________________________________________
The rest of your week goes much the same as your Tuesday. You catch quick bites with Rya during your lunch breaks, each day a new restaurant. Rya backs down a little on payment, dropping down to "just" going Dutch. Though she's just as pleasant as always, she doesn't seem to really be opening up any more. She still offers sweet, brief makeouts that leave you desperate for more, but you're letting her set the pace. Something tells you she's worth being patient for.
You also make a point of ordering more food than her everywhere you go. Though thankfully you never picked up any more active disdain from restaurant staff or other patrons, you're dead-set on making sure Rya feels comfortable in her own skin. She certainly doesn't seem to spare a second thought for your appetite at least.
The only time Rya seems even the least bit frustrated is when you log into the evening gaming sessions late, and even then she takes it in stride. You wish you could fully mollify whatever doubts she has about your motivations, but somehow you know they'll naturally disperse over time.
A little closer to home, your evenings immediately after work are a wonderland of supersized erotic videos. You're eagerly exploring all manner of videos featuring enormous BBW models, and having some of the best masturbation sessions of your life. Some memorable videos include: a blubbery dark-skinned MILF being fed and pleasured by smaller women, a surreal hypnosis video featuring a tall BBW eating a huge quantity of food and brainwashing the viewer to gorge with her, and a POV video where camera tricks and multiple actresses create the illusion that the actress grows fatter while fucking the viewer. You even find a trashy-yet-fun mobile game featuring cute anime characters ranging in size from chubby to huge. It makes you wonder why you didn't start indulging in such content years ago.
Oh right, your job – you begin to see the appeal of the promotion you uprooted yourself for. It pays more, and gives you more responsibility, yet you don't find it especially more challenging than what you did before. Additionally, although it's not like any of your colleagues back in Old Ridge were bothered much by your transformation, most of them were decidedly on the smaller side. The Novaville contingent actually trends towards heftier folks, and you actually feel kind of at home amongst them. One of the smartest designers you work with is an absolute mountain of a man, and despite the ready availability of heavyweight office equipment, he (logically) constantly agitates for a remote-work dispensation. It's almost become a running joke how he keeps getting turned down by a particularly traditional higher manager, who themselves could be charitably described as "quite heavy". Then again, the vibes at the office are fantastic - the team welcomed you with open arms, and everybody seems to be on the same wavelength, genuinely setting aside ego for the good of the company. The vibes are so great you have zero qualms about chipping into the shared delivery/snack slush fund... and drawing from it regularly. You also can't help but wonder about a clique of skinny and suspiciously attentive office assistants. You've heard rumors about some size-differential office hookups involving them, but so long as they keep your snacks stocked and don't try to get between you and Rya, you're perfectly fine with a little extra attention.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In any case, Saturday morning finds you and Rya tearing it up on Disk multiplayer. During a particularly slow lobby load, you propose setting up a proper first date to Rya.
"Yeah, I'd like to do that," she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice.
You decide to meet up and catch a showing of a popular new whodunit, then pick a place for dinner afterwards. The two of you wind up rendezvousing at the theater after a late lunch; the mutual excitement was palpable. Though Rya's sundress outfit was cute, her adorable twin-tail hairdo and a masterful subtle makeup job actually managed to drag your gaze up from her bountiful cleavage. The movie was fun, though it took an awkward few moments to find an extra seat to accommodate Rya's oversized booty. She seemed to enjoy the film, too, and the two of you had a nice time. Afterwards, Rya surprises you by offering to pick up some takeout and eat at her place. "We've eaten at restaurants enough for now, let's change it up a bit," she suggests.
"Sure, we can go with whatever you want. I'd love to eat at your place."
You drop off your car at your condo, and Rya follows. You then hop into her SUV and she drives to a Thai place she'd been raving about for a while. It's not particularly fancy, a touch scuzzy actually, but Rya insists the food is good. She gives you a knowing wink as she orders a family-sized combo of pad Thai for herself. The lanky Asian lady taking the order behind the counter doesn't bat an eyelash, and actually seems to have a bit of fun with recording the substantial list that Rya racks up. You follow her lead and order a big portion of chicken in green curry, plus couple of extra side dishes, just to be safe. You feel a faint flicker of panic as you realize she's signposting that tonight will be a pretty major binge, but you push down the feeling. You can do this. She's not your crazy ex, and you're finally getting to hang out with this adorable huge girl at her own place. Just the two of you. Plus a mountain of food. It should be a blast.
You slightly regret offering to carry all the food in from the car, it's heavier than it looks and a little awkward to boot. You should have picked up on Rya's knowing smirk. Thankfully, it's a short walk to her apartment from her parking space, and she handles the door for you.
