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Amber took the somewhat odd step of booking a hotel room of her own in town. Perhaps it was to spare you from seeing her home again. Regardless, it's not a long drive, and Rya slides into a parking spot right by the main doors. The two of you stroll through the lobby, heading towards the room Amber specified earlier in the day. As you exit the elevator, your heart picks up. You take a deep breath, and Rya gives you a warm, reassuring squeeze. She then gives you a nod as you finally rock up to Amber's door, and you land a couple crisp knocks. There's movement on the other side of the door, a click of the lock, and then the door swings open.
A short, plump, voluptuous woman with long blonde hair, an unexpected nose ring, and a vaguely punk slash bohemian outfit greets you. Those green eyes are unmistakable – it's Amber, in the (increased) flesh.
It takes a moment to parse her appearance. Amber's silhouette went from trim to sporting only pudgy curves, with particularly thick hips and ass crammed into new-looking blue jeans. A small tummy roll bulges over the waistband and gently encroaches on the buckle of a tactical-style web belt, adorned with a couple of nick-nacks and metal buttons. Amber's torso is covered by a tight black T-shirt with a vibrant butterfly design which shows some squishy cleavage and midriff. She's not wearing much makeup, but her skin is clear and smooth. You also notice some chocolate crumbs in the corner of her mouth.
"You actually came," Amber speaks up first. "I was half-expecting to get stood up."
"Pre-gaming a bit?" You hear Rya chime in from the side.
Amber laughs. Bright and cheerful, rather than the sneering scoff you'd gotten used to.
"Yep," she says. "Had myself a rather powerful uh... Special brownie. Hope that's ok with you guys?"
"Yeah," you answer. "Though you probably should have asked first."
Rya speaks again, "Just so long as you don't make an ass of yourself. You can handle your pot, right?"
Amber chuckles, clearly amused. "Oh, don't worry," she says. "I'm not that much of a lightweight anymore. And besides, I'm ready for fun, not trouble."
"Glad to hear it," Rya replies, then points at the corner of her mouth, trying to clue Amber in on the crumbs. The other lady seems confused, so Rya scoffs and reaches forward, clearing away the sweet debris. Amber blinks, looking a bit flustered.
"Oh, heh, thanks," she says, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I guess I got a bit carried away."
"No problem," Rya responds with a small smile.
"Come in, come in! At least for a bit. I can be ready to go in just a sec," Amber ushers you in, and you notice flashes of rainbow candy-tone nail polish plus a jangly leather wristband. As you and Rya enter the hotel room, you say, "I... Uh, like the new look, Amber."
She digs out a bandanna with patriotic motifs and turns towards you, tying it around her head. "Thanks. I'm... deliberately trying out some new looks and personas. I'm really serious about trying to become a new person."
You feel your heart swell with pride for Amber. It's clear she's making an effort to change, even if it's difficult for you to fully trust her yet. You decide to be supportive. "That's really great to hear, Amber," you hear yourself say.
Amber smiles, looking down at her plump body. "Not to mention basically adding another person's worth of mass," she pats her belly lovingly.
You clear your throat, hoping to distract yourself from the unexpected and somewhat unwanted arousal that Amber's words caused.
Rya nudges your side, chuckling almost imperceptibly. She teases Amber, "You have only just started down the path of fatness, Blondie. There is still much to learn, and so much to eat!"
Amber looks at Rya with a mixture of surprise and defiance. "Hey now, I'm a quick learner," she says, patting her tummy again.
"So, uh," you say, looking around the room. "Speaking of eating. You still up for a hardcore feed at the buffet?"
Amber grins widely. "Hell yes," she says. "Why do you think I just dropped a twenty-five milligram indica bomb into my tum?" She winks at you playfully.
"Again, just don't overdo it, ok?" You reply. "I really don't want to have to carry you."
Amber laughs. "I'll be fine. I've actually really gotten into being kind of a stoner, so I can handle my pot. And I'll do my best to behave!"
"Glad to hear it," you say. "Shall we head out then?"
Amber nods, and throws a few things into a small purse. You notice her straining just a bit to get her shoes on. It's unexpected; you always remembered her as a pretty serious gym bunny. The next moment the three of you are strolling down the hall. The elevator is painfully slow, and you notice – is Amber breathing a bit heavy? A few steps to Rya's car and your group is piling in. Rya driving, you next to her, and Amber plopped into the back seat and already giggling a bit. "Man, that edible kicked in fast. I'm already starving!" Amber marvels, squishing her gut playfully.
