Chapter 7 - 7 - outgrown

I wake to the warm glow of afternoon light. I can feel the softness of my bed beneath me and the coolness of the air on my bare legs, but it takes me a moment to gain my bearings. I slowly open my eyes, surprised by the brightness of the bedroom. As my vision starts to clear through my squinting eyes, I roll over to to look at the clock.

"It's almost 5 o'clock baby," he says from the bathroom. "You still want to go to that formal tonight? We don't have to stay long."

I pull myself up and rub the sleep from my eyes. Here I am, still wearing the baggy tee and boyshorts I slept in, and he was in the bathroom shaving, already halfway prepared to leave. I plant my feet on the floor and stretch mightily, pulling my arms high above my head. I can't help but notice the hem of my shirt rise up above the curve of my middle, reminding me of my recent indulgences.

"No, I still want to go," I say, finally standing. "I just need to pull myself out of this food coma, that's all. What do you think I should wear?"

"I don't know, whatever you feel best in," he responds, washing the last of the shaving cream from his face and heading into the bedroom.

"I think I know just the thing," I reply. I remembered I had worn an outfit a few months ago that I really liked; a high-waisted black pencil skirt with a low-cut white crop top. It was just formal enough, while still allowing me to stand out from all the cocktail dresses. Plus, I imagined the skirt would be slimming, which would help conceal my recent burgeoning midsection. I dig through my closet until I find the outfit, tucked away in months worth of untouched clothes, and pull it free of the entanglement along with some appropriate underwear.

"What do you think, leave in 15 minutes or so?" he asks, ironing one of his shirts.

"Uh, okay, I'll be ready by then." I scramble to the bedroom, hurriedly readying myself. I pull down my boyshorts to replace them with a lace black thong as I search my dresser for some matching jewelry. In the meantime, I toss off my tee and put on my bra, satisfied by the ample cleavage it highlighted. I pull the shirt over my head and down my torso, adjusting my neckline and bra appropriately, and then hurriedly step into my skirt as I hop over to the mirror on the back of the door. As I tug the skirt up past my hips and haul the zipper up, I feel it stiffen, slow, then catch. I look down at the skirt, and then back up at the mirror.

My skirt is a solid three inches too small for my plump belly. The zipper down the center catches just below my navel, leaving a wide V of exposed doughy flesh of my protruding tummy. My rounded stomach bulges out precariously from the tight fabric, proudly forming a soft curvy hill between the partition of fabric on either side. New layers of fat are squeezed tight around my hips, leaving me with a prominent muffin top at the waistband of the tight skirt. I could now see my crop top was riding up the curve of my abdomen beneath it, leaving a band of pale plump skin visible below my bust and above my waist.

My face flushes, and I hurriedly try to pull the zipper up. The pressure of my stuffed belly fights against the tight fabric, separating the two halves of the zipper from one another with my fattened tummy in the middle. I try my best to suck it in, allowing the zipper to rise inch by inch as I pull it with full force, slowly above my navel near its peak. With all my strength I manage to clasp the button firmly in place and sigh in relief. The pressure of the constricting fabric on my full stomach is exceedingly uncomfortable, but I am spared the embarrassment of not being able to put the skirt on at all.

As I adjust myself in the mirror, still sucking my belly in, it becomes abundantly clear that I have outgrown the outfit. The waist is cinched tight around my middle, with my stomach bulging out on all sides below it. A muffin top encircles the skirt above it, my soft flesh struggling mightily to escape its confines. Nearly two inches of my abdomen are exposed between the skirt and top that had not been visible the last time I'd worn it. I struggle with whether or not I can truly wear this outfit in public, turning every which way in the mirror to try and find a flattering angle. My muscles begin to ache from the exertion of keeping my full tummy reigned in, and I yearn to exhale and release it's full strain on my waistband.

"Um, baby?" I stutter, looking at him sheepishly. "There might be a small problem with my outfit..."

"Well, it can't be-" he pauses as he gazes up at me from the ironing board. I look down at my bulbous gut, and back up at him worriedly. His eyes grow wide as his mouth hangs open, lost for words. He looks me up and down for a few seconds, his trance broken as the iron begins to hiss in his hand.

"That is hands down the hottest thing I've ever seen."