"Come on in!" she says. "I've got plenty of room!"
You enter her apartment and the door clicks shut. "Wow, this is pretty nice," you say, taking a moment to survey the cozy main area. First thing, your nose is greeted with the inoffensively pleasant smell of clean indoor air mixed with wood and upholstery, plus a hint of that vaguely stony and slightly-chemical "newer building" aroma.
The living room is unsurprisingly centered on a high-end TV, with a sturdy-looking yet plush couch positioned for comfy viewing. You quickly pick out the distinctive frame of a Z-Slab console in a nook under the TV, along with gaming accessories for the current and prior generations. The TV itself is framed by a pair of floor-to-ceiling shelves, mainly loaded with a variety of books, a couple blocks of manga, two shelves of DVDs, and an oddly lonely plastic model of an aggressive-looking mecha. Strings of small, colorful LEDs throw gentle light over the whole room, but not enough for you to make out any titles on the shelved media.
"Thanks. I spend a lot on my apartment, I guess I just like to surround myself with nice things. I know it's a little excessive, but hey, I can afford it," Rya explains breezily.
Another sweeping look around reveals a spacious kitchen area plus a dining table off to your left, along with a closed door. A guest room or office maybe? And to your right you spy an open door leading to Rya's bedroom, along with another door that could only lead to a bathroom. You move to set down the bags of takeout at the dining table, but Rya shakes her head with a grin and points towards the couch.
"We're going fatty-style tonight, Anon, and that means eating our huge meal in front of the TV," Rya explains with a giggle. "Sit down and get comfortable, it's going to be a long night." She then waddles into the bedroom and out of sight, presumably to change into more comfy clothes.
You move into the living room proper and untidily set the bounty of takeout onto the coffee table. You take a moment to flex your hands and fingers, then have a quick think about how to unpack and organize your dinners. As you arrange the takeout containers, you feel a mix of emotions as you realize you know exactly what Rya meant by "fatty-style". You feel excited, a bit apprehensive, and at least a little shame to be honest. But you also know that once you've eaten all this food, you won't care about any of that. You're pondering whether or not if you should finally drop your self-image of a "temporarily overweight athlete" when you hear Rya re-enter the room.
"Alright, Anon, I hope you're hungry, because I am starving."
You turn and behold Rya waddling towards the couch, wearing a tight black tank top and a battered pair of elastic shorts. The classy sundress she was just wearing wasn't prudish by any stretch, but now she's showing more of her soft skin than you've seen before by a long shot. It's actually quite alluring, the way she wobbles and quivers with every movement. You can't help but stare.
"I'm more than hungry," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.
She deliberately lowers her bulk onto the couch with a long exhale. Her hips easily spread to take up even more of the couch's space once they settle. Once settled, she chuckles, the sound resonating sensually in the back of your head. "I already know you're a big eater. But tonight, you're going to see what I can do when I'm comfortable and nobody's judging me," Rya says, slowly squeezing her belly and fondling the soft expanse.
It's truly surprising to see Rya openly acknowledging her fatness in such an intentionally teasing way. Sure, you figured she privately indulged a big appetite, but from her public behavior you actually suspected that she disliked her size.
You must have been staring for a long moment, because Rya starts giggling. "You must really be starving, if you're having a brain fart like that," she says.
"I uh, I just think you're really pretty. Sorry, it's uh, distracting," you stammer as your cheeks grow warm.
"Oh?" Rya asks, biting her lip. "Well if you just want to stand there and stare, be my guest, but I am going to start feeding my pretty little face."
With that, she leans forward, retrieves her box of pad Thai, then starts settling in with the box resting comfortably on her creamy thigh. And now your brain seems to snap back into function. You grab your own portion of green curry and turn back to the couch. Rya noisily slurps down a heavy mouthful of noodles, then looks up at you with a beaming smile. She then pats a spot on the couch next to her. "C'mon, I won't bite! At least as long as you don't get between me and my food! Besides, there's nothing like a full belly to set your mind at ease."
You sit down next to Rya and take a deep breath. Even over the heavy spicy aromas of the food, you catch a whiff of her – peachy shampoo or body wash, plus a tinge of body heat and oddly pleasant sweat. "So, um, what should we watch?"
Rya doesn't respond right away, wordlessly digging for the remote buried somewhere under her hip. You open one of your smaller boxes and find a pile of crispy-looking crab puffs. You grab one and promptly bite into it, and are rewarded with a delightful crunch as the shell gives way to a creamy layer surprisingly loaded with sweet crab flavor. The obvious abundance of grease doesn't hurt the snack's flavor at all either. Off to your side, Rya works the remote and lands on a cooking show. She starts on some of her takeout and says with a giggle, "You know what I like to think about while I'm eating? Even more food!"