"Just hang in there, string bean," Rya calls back. "It's not going to be much of a drive." The late afternoon sun borders on intolerable, even with the car's AC cranked to the max. Thankfully, the ride to the Old Ridge Big O franchise is indeed short. Rya growls with frustration as she gets narrowly edged out for a convenient parking spot, and is forced to park a decent walk from the entrance.
"Well, crap," Rya mutters, shaking her head in annoyance. "Guess we're getting some unwilling exercise today."
The three of you pile out onto the scorching blacktop. Amber is already swaying slightly, but doesn't have any trouble trotting after you and Rya. As you enter the air-conditioned chintzy country haven of the buffet, you can't help but sigh happily at the relief. Rya's fanning herself with a hand, but otherwise seems comfortable, and makeup is intact. Amber is actually sighing and huffing a bit, and this time Rya notices.
"You doing okay, Amber?" Rya asks, a concerned look on her face.
"Oh, uh, yeah," Amber replies, a bit breathlessly. "Just, you know, really out of shape."
You chime in, "You? Out of shape?"
Amber laughs between breaths, "Yup. Haven't run a step all year, been smoking tons of pot, and oh yeah -" she slaps her plump ass, "- packed all of this on real quick!"
She exhales with finality, her stamina seemingly recovered.
"Honestly," Amber pats Rya's chubby arm, "You're probably fitter than me right now."
Amber's hand seems to linger on Rya for just a second or two longer than it should. "Well, maybe," Rya says with a small smile, her gaze flicking to meet Amber's. "I can share some tips I use for staying fit and lusciously chunky if you'd like."
Amber grins widely. "Maybe later, girl," she says teasingly. "But right now, let's focus on stuffing our faces!"
You can't help but notice the slight redness in her eyes, but you don't dwell on it. In just a few moments, you're getting rung up at a cash register for buffet access. Amber clumsily digs out her credit card and lays it on top of yours.
"I'm paying my own way," she insists.
"No complaints here," you answer with a grin.
A scruffy, bored-looking young man rings up your group and hands back some receipts. You proceed from the register and hold out an arm for Rya, who promptly hooks you in her pudgy elbow. Feeling a sudden flash of impulse, or perhaps mania, you offer your other arm to Amber.
She takes you up on your offer, seeming a bit surprised but also delighted. "You're really not mad at me anymore?" Her voice is hesitant, but she loops her arm around yours nonetheless.
"I believe you when you say you're a new Amber," you say. Both girls grin at you. You then hear yourself say, "And besides, how often will a schlub like me get to have a hot fat chick on both arms at once?"
Rya slaps your shoulder indignantly but laughs. Amber blushes and staggers slightly, leaning heavily against you and tightening her grip on your arm. On your other side, Rya notices Amber's unsteadiness. "Hey, you ok over there?" Her voice is kind, but carries a noticeable edge of annoyance.
Amber nods, still blushing. "Yeah, just a little woozy. Too much pot, not enough food," she says, smiling weakly. "But I'll be fine once I start stuffing my face."
Well, you're definitely riding the tiger now, nothing good can come from ratcheting down the confident act. "Alright ladies, I see a table right over there," you point around Rya's doughy arm. "Just gotta make it over, then we can start the feast!" Rya and Amber make enthusiastic "mm-hm" noises. On a lark, you glance over you shoulder and see the scruffy cashier with his jaw proverbially on the floor. Feeling your ego swell by the second, you shoot him a wink, and get underway.
You feel like the coolest guy in the world as you walk arm-in-arm with Rya and Amber. Even though you plot a course through the widest walkways, your tubby companions have to squish themselves against you more than once. Being sandwiched between them is divine, even if you know there's no chance of anything happening with Amber. You're trying not to be self-conscious, but you do catch a few tables eyeing up your group. Rya seems just as smug as you are, clearly sensing the attention. Amber's in her own little world, mumbling to herself about what she wants to eat first. Soon enough though, your thoughts gravitate towards the food line too, the rich scents growing stronger with each step. Eventually, you reach the promised table. You swing Amber forwards and release her soft arm. She clumsily pulls out her chair and practically falls into it. You let Rya go as well, and she settles into the slightly-undersized chair.
A moment after you've landed on your own seat, a waiter swoops by the table, drops off some water glasses, and props up a little flag to indicate the table is taken. You breathe in deeply, the scents of various foods tickling your nose. "Alright ladies," you say, "Let's put on some weight!"
