chapter 6

On Thursday night, she’d realized that she couldn’t fit in any of the dresses and still even walk comfortably. And she had been eager to get a new larger purse so she could fit more snacks – you know, a real woman’s purse.

At first she’d only been planning on the purse, some new corporate outfits as well—something professional that she could wear without revealing her tattoo…and new outfits for at night when she went to eat, too.

When she’d seen a revealing dress that she loved, she’d reasoned that it could just be for the weekends, that it wasn’t something she’d wear to work…and of course she had to get those matching heels, even if they were a few inches higher than one would typically wear at the office…and if she got those heels, she had to get the dress she’d seen earlier but rejected because she didn’t own the shoes for it…

Molly went home that night with ten new outfits, none of them suitable for work.

Waking up on Friday morning, Molly had looked at her wardrobe and wondered what she had been thinking. On the brink of getting mad at herself, she just closed her eyes and let the rain in—she knew that she could find some way of finding the positive in this situation.

A few minutes later, Molly opened her eyes and picked out the most conservative new dress that she’d bought. Even if her choice had been the most professional dress ever made, her walk would have destroyed the image immediately. Every time she swayed across a room she looked like sex on legs, and she was starting to feel like it as well.

Work was fun that day. It was Janet in accounting’s birthday and the leftover cake was left in the kitchen. Molly took a good 6 pieces back to her cube with a shit eating grin on her face. When she’d seen the reaction Luke had to her new ensemble, she knew she couldn’t wait until work was finished to let him get some release, that would just be cruel.

The two of them had emerged from the restrooms at 9:30am, sweaty and sticky—the room had been slightly too small for their usual titty-fuck, and so Molly had resorted to giving Luke a blow job. Topless, of course—it wasn’t cheating if it was topless, she told herself. Or something like that. The lines were starting to get blurry.

After work, Molly was delighted to discover that Luke was up for a second round. (it was actually his third for the day; he’d used his lunch break to get himself off once more, but he saw no reason to inform Molly of that fact. No need to dissuade her of the idea that it was her role to get him off.)
This time, he spent a few minutes sucking on her nipples, getting her so worked up that for the first time, she played with herself as he slid between her breasts, bringing herself to orgasm at the same time as Luke came on her face.

She insisted on giving him another blow job before they left for the weekend.

Saturday came far too quickly, and she knew she couldn’t cancel on John again. He’d called her three times throughout the week, and she’d given a different excuse each time. It wasn’t fair to him. Besides, it had been two weeks since she’d been fucked, and she knew she couldn’t hold out for another week. If she didn’t make love to John, she’d finally snap, and give herself to Luke, or one of her work colleagues, or one of the men at Krispy Kreme, or a stranger on the subway…

John couldn’t believe his eyes when Molly walked through the door. They’d arranged to meet at his favorite restaurant, the same place that they’d had their first date. He could remember watching her enter, years ago; she’d been dressed casually (slightly underdressed for the setting, if he was being honest) and he remembered seeing her smile for the first time.

It was her smile that he’d fallen in love with; on that night so long ago, his first thought had been that she looked drab and uninteresting—but when she’d smiled, it had changed her whole face. It had made the room light up, and suddenly transformed Molly into one of the most beautiful women he’d seen.
The Molly that walked through the door, however…well, John didn’t honestly know how to react.

She had put on quite a bit of weight for only 2 weeks. It was a bit shocking. She had a clear fupa forming hanging in her skin tight dress. But..but the most startling part was, that dress. She looked like sex on legs. For the second time, she was underdressed, but not because her clothes were too informal—this time, it was purely because of how much flesh she was showing. John couldn’t believe that the same girl who had arrived at their first date in a sweater was wearing a dress that showed more boob than it covered.

And her ass—for Molly and her work colleagues the changes had been gradual. Previously, her work colleagues had never had a reason to pay attention to the size of her assets, and whenever Molly had spent too long staring at herself in the mirror in the last week, she’d quickly become distracted and ended up bringing herself off. As a result, no one had noticed the exact nature of Molly’s changes.