Some wine-mom-sounding hostess explain a sauteing technique and you glance over and down. You try not to stare too much, but the softly bulging expanse of Rya's stomach is very distracting. Almost in response to your gaze, she repositions her takeout box onto her tummy as a makeshift table. Food properly situated, she starts efficiently shoveling forkfuls of noodles into her eager mouth.
You pop open the lid on your own portion, and after wafting away a few wisps of steam, you dig in too. The rice is sticky, having been cooked with coconut milk, and it readily soaks up all the flavors offered by the curry. The chicken chunks are tender, plentiful, and enormous – you have to attack each chunk on its own without adding any rice or accompanying pea pods. In just a few bites, you're enthralled by your meal as well, semi-consciously matching Rya's pace. She's eating briskly without being sloppy. If she can actually keep this pace up for the whole feast, then it's no wonder she's so deliciously huge. Your musing is interrupted when Rya belches contentedly, offering a faux-embarrassed "excuse me" with a giggle. You take a deep breath and try to calm your racing heart. You're nervous, sure, but you're not going to mess this up. A moment later your nerves are fortified by a huge spoonful of aromatic rice.
No words are exchanged for the next several minutes. The only sounds are you and Rya scarfing down your food and the MILF-y hostess on the screen preparing a decadent cheesy casserole. You scrape the last few morsels out of the box and into your mouth, then look over at Rya. She's got a new box of pad Thai sitting on her stomach, nestled into the previous one for neatness. She purses her pouty lips to slurp up an errant noodle, then she meets your eyes with a warm giggle.
"It's good, isn't it?" She asks, probably referring to the takeout.
"Delicious, amazing," you reply.
"Glad to hear it. I knew this place would be a hit."
Unexpectedly, Rya shifts around a little bit, and reaches out, gently setting a hand on your chubby stomach. Your breath catches for a moment. Warmth and happiness seems to radiate out from her hand, and she ever-so-gently squeezes and wobbles your fat. It feels good. Rya bites her lip as she feels your stomach, then asks, "You're still down to pig the fuck out tonight, right?"
The barest flicker of an Amber memory tries to materialize, but it doesn't stick. Despite the meal already swelling your gut, and the gluttonous feast still to come, this moment feels vastly different. Rya isn't bossing you around, she doesn't feel like she's somehow better than you. She genuinely enjoys this moment of extreme indulgence, and is happy to be sharing it with you.
"Oh yeah. I'm just getting started." The sincerity of the statement surprises even you. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you slap your belly with both hands, wobbling it a bit with Rya still touching you. Your cheeks warm a bit as you add on a lark, "Oink, oink, baby."
Rya giggles again, then lifts her hand from your stomach and snatches one of your hands. Before you can process how pleasant her grip is, she's tugged you close and leans in for a kiss. You seem to melt into her for a long moment as your lips meet and your tongues tease each other's mouths. Rya's tongue briefly darts forward, then retreats, dragging along the roof of your mouth. Rya herself then pulls away, breathing heavily.
"God you're so hot," she moans. "You'd taste better filled with some more pad Thai though."
At that, she slips free of your grip and cautiously leans forwards, neatly stacking a fresh box of pad Thai into the empty box still sitting on your lap. "We'll have plenty of time for makeouts later," she explains with a small laugh. "For now, we can't let this delicious food get cold! Priorities!"
You chuckle in reply, quickly jiggling Rya's pillowy hip (and marveling at how much of her wobbles as well), before picking your fork up again. With just the first bite, you immediately understand Rya's urgency and why she got two servings. Your mouth is practically buzzing with a salty, umami aftermath, and you immediately shovel in another greedy forkful. In spite of yourself, you moan as another wave of rich flavor explodes from the bite and the intense spices seem to fill your head. It's all you can do to hold off from holding the box up to your mouth and pouring the greasy noodles straight down your throat. You push aside the gluttonous urge, taking big swig of your soda and clearing your palate a bit. You smother the predictable follow-up belch behind your hand. Rya just chuckles in response, "Fuckin' good, right?"
Fork already in motion again, you barely hear her, managing a dumb, mumbled "mhm" back. About halfway through this box of otherworldly pad Thai is when the waistband of your jeans starts to get pretty uncomfortable around your expanding stomach. You can't help but make a concerned face.
Rya notices. "What's wrong?" she asks.
You pat your swollen stomach and explain, "I'm not done eating, but this thing is a little constrained by my waistband."
