Chapter 7 - dinner date (part 2)

Charlie paid and, with the help of the jocular restaurant owner, supported Melissa as she tottered unsteadily to the door. His arm around her tubby waist, he could feel how the thick rolls of fat beneath her dress juddered with every step. He was beginning to get physically aroused, and quickly hailed a cab.

The taxi driver, a grizzled-looking older man with a strong local accent, looked at her quizzically through his window. "Your girlfriend looks a bit wobbly on her feet", he said to Charlie. "She's not going to feel green in my cab, is she? How much has she had to drink?"

"Not to worry," Charlie replied. "She's only had a couple of glasses of wine - she's just eaten herself into a stupor." He gave her swollen stomach a wobble. "I'd be more concerned she's going to break your suspension!"

The cabbie chuckled, unfazed. "Aye, she certainly is a fat lass, in't she!"

Charlie opened the door and manhandled Melissa's heavy bulk onto the back seat, smiling at her "Come on, fat lass." He joined her and the cab pulled away in the direction of his hotel. As they drove through the city, Charlie rubbed Melissa's gorged belly through the velvety fabric of her dress, surprised at how soft she still felt, despite the way she'd stuffed herself. He dug his fingers into her yielding stomach, grasping a big handful of flesh, and she moaned gently then whispered in his ear: "Play with my fat... I'm so turned on..."

Charlie almost staggered under Melissa's weight as they walked into the hotel, and he saw that the usual check-in attendant was behind the desk - the same one that had been checking him in as a single guy for the past four weeks. Seeing Charlie supporting the glamorously made-up, heavily overweight girl, the attendant attempted a look of supercilious discretion, which manifested itself as more of a smirk. Charlie couldn't have cared less.

After negotiating the lift (with a few choice comments about its maximum occupancy weight for the benefit of the other guests), Charlie finally got Melissa into his room and let her fall onto the king-size bed. She lay there panting, eyes half-closed, one hand gently fondling a roll of fat at her side. The great curve of her stomach rose above her, looking like it was about to burst out of the red dress.

"My God, just look at the size of you," said Charlie. "I think you've passed the point of no return, fat girl." He patted her huge belly. "You've still got room for something else though, haven't you?"

She acquiesced weakly, and he picked up the phone and pressed a key. "Yes, room service please.... I'd like a serving of profiteroles, please. Actually - better make that a double helping. Yes, all on one plate, that's fine.... How many spoons? None. Great, thank you."

He wasn't sure if Melissa had even heard him order; she seemed to be an in almost trance-like state, her hands running over the soft curves and bulges of her gorged body. He bent down and kissed her, and she kissed him back hard - hungrily. He let his hands join hers in caressing the plumpness of her breasts and stomach and thighs, squeezing, kneading, enjoying her.

There came a knock at the door; it had seemed like thirty seconds, but perhaps ten minutes had passed while they both lovingly fondled her fatness. Charlie opened up and let in the room-service boy, who whisked the cover of a huge mound of profiteroles before stopping, eyes widening, as he noticed Melissa sprawled on the bed.

"Just bring them over to my companion there, please, while I sign," said Charlie. "You can just rest the plate right on her stomach - that way she can get at them easily."

The poor youth looked nonplussed, but approached the half-comatose fat girl. She didn't even seem aware of his presence until he placed the plate carefully on her bloated gut, where it undulated for a moment before coming to rest. She suddenly noticed its weight and her eyes opened in bleary surprise, before widening at the sight of the mountain of pastry, cream and chocolate.

The room-service waiter backed nervously away and disappeared as quickly as he could, and Charlie climbed up on the bed to kneel between Melissa's thick thighs.

"Now I'm going to finish feeding you up like the fattening-pig you are."

She began to protest: "I really don't think I can eat any moffggh," and he crammed a profiterole whole into her mouth.

"Less talking, piggy girl, and more eating. A true glutton like you always has room for more."

Charlie fed her more and more, scooping the rich choux pastries off the plate and pushing them into her open mouth, watching the gooey chocolate sauce drip down her chin. Her cheeks were flushed with pleasure, her rounded body heaving; her eyes were half-closed, but through her heavy lids Charlie could see that same look of utter, uncontrolled animal lust as he stuffed her fuller and fuller. Still kneeling, he wriggled out of his trousers and moved the plate to rest on the bed, then lifted her head by the blonde hair and rammed another profiterole between her lips. "That's it, you greedy fat pig. Gulp it all down."

As he fed the panting girl, Charlie felt her feet on his buttocks, pulling him further up between her thighs. The movement made her dress ride up to her hips, confirming that she was wearing nothing underneath. She chewed and swallowed down another pastry, moaning with pleasure; suddenly Charlie could wait and tease her no longer, and he thrust himself inside her wet pink pussy. As he did, her huge stomach bulged out convulsively and there was a loud tearing noise from the red dress. It had ripped almost all the way down one side seam, revealing the pale flesh of her hip and her fat-softened waistline. Charlie gave another great thrust into her plumpness, and watched how her big breasts and stomach, no longer tightly constrained, bounced beneath the red fabric. Then he tore the dress all the way open, as if ripping the hull from a ripe fruit to expose the soft, sweet flesh beneath. He looked down at her quivering body, drinking in its naked, voluptuous over-abundance, then heaved her onto her side so that one leg was over his shoulder and the remaining profiteroles were right in front of her pretty face. He grabbed a big handful of soft gut-fat and squeezed. "Did someone tell you to stop eating, you overfed porker? Gorge yourself while you take your fucking, like the pig-slut you are."

Obediently, Melissa reached out and began to eat the rich creamy pastries, moaning with pleasure as Charlie made her wobble. He played with her body while he pumped her, making the most of his first time with a fat girl. His hands explored and jiggled and spanked and squeezed every inch, every bulge, every roll. Before long her groans turned to high-pitched whimpers, and Charlie knew she was about to climax.

"Oh no you don't, piggy girl," he laughed, slowing his pace. "You don't get to come until you've eaten up all your food like a good little porker."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, so desperate to orgasm, but he just gave her fat stomach a spank and, holding her by the hair, pushed her head towards the plate. She didn't reach out her hand again, but instead let him force her face right into the remaining pile of profiteroles, opening her mouth wide and gorging as he began to f*** her harder again.

"Someone likes being treated like a fattening-pig, huh? That's right, eat it all up, you filthy little pig-whore!" and he pushed her face into the chocolatey mess that was left on the plate, making her eat every scrap of choux pastry and lick up the cream and sauce, while he grabbed and squeezed her big round belly. "OK, porky, I think we've finally filled up that massive gut of yours. Now you can come for me, piggy girl."

He grasped her stomach-fat harder and started to rub her clit with his thumb as he plunged into her plump pussy. Within seconds she was writhing and squealing, her cheek rubbing back and forth on the chocolate-smeared dessert plate and her fat pink body jiggling wildly. As she wobbled and bucked, Charlie pulled out and sprayed his load over her huge heaving stomach.

"Now you've finished your dinner, fat girl."