Amber's up first, giggling and tottering slightly as she grabs a plate and begins snatching fistfuls of seemingly everything. Next, you take Rya's hand, gallantly helping her up, and allow her to get in line ahead of you. Rya quietly chuckles as the two of you watch Amber devour a bread stick in about one bite while still standing. For her part, Rya's loading up on carby starters: butter-drenched bread rolls, cheese sticks, and even a soft pretzel. You generally follow suit, but also add a clutch of bacon-wrapped jalapenos and a valiant pile of lettuce that you flood with dressing. Amber shuffles back to the table first with a heap of buttery, fried goodness on her plate. She's practically inhaling her bites, and quietly making sounds that she never even emitted during sex. You reach the table just before Rya, and hold her up for a moment, scooting over a second chair to accommodate her wonderfully huge ass.
Rya giggles as you playfully pat her hip. "Thanks, Anon," she says, settling into the newly-doubled seat. Amber seems to have momentarily forgotten her surroundings, lost in a haze of greasy bliss. Rya leans in close to you, her breath tickling your ear. "I want to see you really cut loose tonight," her pudgy hand slides over your thigh and briefly tickles your junk. "That's an order."
You lean in close to her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Yes mistress," you whisper back, grinning at her cheekily. Amber finally seems to come back to her senses, and turns to you with a look of surprise.
"What was that?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Nothing important," you reply with a grin. "So, is the food up to your standards? I know you can have a refined palate sometimes."
Amber looks at you strangely for a moment, as if she's trying to read something in your expression. Then, she shrugs and takes another bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully. "It's good," she mumbles through a mouthful of food.
"You gotta try their fried chicken," you say. "I don't know what it is, but there's a certain something in the breading that's actually really tasty."
Amber seems to perk up at your suggestion. She's still a bit loopy, but definitely seems more attentive with some food in her system. "You had me at the word 'fried'," she laughs. Next, she pats her tummy and jiggles it briefly, coaxing out a small but shameless burp. Then she rises to her feet, still wobbly but less so. "Still so hungry... Gotta eat more, gotta grow..." She mutters to herself as she leaves for the food line. You grin as you watch Amber's antics, then grunt as Rya pokes you in the side.
"Hey, keep up, lightweight. Don't make me force-feed you!" Rya chides with a laugh.
You laugh and nudge her back playfully. "Oh, don't worry. I'm just warming up," you shoot back, stuffing the remaining bacon jalapenos into your mouth as emphasis. Chewing heavily, you feel the rich, spicy flavors flood your mouth and sinuses. As you work through your greedy bite, you soak in the atmosphere, the ambient buzz of conversation and the clinks of diningware setting you at ease. Somehow, the omnipresent drawling of classic country music doesn't get on your nerves. It's oddly endearing actually, even if you can barely hear it.
Amber shuffles back to the table with a plate of fried chicken and a mound of mashed potatoes. As she sits, a momentary quiet descends upon the restaurant and you clearly make out a bar of lyrics from the overhead speakers.
"And the pigs come rollin' hoooooome....." A female voice jubilantly croons. All three of you look at each other, then burst out laughing at the improbably on-point lyrics.
"Welp, oink oink, bitches," Amber says between guffaws.
"Absolutely ridiculous," Rya declares. "But dumber shit happens all the time."
The buzz around the restaurant picks up again, and the song breaks into an energetic fiddle solo. You gesture approximately at a speaker with a fork, "That singer is Daphne Dogwood. She was definitely talking about raising actual swine, not being a chubby chaser. She's... really into singing about farming."
Rya scarfs down a greasy bite of bread and rolls her eyes, saying, "Well so long as she's not singing about beer, trucks, jeans, beer trucks, truck jeans, beer jeans..."
You chuckle.
Amber snickers but seems a little put off. "Hey now, not all country music sucks. Just a lot of it."
At this point you glance down and realize you've finished your first plate. "Hmmm," you grunt. "Speaking of piggies, I think I need some pork."
Rya looks at you and smiles, patting your belly lovingly, "Guess we are what we eat, right?"
"You mean delicious, rich, and sweet?" You shoot back, layering your hand on top of hers. The two of you share a laugh before Rya nods her head in agreement. "Definitely," she says with a grin. "Now go reload."