"I think I can help you out with that," she says, grinning naughtily. She reaches over, fingering your belt. You inhale sharply. She continues, "Don't worry, you can let it all hang out here. Do you mind if I help?"
You inhale again, but accept the escalation, "No, go ahead."
She unbuckles your belt and slides it out of the loop. Next, she tries to undo the snug button on your jeans one-handed, but doesn't have a lot of success. She makes a disappointed whining sound, and you undo the button for her. You sigh with relief and excitement as Rya next draws your zipper all the way down. Your belly surges outward as the zipper opens, the pressure quickly vanishing. Constraints removed, you sigh contentedly as your heavily-laden guts slosh and settle into a more relaxed arrangement.
She grins up at you and says, "There, much better."
"Much."
Your shirt rode up a bit while freeing your stomach from your tight pants, and Rya's eyes are glued to the doughy flesh peeking out from under your hem. Taking the hint, you wordlessly pull up both your shirt and undershirt, revealing the rounded keg that is your fat belly to Rya. The air of her apartment is a little chilly on your uncovered skin. She reverently pats your tubby gut, seemingly gauging your remaining stomach capacity, before taking a long moment to fiddle with the body hair near your navel.
"I don't want you going hungry," she coos.
"You sure know how to spoil a guy," you say, grinning from ear to ear.
She smiles and reaches over for her third takeout box (and yours), grunting as she leans forward. "Just call it an instinct. Now, let's get back to it."
Words again fall away as you and your corpulent girlfriend resume your gorging. A silent understanding and appreciation between the two of you is punctuated only by the sounds of chewing, the occasional indulgent moan, and the chipper saccharine drone of the modelesque TV chefs prepping calorie-bomb dishes.
Your third entree is some sort of pineapple-based stir-fry, sweet and spicy all at once. It's exotic and good, though you're starting to slow down. Perhaps it isn't quite as satisfying as the amazing pad Thai you just demolished, or perhaps it's the fact that you've already gulped down enough food for a small family. Either way, slowed doesn't mean stopped, and you continue stuffing yourself in a half-daze. Rya alternates between savoring bites of an aromatic red curry, and rubbing slow, sensual circles into her creamy pillow of a gut. She soon slips the waistband of her shorts under the fold of her corpulent belly, and it flows outward, covering about half of her lap if she isn't laying back. She looks down at it fondly and says, "Just so comfortable."
In response, you look down at your own bulging belly and feel a twinge of... something. In response, you slowly reach over and gently sink your fingers into Rya's blubbery stomach. Her skin is smooth and soft and warm. It feels incredible in your hands. You want more. You want to sink into her.
She smiles and says, "I knew you liked it."
You blush and look away, "I don't want to be weird."
"You won't be weird," she says, winking. "Come on, don't be shy."
You start to blush a deeper shade of red. You glance back and are inexorably drawn back to her vast stomach, like you want to memorize every roll and curve of it, every little dimple, and the cute tiny mole right under her hiked-up hemline. Rya giggles warmly and gently grabs your wrist.
"Here, you can do something for me," she explains, then draws your hand upwards across her squishy gut, making sure you feel the give of her fat flesh under your hand. She stops at around the rolled-up hemline of her shirt – you estimate that you're about even with her bottom ribs. "My oh-so-full stomach is under here," she purrs. "Could you be a gentleman and help my digestion with some tummy rubs?"
Somehow your face flushes yet deeper, yet you can't help but grin. Hand already atop her stomach, you gently press inwards and start making an easy circle. Rya's warm flesh gives like soft, squishy, yet springy dough, and you marvel at how it indents and bounces back as you adjust the angle of your hand.
"You like that, don't you?" she asks.
"I know you do," you reply. Rya just sighs in satisfaction, props her chubby arms behind her head, and closes her eyes.
As you gently rub, you explain, "I know from experience how good a belly rub feels when your tummy is super full. I also know how good it feels when someone else is doing it to you."
"Yes, I know what you mean," she says. "It's a special kind of euphoria. You really feel like you could just really relax and enjoy the moment."
You know quite well how cozy you feel when rubbing your own stomach, feeling a feast gently bubble away in your gut. You're not even a stranger to feeling an overstuffed girl's stomach, since Amber actually let you stuff her silly on a couple occasions. Rya... Is different still, yet even better. Her eyes flutter open and close slightly as you massage her distended belly. She's really enjoying it, you can tell. You can't feel her actual stomach very easily under her thick rolls of fat, but as you lean in closer, you clearly pick up the carnal sounds of her guts at work. It's a chorus of steady burbles and churns, the soundtrack of sheer satisfaction. You continue your ministrations, enjoying the way her body moves under your hands. The TV babbles something about cakes as you continue exploring Rya's plush form. She giggles and sighs as you jiggle her huge thighs, grab handfuls of her hips, and gently pinch her arms. Your fingers are sliding under the thick edges of her bra when she gently pulls your hand away.
