Shelter With Mommy?!

Chapter 1 - The Muffin Haven

The devastating storm from the night before clung to my thoughts, even though the sky outside Belle’s window had finally cleared. The tornado’s path had knocked out the power, leaving me without light or heat, and when Belle offered me shelter in her apartment, I didn’t hesitate. I’d known her for years, my old friend, always quick to laugh and fill every room with her vibrant energy. But that morning, as I woke up in her warm, cozy bed, I was greeted by an unexpected sound: a mix of chewing and the clatter of baking trays banging in the kitchen.

Rubbing my eyes, I got up and followed the noise. The bedroom door opened to a sight that stopped me dead in my tracks. There was Belle, standing at the kitchen counter, a tray of steaming muffins in her hands. A half-eaten muffin was clutched between her fingers, crumbs scattered across her shirt like stars in a night sky. Her apron, stretched to its limits, looked ready to give up the fight to contain her massive backside, held together by a makeshift network of elastic bands struggling to encircle her imposing figure. New bands had been clumsily knotted onto the old ones, a desperate attempt to support the original ties that could no longer handle her… enormous rear, that gigantic booty that had shocked me when she welcomed me into her home yesterday, having not seen her in ages.

“Uh… want a muffin?” she said, a nervous smile twitching at her lips. Her voice carried a mix of embarrassment and warmth, like she’d been caught in a private moment with her lover, the muffin.

I couldn’t help but really look at her, for the first time in a long while. Belle wasn’t the girl I remembered, the one who, five years ago, hovered around 180 or 200 pounds, always soft, but never this… thick. Now, she was a presence that commanded the space around her. Her belly, round and heavy, jutted out beneath the apron like a bear’s gut. Her hips, wide and swaying, seemed to move with a life of their own, each step a small earthquake that sent ripples through the floor and her jiggling flesh. I couldn’t spot her waistline from any angle, it was as if her body had decided to expand beyond all boundaries, burying her old silhouette under thick layers of fat. And that ass… God, it was impossible to ignore. Huge, round, it defied gravity, straining against the fabric of the leggings she wore, which looked ready to rip with every move. I figured she probably couldn’t wear much else given her size, but seeing her in those leggings was almost like seeing her naked, they hugged her curves so tightly, outlining every inch of what she was packing underneath.

“I made blueberry-banana muffins,” she said, setting the tray down. As she placed it on the kitchen island, she didn’t seem to notice that she was serving up herself too, her wide, fat hips brushed and pressed against the surface, oblivious to her curves blocking her view, but crystal clear to my eyes. She was the muffin on display…

“You know I love cooking, especially for you.” Her voice had a maternal sweetness, but there was something more, an intensity that nearly made me blush. She turned to the counter, grabbing a plate piled high with freshly baked muffins. Her hands, big and soft, made the plate look comically small, like a toy dwarfed by her presence. She handed it to me, snagging a muffin for herself. “Try one, hon. I wanna hear what you think.”

I took a muffin, still warm, and bit into it. It was like a wave of flavor crashing over me: the dough melted in my mouth, the blueberries burst with juicy sweetness, and the banana added a creamy note that tied it all together. It was perfect, so perfect that, for a moment, I forgot everything else: the storm, the blackout, even the fact that it was made by a woman tipping the scales at over 300 pounds, who seemed to grow bigger every time I looked at her.

“Wow,” I managed, mouth still full. “This is… incredible.”

Belle beamed, a wide, satisfied smile spreading across her face before she took a bite of her own muffin. “Thanks, hon,” she said, licking a bit of blueberry juice from her lips with a slow, almost sensual motion. “I knew you’d love ‘em.”

I watched her eat, the way her body seemed to revel in every bite, it was downright seductive. Then, without thinking too hard, I asked, “Belle… how many of these have you already had?”

She froze, the muffin halfway to her mouth. A small gulp echoed in the room as she swallowed, her face flushing bright red. She avoided my eyes, twirling a strand of hair nervously. “Um… like… eight or nine?” she mumbled, her voice shaky but laced with a hint of defiance, like she was confessing to a delicious sin and waiting for my verdict.

“Eight or nine?” I echoed, stunned. “These are hefty, I’m stuffed after just one!”

She nodded, swallowing again, and rested a hand on the curve of her belly. Her fingers moved slowly, gently, caressing the taut surface like she was exploring a prized treasure she didn’t want to disturb. “Yeah, well… they’re kinda heavy,” she admitted with a shy smile. “But they’re so good, right? I can’t help myself when I make ‘em.” She took another bite, and the way she closed her eyes, savoring every second, nearly stole my breath. It felt like she was holding back a moan, and damn, it was turning me on.

I sat at the table, still holding my muffin, and watched her. Every move she made felt amplified: the way she leaned against the counter, making her hips sway; the way her apron strained with every breath; the way her ass, so vast and inviting, seemed to claim all the space behind her. I couldn’t stop wondering how she’d gotten here, how the Belle I knew had transformed into this version of herself, so massive, so fat… this irresistible mountain of curves.

“Want another?” she asked, nudging the plate toward me. Her eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a conspiratorial edge to her voice, like she was letting me in on the secret of the indulgence that had plumped her up to these proportions. “C’mon, don’t be shy. I know you’ve got room for a little more sweetness.”

I looked at the plate, then back at her. And in that moment, I knew this week in her apartment was going to be anything but ordinary. This new Belle? I wanted her bad.