You stand, feeling your first course settle warmly in your gut, but leaving you wanting more. Much more. After braving the line, you plop back down next to the ladies with a pulled pork sandwich and a hotdog. Somehow Rya fetched a fresh plate when you weren't looking, and is working on a brick of lasagna. Amber is still happily munching away at a variety of breaded chicken morsels.
Raising the sandwich to your lips, you take a bite, but clumsily have to lean forwards to dodge a surprise gout of sauce. As you wipe your face, Amber titters off to the side, "I wouldn't be upset if you stayed messy, you know."
You glance up at her, a bit surprised, but also a bit flustered. "Well, not this time. My binge, my rules," you say with a small chuckle.
Amber shrugs and goes back to her food, clearly amused by your retort. Rya grins at you, her plump cheeks dimpling, "I wouldn't mind either..."
That makes you nearly choke on your next bite, but you struggle it down and answer, "Hey, we're in public. We can't get too depraved, even at a buffet."
Rya just giggles at your reaction, her chub jiggling merrily. Amber seems to perk up at this exchange, and shares a knowing smirk with your girlfriend. You just roll your eyes, knowing there's nothing you can do against the girls' silent scheming. You're actually surprised at how quickly you put away the pork sandwich, and the hotdog only lasts a few bites. As you sullenly regard your empty plate, you notice Amber just finished up her portion as well.
"I have an idea," you declare.
Amber cocks her head, "Oh?" Definitely still high but more clued-in.
"How about a challenge? From here on out, you eat whatever I eat. Think you can keep up with me, Amber?"
Amber looks at you for a moment, then grins widely. "Just one question first. Why not Rya?"
Rya gulps down a huge morsel of lasagna and laughs, "Because I'd wipe the floor with you or Anon. Maybe even both of you teamed up."
"It's true," you laugh.
Rya wobbles her pillowy stomach while grinning with fake ferocity.
"Besides," you add, staring down Amber. "I owe you just a lick of revenge, right?"
Amber smirks, her green eyes twinkling mischievously. "I suppose you do. Alright, what'll I get when I win?" She leans back in her chair, shirt conspicuously riding up and showing off a wide swath of her plump tummy. Under the restaurant's lights, you can make out a new piercing at the apex of her navel, and the tops of some pale stretchmarks creeping up from her waistband.
"Just bragging rights," you reply, trying not to stare at her alluring muffin top.
"Good enough! Challenge accepted!" Amber giggles, slapping her gut and licking her lips hungrily. "You're going down, fat boy!"
You get up without another word, your stomach seemingly digesting and gurgling at overdrive in preparation. The trip to the food line is quick, and you return with two plates, each sporting a cheeseburger and a slice of cherry pie. Amber's eyes widen as you deposit a plate in front of her. "Ooh, good choices," she says, then grabs her burger. You chuckle and dig in to your own sandwich, judging the cheap burger as you chew. It's merely fine, nothing special but also nothing bad. Amber merrily munches away about half of hers, then she takes a brief pause.
"So, uh." She takes a sip of water and blinks a few times to gather her thoughts. "I might be moving away from Old Ridge before too long."
You pause mid-chew, your eyes widening in surprise. "Really?" You ask, swallowing down the bite of burger. "Where to? And why?"
Amber nibbles her lip, either from impaired stalling or actual consideration. After a few moments, she answers, "I had a chance encounter with somebody who was negotiating with a co-op up in Storm Cove. Apparently they need some talent at their business office, and well, I used to be little miss business..." The competitive spirit of the half-cocked competition is clearly shelved for the moment.
Rya chimes in, "Storm Cove is supposed to be nice. You'll get to be by the ocean!"
Amber takes a thoughtful bite of her burger, her mood clearly dimming. "It'd be a nice opportunity, and I think it'd be a way to actually do some good. But..." She takes another bite, "It's like moving away is admitting that I've run out of chances here."
You say, "Hey, by your own admission you've burned a lot of bridges here. Maybe a fresh start wouldn't be the worst thing. A new town worked out great for me!"
Rya squeezes your forearm and beams at you.
"I know," Amber answers. "It's just... Gah, I can't explain it..."
She's holding something back, but you don't want to press. Instead, you redirect. "You're smart, you'll make a good decision. But in the mean time, you've got a burger to eat with me, plus some pie, plus whatever else I decide to gorge on!"
Amber takes your lifeline, her eyes lighting back up as her competitive spirit returns. "I can handle anything you throw at me! Can't wait to see what we're stuffing ourselves with after this!" She stares you down and tears a huge hunk out of her sandwich.