She takes a few deep breaths and looks at you half-dazed. She says, "Anon, that feels amazing, but I.... Don't think I'm comfortable going further than that tonight. I hope you're not mad."
You're a little surprised by her sudden change of heart. You're not sure if you should be mad or relieved. Your throbbing cock now feels like a monument to frustration. But, that's a pretty clear message from Rya, and you'd have to be a real dirtbag to gainsay it.
"I'm not mad, and of course I'll go with your comfort level. But I do have to say that I had a ton of fun exploring your curves."
She smiles and leans over slightly. She puts a finger under your chin, almost hooking under it, gently drawing your face to hers. You follow along, and she plants a quick kiss on your lips then puts her forehead against yours. You feel her breath against your cheek and her warm skin. Your heart beats loudly in your ears. A few moments later, you pull back slightly, she gazes into your eyes and says, "Even if we're not getting more x-rated tonight, we can still keep having fun. We've done a lot of damage to this takeout, what do you say we help each other pack away every last scrap of it?"
You can't help but grin and nod as you respond, "I trust that means you're ok with me spending the night? Because I won't be able to move once I'm gorged on all this takeout."
"That sounds like an excellent outcome," she laughs.
With a reach and a grunt, Rya retrieves a box of sweet rice balls and sets them on your chubby belly. "Alright, big man, open up," she says with a bright laugh.
Any remaining ghosts of reservation you may have had about pigging out with Rya are thoroughly silenced for the rest of the evening. You quickly slip even deeper into your familiar and increasingly comfortable binge haze. Over the next several hours, you and Rya take turns feeding each other and soothing your euphorically aching distended bellies. You chat about everything and nothing, sometimes quietly watching a cooking show on TV. It's slow going, as you're both effectively continuously topping off your overstuffed bellies. But by the time you're done, you feel a hair away from exploding, and are too exhausted to do anything other than wallow, happily immobilized.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"I think that's it," Rya says around 1 AM.
"I think so, too," you say, your voice sounding hoarse.
You've shifted your position on the couch so that you're laying along it, resting your head against Rya's soft flank as though it were a pillow. Your eyes are almost closed, but you're still sort of watching yet another kitchen show as Rya tiredly makes an effort to consolidate the trash. You're on the verge of passing out and your stomach has felt ready to burst for hours, but you feel incredible.
You hear a shaking from one of the boxes and Rya says wearily, "Oh no."
"What is it?" you groan.
Rya explains, "We missed a couple dumplings. Can't have any survivors. I know we're both ridiculously stuffed, but we gotta finish this." She sounds like she's about to fall asleep already, and you can feel her wobble as she talks.
"We can't do it, Rya. We'll both finally pop."
"Nonsense," she scoffs. "Besides, if we're to die of indulgence, I can't think of a better scenario than right now."
"Ughhh," you groan in response and stifle an uncomfortable burp.
"How many are left?" You ask.
"Just two, so one for each of us."
"We can't pass this up," you say. "I've never felt so full and content in my life." Your gut pulses with a blend of discomfort and satisfaction.
"Me neither," she smiles.
"Fuck it," you groan. "Let's max out."
In resignation you tilt your head back and open your mouth, awaiting the fateful dumpling. Rya takes her turn first, gently closing your mouth but placing her final dumpling into your hand. She holds your wrist and guides your hand over your head towards her mouth, where she sucks the dumpling from your fingers with weary but satisfied sighs. You feel more than hear her swallow, then she says, "Alright, stud. Last one's all you." You open your mouth.
You already feel like you're about to pass out and that your stomach is about to explode. Rya slides the final dumpling into your mouth, pressing it home with a plump finger. She runs her fingertip across your tongue and lower lip, then leaves you to chew the final morsel. Your teeth crush the dumpling into paste, and you feel a new wave of taboo pleasure ripple through you in spite of everything. Finally, you lean back, feeling the dumpling slide down your throat. The morsel disappears somewhere into your depths, yet you seem to feel your stomach stretch and creak just a bit more. And with that, you're at one-hundred-point-zero percent. You couldn't take another bite of anything, even if your life depended on it. You're helpless, breathing hurts, you're in heaven.
The last thing you remember of that night is Rya's fleshy arm embracing your chest, and a wave of downright narcotic satisfaction spreading out from your utterly satiated gut.