My heart flutters, and I feel my embarrassment turn to excitement. Suddenly I feel nothing but confident and sexy in my outfit, revelling in how well it highlights my recent growth.

"Oh yeah? You think so?"

I slowly exhale, relaxing my tummy and letting it expand against the tight fabric of my skirt. The fabric creaks and stretches as my belly pushes firmly against it, the lone button struggling to contain my girth. We stare in silence for a moment before the waistband gives one final moan, and suddenly the button pops off with a sharp snap as my stomach bursts free, jiggling as it springs forward. It spills through the gap in my skirt and pushes the zipper open as the weight of my abdomen forces the two sides apart. I sigh in relief as the pressure is released, and I cradle my pudgy gut as the button bounces momentarily on the bathroom floor before finally coming to rest.

"I lied, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah, you like how big I've grown, don't you?" I'm suddenly teeming with sexual energy, as if squeezing myself into that tight skirt aroused a deep dark desire inside me. I walk up to him seductively, my tummy jiggling with each step. I grab a hold of his hardened cock under the fabric of his underwear and stroke it gently, placing his other hand on the crest of my belly.

"I've gotten so fat, I can't believe how much I've let myself go," I whisper as I simultaneously move his hand over my protruding belly and rub his throbbing manhood. My thumb playfully circles its head, emerging just above his waistband. A trickle of his cum wets my fingertip, as his other hands softly grabs a handful of my new pudge. His breath catches as I kiss him gently, biting his lower lip greedily. "Just look how big you've made me..."

I lead him to the bed and push him on his back, pulling his boxers off in the process. With great effort, I manage to free myself of my overfilled skirt and thong. I crawl up beside him on the bed and kiss him passionately, feeling my stomach hang low under the gravity's pull. We kiss for a few moments before I pull away to move my body over his, straddling his waist. I move my torso erect as I put my hair in a ponytail, feeling my stomach bulge out in a round arc below me. His hands are drawn to the bare skin of my round belly below my crop top, where he rubs my smooth soft skin.

"I can't believe how sexy you are," he sighs as he cradles my gut.

"You like how big my belly has gotten?" I say, holding either side of my round abdomen. I trace my hands up the soft flesh of my hips, grabbing a hold of my top and pulling it over my head. I unclasp my bra and let it fall free, revealing my full heavy breasts. "I let my big fat belly get so round. Just look how much you've fattened me up."

As his hands explore my stomach, I lift up my hips and slowly lower myself down onto his rock-hard cock, feeling it easily slide inside me between my dripping wet lips. He groans and his eyes roll back as I lower myself all the way to his torso. Then, I slowly start gyrating, bringing his shaft in and out in small gentle motions, his hands gripping the soft flesh on my hips.

I place my hands on his chest and lean forward, working my hips in waves, feeling the length of his cock move in and out of me. I can feel my belly hang and press against his body, its new size pulled low under gravity. He cups my heavy breasts, squeezing their ample size and teasing my hardened nipples. His hands are all over me; holding my wide hips, pulling tight against my back, grabbing handfuls of my butt as he pulls himself deep into me. I was in ecstasy.

"Oh god baby, I don't know how much more I can take," he exhales. "You're just too damn sexy..."

In a fiery passion I push myself up and lean back, resting my arms on his legs for support. I feel my tummy push out in full glory, a doughy round ball bulging out before me. I lift my hips up and down on him, my ass slapping against his body as I ride his cock. My belly and breasts bounce in unison as our bodies come together. He grabs a hold of my stomach, his hands sinking into the supple flesh as I rock up and down, pushing him towards climax. I can feel his hands cradle my bouncing gut, fruitlessly trying to hold its new mass steady under the weight of my fattened stomach. Occasionally his hands wander to my chest, squeezing my breasts, only to return to the curve of my midsection a moment later. In the final throes, he grabs my hips and groans. I bring him deep into me, feeling his cock throb and burst inside me, filling me with his hot seed. I slowly gyrate my hips, feeling the pulse of his shaft slow inside me. I lift myself off and curl up next to him, kissing him on the cheek as I run my hands along his chest.

"You really are sexier than ever," he sighs in the afterglow. "I'm sorry about your skirt though..."

"That's okay." I kiss him on the cheek and give him a devious smile. "I think I have a cocktail dress that has just enough room to let me stuff my belly full tonight. What do you think, want to tear it off me afterwards?"