Rya watches with all the indulgent detachment of an emperor at the Coliseum, doubtlessly pondering what to swell herself with next. Soon you've packed away your burger, and are playing catch-up against Amber with the pie. You've had the cherry pie before, and it's just as pleasantly sweet and gooey as you remember. As you finish up your pie, you glance over at Amber, who's swallowed her last bite as well. She gives you a smug look, then briefly sticks out her tongue and shows you her mouth. "I gulped it all down like a good greedy girl," she teases. "And I'm ready for more. C'mon Anon, I thought you've become an even bigger eater now!" You grin defiantly at her and stand up from your chair. "Before you know it, you'll be begging me to stop," you taunt, gently rubbing your swollen belly.
Amber chuckles, clearly amused by your bravado. "Ooh, some spine!" It takes an incredible amount of focus to keep from popping a boner from all of the food and the charged banter, but you manage it somehow. You procure another two plates and prowl the food line for your next course, eventually settling on paired heaps of macaroni and cheese plus two cups of colorful sliced fruit.
You bring the plates over to the table and set them down, grinning at Amber. "Alright, let's see how you do with this," you say, picking up your fork and digging in. The dish is a blast of salt and warm umami, the cheese heavy, thick, and sticky.
Amber stares you down as she fills her cheeks with dripping heaps of cheesy pasta, rolling her eyes back as she chews. She's definitely leveled up her appetite, but you know she can't help but play her mind games, and just focus on filling your own belly. As you continue to stuff your face with the rich and creamy macaroni and cheese, you also keep track of Amber's progress across the table. She's clearly trying to keep up, her eyes never leaving her food as she shovels it in with a determination that matches your own. She's only a bite or two behind you as you move on to the fruit. The sweetness and water content is a much-needed palate cleanser, and the pineapple chunks hit particularly good. You show off a little bit, slurping the residual watery juices at the bottom of the fruit cup. Not to be outdone, Amber follows suit.
A familiar tightness is growing in your gut, but with competition on the line, you know you can push yourself much farther. You glance over at Amber. She locks eyes with you, rides up her shirt a bit more, and unbuckles her strained belt. Her bloated belly surges outwards incrementally, and you'd swear you could hear it slosh and settle. She pats the plump dome and shoots you a predatory grin, saying simply, "More."
You chuckle and slowly close your eyes, not quite believing what you're seeing. But then again, this is Amber we're talking about. She's always been a bit of a show-off.
"Well," you say, rising to your feet, "I'm not one to disappoint a lady."
For her part, Rya seems content to passively soak in the weird epicurean power struggle between you and your ex, still treating the scene like it's mealtime entertainment. Somehow she retrieved another new plate, this one piled with casseroles and even more bread. Rya's huge belly seems to be visibly swelling under her tight shirt, but her pace is just as relentless as always.
For this round, you decide to try something tactical. Another two plates, each loaded with an equal number of chicken fingers, plus an assortment of dipping sauces. You're gambling that Amber might be tired of the fried chicken, and that her appetite might erode a bit. You set the plates down on the table and take a seat, trying not to look too smug about your strategic maneuver. Amber eyes the new dish suspiciously, and laughs, "Joke's on you. I could gulp down fried chicken all day!"
A smile is your only response, that and stuffing a chicken finger into that smile. You're definitely noticing how distended Amber's gut is getting, but she's chomping away with gusto. You're feeling every single calorie you've crammed into yourself, but it's Amber who makes that first unmistakable huff of exhaustion. As you watch Amber's progress, you notice her face flicker with discomfort. Her cheeks are flushed and she's breathing shallowly, but she refuses to give up. With a tender clenched in her teeth, she reaches under the table and unbuttons her pants, sighing with relief. She then scarfs down the chicken morsel with a growl.
"Not bad, not bad," you compliment her, your voice tinged with pride and amusement at her tenacity.
She swallows roughly, swaying slightly in her seat. Methodically kneading her gut, she loses a bassy belch, a smile of relief blooming on her face. "Fucking. More." She demands.
"Keep eating like this, and you're gonna get fat," you tease her.
Amber's eyes flash, and she inhales sharply, squirming in her seat. "I already am fat," She declares with a manic grin. "And I love every fucking inch of me!"
"Atta girl," Rya chimes in, looking regal from behind a plate full of sweets.
"You ready for some desserts, oh expanded ex of mine?" You say to Amber.
She blinks slowly a couple of times, stifles another belch, but says, "I'm not giving up. I can... I can eat more."