But John was seeing it all at once, showcased by the slinky black dress Molly was wearing.
Her ass had more than doubled in size, practically reaching cartoon proportions. It resembled an over-the-top parody of what a fantasy butt would look like, emphasized even further by the way she walked, sticking out so abruptly below the small of her back that you could have used it to rest your drinks.

John couldn’t stop staring at its perfect pear-shaped form as she walked from the door of the restaurant to the maоtre d’, who pointed her in his direction. She smiled as she saw him, and her attractiveness somehow doubled.

The rest of her may have changed, but Molly’s same captivating smile beamed above her soft developing double chin.

She was wearing a simple black tube-dress, leaving her arms and shoulders completely bare and showing ample cleavage—and as she approached their table, John realized that it wasn’t just her ass that had grown. Her breasts, already large, seemed to have increased in size as well. Or was it because her extended fat gut was boistering them up??

The dress was clearly made for a slightly smaller woman, and Molly’s assets were causing it to practically burst at the seams; her ass had brought the hemline up by at least half a foot, and John couldn’t work out how big her boobs and waist had actually grown, they were so restricted (and yet enhanced) by the tightness of her ensemble.

The black five-inch heels on Molly’s feet lengthened her thick legs, almost forcing you to follow them up with your eyes until you reached her magnificent rear, and John realized that this was the first time he’d ever seen her in heels at all. It all came together so perfectly, creating an image of curviness and womanhood like John had never seen before that he was instantly hard, his mind immediately filled with dirty images of everything he wanted to do to her.

If he’d been capable of taking his eyes off her for a second and looking around the room, he would have seen that she had caused a similar reaction to every other man who had seen her.

By the time she reached the table and sat down, John was speechless. He felt as though his mind had been turned into putty by the voluptuous creature in front of him. He was vaguely aware that she was saying something, but he couldn’t stop staring at her cleavage and remembering that ass—that ass!—of hers.
“Sorry I’m late,” she purred. Even her voice was somehow sexier. “I had to pick something up on the way here.”

John noticed for the first time that Molly was holding a plain paper bag. The rest of her body had blinded him from noticing anything else about her. The restaurant could have caught on fire and he wouldn’t have spotted it.

“That’s okay,” he replied. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up to what she’d been saying, and a few seconds more before he was able to respond.

“Shall we eat?” she asked, her entrancing brown eyes lighting up as it glanced the menu, seemingly unaware that anything was different. And almost before she’d finished the sentence, their waiter was at the table, visibly struggling to stop himself from drooling.

Molly ordered first, John unable to tear his eyes away from her for long enough to look at the menu. He dimly noticed that she was moving her lips as she read. It should have been horrifying, the smart, sassy girl he’d fallen in love with, seemingly struggling with reading basic English, but John couldn’t stop thinking about how good her lips looked, how thick and full they were, how perfectly-constructed they seemed to be for sucking cock…

After Molly ordered enough for 3 people—emphasizing the “cream” in “creamy mushroom sauce”—John hurriedly ordered as well, not even registering what he’d asked for.

John stared, agog, as Molly munched on bread rolls and prattled about the changes she’d made in her life. He tried to listen out for any kind of information that would suggest how she’d changed from dowdy office worker to thick sex bomb in 2 weeks, but nothing jumped out at him, and soon he was forced to ask.

“Molly,” he said, interrupting her story about which donut she liked best, “what on earth happened to you?”

Molly froze, a bread roll halfway to her lips, and John suddenly felt tremendously guilty. She looked like a dog who had been told off for jumping on the table, or a child scolded for grabbing the largest piece of cake.

“What do you mean?” she asked, pouting.
“Just…look at you!”
Molly looked down at herself, and suddenly went bright red.

“Excuse me,” she said, and before John could respond, she quickly left for the bathroom, as every guy rubber-necked as she sashayed across the restaurant.