chapter 4

"It's on!" shouted Diane. "And I'm taking bets." She pulled a tablet and pen out of a drawer. "Here's the deal. Whoever wants to bet, pick your man and put down twenty bucks. When we weigh them on Independence Day, we'll divide up the pot among the winners." With that, people started shouting the name they wanted and Diane was furiously writing down the bets. It took nearly half an hour to get all the bets recorded, and for Diane to add them all up. "It looks pretty close. Christy and Jim," she waved at them, "have 14 people betting on them. Tammy and Paul," she motioned toward them, "have 15 people betting on them. That's a pot of $580 bucks to split among the winners!" The crowd shouted their approval.

Tammy took Paul by the hand and led him to the party buffet. "C'mon, babe. We've got a contest to win." She took a plate and piled it high with rolls, cheeses and pastries. "You sit here," she pointed to a garden bench, "and get started. I'll get you another beer." Paul sat down, she handed him the plate and took off to the ice chest. Paul looked over and saw Christy loading up a plate for Jim. This was really happening. Tammy came back with an IPA and sat next to Paul. He'd been nibbling on the snacks, and Tammy moved close to him, took the plate and handed him the beer. "Here babe, you hold the beer and I'll help you with these goodies." With that, she started feeding him, a lot faster than he'd been eating before. As he swallowed each bite, she popped another one into his mouth. He was washing them down with the heavy beer, and soon the plate was empty. "Way to go, babe!" She patted his belly, which was starting to feel full. We're on the way to winning this!" She jumped up, well, as much as anyone as fat as Tammy could jump, and took the plate back to the buffet. She came back with it fully loaded again, and sat back down. She fed him again, one high fat or high carb treat after another. When he slowed down, she cooed into his ear, "You can do this, sweetie. Eat another one for me. Just a few more and this plate will be clean and you can take a break." After a few minutes he'd finished off the second plate. He was uncomfortably stuffed.

"That's all I can manage, Tammy. I feel like I'm going to burst." Paul looked down and could see that his belly was pushed out with a food baby. Tammy gently rubbed his belly, which actually eased his discomfort.

"Just relax, Paul. Let Tammy make you feel better." She continued to rub and after a while he belched, and not quietly. "There you are, babe. Doesn't that feel better? Now drink your beer, that'll help settle your stomach." She got up and went to the ice chest and brought him another beer. Then she went to the buffet and piled the plate with desserts. Slices of chocolate cream pie, cheese cake, and a couple of different kinds of fruit pies.

"Tammy I don't think I can eat anymore. I'm really full." Tammy smiled at him, and rubbed his belly again. Her hand moved slowly lower so that she wasn't rubbing his belly any more, she was massaging his crotch. Since all he had on was his swimsuit, there wasn't much fabric between her hand and his cock. The other fortunate thing about the swimsuit was that it had plenty of give so it wasn't pushing on his bloated belly.

"Just a few little desserts, babe. And when we get home, I'm going to give you a blow job that you'll never forget." With that, she got up and straddled him. If they hadn't been in public, Paul would have taken her right there. As it was, he was pinned on the bench with Tammy perched facing him. Since she was wearing a bikini, that meant that her bare soft belly was pushed against his, and those enormous boobs were in his face. At that moment Paul forgot how full he was. He was vaguely aware that people were looking their way, enjoying the show that Tammy was putting on. She had the plate resting on those magnificent boobs, and fed him each dessert, bite by bite. "See sweetheart," she whispered, "you've got room after all. Just a few more bites to go." Somehow he finished all the rich heavy desserts. He was now totally stuffed and couldn't move. "Need to rest, Paul? Or are you ready to go home and get that blow job?"

"Just give me a minute," He moaned, "and I'll be ready." Tammy got up as he drank the last of his beer. She helped him get up, slowly and carefully. He was unsteady on his feet, drunk and stuffed. She took him by the hand and led him out, waving at Diane and Mark as they left. Paul thought that she also winked at them as they went by. She got him to the car and opened the passenger side for him. "I'll drive, sweetie. You just relax." She drove them to her apartment, and they took the elevator up. It was only on the third floor which Paul would have normally walked. But not in his present condition.

Tammy led Paul to her bedroom and sat him on the edge of her bed. He was still stuffed to the gills. Tammy popped her bikini top off, letting her melons hang free. Paul found himself hypnotized as they swung back and forth with her every movement. Tammy pushed him onto his back. His swimsuit was held in place by a Velcro strip, which Tammy deftly opened. She pulled his suit off him, struggling a little over his erection. Once he was naked, she got on her knees in front of him and went to work. Her mouth was around his cock, and she reached her hands up to play with his nipples. She licked him until he was on the edge of orgasm, then held him there until he thought he would go crazy. She brought him to the edge again, and then with a quick move of her tongue made him come. And come. He exploded in her mouth, and she swallowed it all.

"There you go. Didn't I tell you that you'd get the best blow job ever?" Paul could only murmur his agreement. He was drunk, he was stuffed and he had just come, which all combined left him in a stupor. Tammy helped him up and put him in the bed, but sitting up against the headboard. "You need a little something to settle your stomach. I've got just the thing for you." She went to the kitchen. Paul heard glasses and the refrigerator open and close and the sound of ice and pouring. She came back with a lowball glass that had a layer of dark over a thick layer of white. "It's a Kahlua and cream, sweetie. Just what you need." In the back of Paul's mind, he thought that this was probably the highest calorie and fat drink there was, but it tasted sweet and creamy. Paul finished it in a few gulps. And it finished him. Paul fell into a deep, deep sleep.