She's clearly about to pop, but you get a kick out of her bravado.
"As you wish," you chuckle and rise to your feet. As you do, you finally concede a groan of your own, your stomach feeling like a bowling ball. You waddle back to the line and load up your coup de grace – two slices of the richest chocolate fudge cake on offer, which you soak equally in complementary caramel lava sauce. You bring the plates over to the table, placing them in front of Amber, who's eyes widen at the sight. "Oh, this is going to be good," she murmurs, licking her lips. Her earnest greed in spite of how stuffed she is sends a powerful jolt of lust through your being, and you literally bite your tongue to maintain some composure. You start into your own chocolate cake, and as expected it's overwhelmingly rich. An avalanche of sugar sets your heart racing, and the sticky fudge plus caramel oozes into every crevice of your mouth. It's almost more than even a fatass like you can handle. Amber seems to be doing her best to keep up, her face contorted in concentration as she struggles to cram more cake into her already-distended belly. The sight of her devouring the dessert is almost too much for you to handle, both from lust but also from growing dread. How in the hell is she still keeping up?
The answer is because it's an act. Amber shovels in another forkful of the cake, with about a quarter of the dessert left, when her chewing slows and stops. Cheeks full of sugar and chocolate, she moans, "No... I can't... But I want more..." She miserably chokes down the mouthful of cake, and you could swear you hear the bite landing with a thud inside her. Amber releases a strained burp and slouches back, face contorted with discontent and discomfort, breathing shallow and her hands cradling her gravid stomach.
"I can't eat anymore," she moans. "But I'm still ahead."
You glance down in shock and realize that she's right. Amber only left about a quarter of her cake behind, you're still only half-done with yours.
"You gonna... Throw in the towel... Fat boy?" Amber breathlessly taunts, heaped into her chair like a swollen blonde whale.
You shake your head, feeling a rush of determination. "Not on your life, Amber," you growl, forcing down a big chunk of the remaining cake. A quick sip of water to unglue your tongue and settle your overstuffed gut, and you're back at it, steadily swallowing the cloying treat. Amber watches you with a mix of grudging respect and barely-concealed lust. "Damn," she mutters, shaking her head slowly.
Despite the familiar pulses of overstretched discomfort, you cruise to a clean plate, and triumphantly show Amber your chocolate-blackened tongue.
"Can't believe I lost..." She moans.
A wave of contented exhaustion flows through you with your victory secured, and you suddenly feel gracious. "Not by much," you say, breathing deliberately and riding out your stomach's complaints. "You really made me work for it. I can't believe you had that sort of appetite in you!"
Amber gives you a lopsided grin, her mouth still flecked with crumbs. "Oh, I've always had it," she says, her voice low and sultry. "But now that I'm not holding back... well, let's just say I'm learning to embrace it."
She brings a hand to her mouth, but can't quite muffle the bubbly, growly belch that bubbles out. "Hehe, 'scuze me. Oink oink," she giggles. "Oof, that helps a bit."
You can't help but chuckle at Amber's antics, even as your own stomach grumbles in protest. "You definitely didn't hold back," you reply, meaning to say more but interrupted by a burp of your own, which lands more like a slow exhalation.
Rya laughs brightly off to the side, "Bravo, bravo! Gallantly fought, both of you. Now I trust you've gotten enough to eat?"
Amber finally wipes her mouth with a napkin, her cheeks still flushed with excitement. "Only barely," she admits. She pats her distended belly, the sound reverberating tightly like a drum.
You pat your own gut, your innards sloshing unhappily at the slightest touch. "I could go for a little more... After a breather...." You chuckle. Rya chortles and dabs her mouth clean, then heaves herself to her feet. Patting her own swollen paunch, she says, "Oof. I can still walk, so that means I'm good for at least another plate. I'll be right back, you two."
Even after dating her for this long, you're still blown away by Rya's capacity when she truly cuts loose. As you watch her waddle away towards the food line, your gaze shifts back to Amber, who is still staring at you with a mixture of awe and lust. You can tell she wants to say something, but she's struggling to find the words. You decide to take the initiative.
"Well, you got what you wanted after all," you laugh quietly. "I took my revenge and made you fat."
Amber smirks at you, her green eyes sparkling. "You're not wrong," she admits. "But you know what? It feels good. It feels right. And I like it."
She takes a deep breath, her tight shirt straining as her chest raises and falls. "I'm... Really sorry about how everything turned out. I really am."
