Wanna Make Plump in the Club

Chapter 1

“I don’t get it!” I scream, banging my hands against my steering wheel. “This was supposed to be the one!” I throw my phone and grip the leather-like material tightly in my hands and press my forehead against the wheel, holding back tears. This was the 4th job interview this week that I’ve received a rejection email from. I don’t know what’s wrong with me or what I’m doing wrong, but I need to do something for income soon.

I let out a few more sobs, wipe my eyes, take a relaxing breath, and start to drive home to my little studio apartment I share with my boyfriend, Mike. Mike has been super supportive since I lost my job 2 months ago and I’ve been on a desperate hunt for income. He’s picked up a few extra hours to make ends meet. We've canceled our streaming services and gym memberships. I’ve been picking up donation food boxes to help offset grocery bills. I even started couponing somewhat for toiletries. The wait list for government assistance is long and although we’ve been able to make it work, I don’t plan on continuing to try living this way. I’ve held off from applying but things are getting too tight.

We haven't been eating out often, but I can't help but to stress eat and sometimes we’re both so tired we get the cheapest fast food around. I've already gained almost 10lbs since being unemployed and I can't afford to gain anymore, let alone buy new clothes that go along with that change. I'm already a little on the thicker end. I stop at McDonald's on the way home and use some coupons to get 2 Big Mac meals. I park in my assigned apartment parking spot and bring the food inside. I don't care about anything right now, so I plop on the couch and aggressively devour my meal. My pants are tight over my full stomach. I lean back and struggle to undo the stained button. My distended belly juts forward and pushes the zipper slightly down. I unzip the rest of the way, pull my shirt up under my boobs, and attempt to rub some relief. My belly is firm and aching with gurgles digesting the surplus of food. I eat a now cold apple pie and lay on my back, continuing to rub my dome of disappointment.

The door opens and Mike walks in, stopped in his tracks, staring at me. “I'm guessing today didn't go well, babe?”

“Nooo. I got another rejection email. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I'm so frustrated and upset, Mike. Can you come rub my belly; I ate too much.”

Mike put his computer bag down, sat down beside where I lay on the couch, and began rubbing. It felt so good and provided some relief in the form of a few burps. Mike kissed my belly and then my cheek. He gently brushes my red hair behind my ear lovingly and stares into my brown eyes. “You'll find something, Rae. We'll be alright.” Mike made love to me right there on the couch.

Over the next 2 weeks, my interview clothes became noticeably tighter and more uncomfortable. I found myself often wanting McDonald's when out, which I allowed myself as long as I had a coupon.

I finally got a job as a waitress at a gentleman's club, which I didn't think I was going to get considering my recent weight gain honestly. I shop for a decent dress at a thrift store until I can afford more work clothes. I notice the smalls are definitely too fitted so I buy the medium with the intent of this being temporary. Mike and I celebrated, a little too much, and I went to bed full of pasta and Mike's seed like I've grown used to. Food and sex. Every night.