Chapter 1

“Ooh look, fried dough!” Kelly exclaimed.

 

Any worries that I would have to coerce her into stuffing her face were completely unfounded.  She was like a little kid at the fair, enjoying the sights, sounds, and especially all the tastes.  We had only been there about two hours, but so far she had put away a humongous breakfast burrito, a corndog, taffy, kettle corn, pulled pork, and an ice cream sandwich. 

 

She was wearing a pair of shorts (turning slightly pink as she confessed that there was some elastic in the waistband) and a nice blue top.  She blushed again as I told her how that blouse made her eyes look nice.  Since her blouse just came down to her waistband, I was hoping I might get a glimpse of that glorious belly as it grew throughout the course of the day.

 

“Alright, let’s get some fried dough,” I chuckled.

 

I handed over $7 as Kelly chose to also get the apple topping.  We strolled along as she happily munched away, flecks of pastry sprinkling her prodigious chest.  After she finished it off I got her a soft drink to quench her thirst.

 

“That was *brrrp*…….good,” Kelly finished weakly, her face turning pink again. 

 

“Ready for more?” I asked.

 

“Woof, think I better take a break,” she admitted, pressing one hand against a rounder middle.

 

“Quitting already?”

 

“Let’s got over there for a moment,” Kelly gestured toward an empty stand.

 

We walked over there, and after looking around quickly she turned toward the stand and fiddled with something by her waist. 

 

“Ok, let’s go,” she said after turning around.

 

I looked pointedly at her swollen midsection.  “Loosening that belt already?”

 

“Just needed some room,” Kelly defended herself.

 

“Ah, so you’re ready for more, huh?”

“Bring it on!”

 

I took her at her word, buying her pizza, a pretzel, an ice cream cone, fudge, three homemade doughnuts, and a gyro.  After the ice cream, Kelly visited the ladies’ room and after she came out I saw that she only had two notches left on her belt.  By the end of the gyro she was visibly struggling, walking slowly and breathing heavily.  A thin strip of tanned flesh was visible as her shirt was starting to ride up her bloated tummy.

 

“What do you want next?” I asked her with malicious glee.

 

“Oooh, *gggrrrppp* I gotta sit down,” she groaned.

 

We found a vacant bench and she gratefully collapsed onto her generous rear.  She leaned back, moaning softly as she gently rubbed her stomach.  A good two or three inches of deliciously plumpened flesh now peeked out, resting atop her snug belt.

 

I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You look like you’ve reached your fill, my little piggy.  You’re too stuffed to waddle around anymore, aren’t you?  I bet you wish you could take off your belt and undo your shorts, but people would talk, wouldn’t they?  They’d point and laugh at the little fatty who ate so much she had to unbutton her pants and let her fat gut just hang out for everyone to see.”

 

I gently poked the bare flesh, marveling at its silky smoothness.

 

“I feel like I’m gonna pop,” she moaned.  “I’m turning into such a fatty.”

 

“My little fatty,” I chuckled, my index finger moving underneath her paunch, stopping just north of her belt buckle. 

 

I twitched my finger, but her gut was packed so tight it didn’t even jiggle a little.  Then I rested my entire hand on her belly, sliding it beneath her shirt.  I started to gently rub the taut surface, starting in little circles around her navel and moving out.  She moaned again softly, but the timbre indicated pleasure instead of discomfort.  I found myself becoming quite aroused as my hand explored her distended abdomen, relishing in the scintillating feeling of soft flesh so tight and firm from being overfed.