You nod, understanding her apology. "I know you are," you say, reaching over to pat her arm reassuringly. "Not gonna lie, sometimes I wish you could have found this version of yourself while we were still together."
Amber smirks at you again, but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she says softly. "I do too. But you know damn well I would have just gotten worse. As much as the breakup sucked, I think it was the kick in the ass I needed to finally be honest with myself."
You nod in agreement, taking a deep breath to calm the churning in your stomach. "Yeah," you concede. "Still, I'm glad you're finding happiness and peace, even if it's in a form I never expected."
Amber leans in laboriously and takes a sip of water. "You know," she starts. "I'm not really a true, dyed-in-the-wool narcissist."
"Really?" you ask, genuinely curious and raising an eyebrow.
She shrugs, looking away. "Yeah. If I were, I wouldn't feel remorse for taking advantage of people. I'd be sad or regretful, but only because I wasn't getting my way."
"And the breakup was some sort of light switch moment?"
Another shrug, but she's still not looking at you. "Kinda."
Amber's reflections are interrupted by the heavy arrival of Rya, gingerly balancing a plate piled with desserts and a coffee carafe. "You're having a moment. Please, don't mind me," she says quietly.
The smaller girl turns a shade green as she beholds yet more food, but continues her musings, "It's like... I wanted to be nice, more empathetic, but it just... Wasn't really there. Like my body had a lower niceness per pound ratio or something."
You nod, but smile slightly, "That was definitely your fetish expressing itself subconsciously."
"Yeah, probably," she agrees. "Genuinely letting myself enjoy a binge, really digging into the sensations of my body, it... Was like opening an eye I never knew I'd kept closed."
Rya sets the coffee pot down and begins to pour into three cups, handing one to you and Amber respectively. "Well," she chuckles, "I for one think you look so much happier. And sexier, I might add."
Amber blushes again at Rya's comment, but seems to take it in stride. "Thanks, Rya," she says, looking between Rya and you. "Hey, if I need the weight of two girls to have the niceness of one, guess I should be glad that it looks good on me!"
You laugh at Amber's joke, appreciating her wit and high-concept sense of humor. "I guess you're right," you say, taking a sip of coffee.
The three of you sit quietly for a little while. Rya nibbles at an eclair, while you and Amber sip at your coffees and will your binges to digest. On the speakers, a drawling country singer rambles on in an ironically major-key ode to crippling alcoholism.
"So," Rya addresses Amber. "Read any good books or see any good movies lately?"
Amber glares calculatingly at the plate of desserts but doesn't reach for one. Eventually she answers, "Oh! Right, yeah. Uh, a couple weeks ago I finally sat down and watched Evangelion. I'm kinda still thinking about it."
"Really?" You ask, surprised. "I watched that show years ago and I still think about it. It's... intense."
"Fucking hedgehog's dilemma," Amber mutters to herself. "It's a good thing I've been on a self-reflection kick lately, because that idea hits really hard, y'know?"
You nod in agreement. "Definitely."
Amber seems to visibly switch to a new topic. "On a lighter note," she says, "I've... Gotten into some romance stories lately."
"Oh?" Rya giggles.
Amber snickers, slightly embarrassed, "Yeah. But uh, fetishy romance."
"Do tell," you raise your eyebrows.
"Well," Amber begins, her voice taking on a slightly conspiratorial tone, "I'm reading this one fantasy story with a half-retired adventurer heroine. She discovers a secret order of witches who get their powers from being fat. The biggest ones are like... Blobs, and they have all these attendants who dote on them and feed them..."
"Sounds interesting," you say, taking another sip of coffee and laughing at the patent absurdity.
Amber shrugs, seeming to take pride in her choice of reading material. "Of course the heroine joins them and winds up a huge butterball in her own right. Oh, and they're all fucking each other like crazy. There's some... Shockingly vivid and visceral descriptions of massive feasts and sex between people who weigh like an actual ton."
"Wow," you say, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. "That must be quite the experience."
Rya is listening with a small, amused smile on her face. "Really diving in on the fetish lifestyle, eh, Amber?"
Amber rolls her eyes but smiles a little. "Hey, I've got a whole lifetime backlog of self-denial to burn through!"
"Speaking of," you decide to push. "Don't think I don't see you eyeing those desserts. You've still got some cake to finish."
Amber eyes widen slightly at the mention of the desserts. She glances over at Rya's plate longingly before regarding her leftover cake, then turning back to you with a small smirk. "You know," she says, "I think I'm pretty much stuffed full. But maybe I could squeeze in just one more bite....if you make me."
You smirk back at Amber, feeling a small twinge of amusement and arousal. "Well, it would be a shame to let all of this go to waste," you say, picking up a fork. Leaning forward, you scoop up some of the sugar-soaked chocolate cake. Amber opens her mouth, already groaning with anticipation. You slowly feed her the bite, enjoying the shifted power dynamic between the two of you. As she chews, she closes her eyes and moans in delight, relishing the sweetness and richness of the dessert.
"Mmm, that's so good," she says, licking her lips.
"Being a submissive suits you so much better," you reply.
Amber smirks at you over the morsel of cake in her mouth. "I'm not submissive," she protests around a mouthful of cake. "I'm just... Really fucking hungry."
"Shush," you order gently but firmly, scooping up another lump of the cake. Amber falls in line immediately, waiting for your fork. You continue to feed her, smirking at your newfound authority. She seems to be enjoying the experience, her eyes closed in bliss as she savors each bite.
Suddenly self-conscious about the intimacy of the situation, you glance over at Rya. She gives you a small smile and a thumbs-up, trusting your judgment in the charged encounter. Amber, still lost in the experience of being fed, seems unaware of the exchange between you and Rya.
"This is... Really nice..." She murmurs. "So full, but it's so good..." You spear the last morsel of the cake and deposit it onto Amber's tongue.
"Atta girl," you say as she accepts it.
Amber swallows heavily and opens her eyes, looking around the restaurant with a newfound sense of contentment. "This was... Different, but in a good way," she admits. "When did... How did... You become such a good feeder?"
You open your mouth to answer, only to find a glazed eclair barging past your lips. Catching on immediately, you glance over at Rya, driving the treat and grinning devilishly.
"Well," Rya says, "Guess he's good at learning by watching. Turns out I like Anon all bloated and full too. So we've got that in common, Amber."
Amber grins, and you wordlessly grip Rya's chubby wrist, tugging towards you. Rya giggles and aggressively stuffs the pastry into your mouth, and you gnash and swallow mightily to keep up. Amber watches the exchange with a mix of shock, arousal, and amusement. "Jesus, big girl! You might even be more dominant than me!"
Your cheeks are still stuffed with sweet dough, so Rya answers instead. She lasciviously licks her fingers clean and muses, "What can I say? It's fun to take charge."
Swallowing, you let out a groan of satisfaction, feeling the pastry land heavily in your overstuffed belly. Rya's not done showing off. She grabs another eclair and tosses it onto Amber's plate. "No leftovers, eat up."
Amber grins and clutches the treat, but a mere nibble later her face falls. "Rya, I'm so stuffed, I'm gonna explode," she whines.
Rya leans in, her belly and breasts straining her shirt. "Ok, are you actually at your limit, or are you just being a brat?" She asks evenly. "It's ok if it's the former, but if it's the latter I'm going to cram that eclair down your throat. Say what you mean."
"She'll do it," you chime in with a laugh.
Amber gulps, eyeing Rya warily. "I guess... I can probably fit it," she admits.
"You know what that means. Give it here," Rya replies.
Cheeks flaring yet again, Amber meekly relinquishes the eclair and opens her mouth. Without hesitation, Rya deftly stuffs the treat past Amber's lips. She groans and gags reflexively, her face contorting in discomfort. But true to her word, she doesn't recoil. Amber works her jaw, trying to scarf down the dough and cream before she can choke on it. And in just a few moments, it's over. Amber chews and swallows with her eyes closed, eventually clearing up enough space to coo, "Oh God, now I'm actually about to pop... Fuck, it's so good though... I wish I could just keep eating..."
You glance over at Rya, who is smirking at Amber's plight. "Well, a good feeder can always find another little bit of space," Rya says, patting Amber's shoulder.
Amber groans and leans back in her chair, soothing her overloaded belly. "Why do you guys have to click with my kinks so well..." She laments.
Rya glances at you, her eyes wide.
"Amber," you start cautiously.
"Sorry," your ex immediately backpedals. "That was over the line. I know... You two are monogamous... And I've gotten to bend the rules enough as is..."
"It's okay, Amber. For my part, I'm not upset. This was a fun evening," you shake your head, but try to ease her angst.
You look over at Rya, praying she's feeling equally gracious. She nods in agreement. "It's not just tonight. It's been over a year of our weirdly intimate psycho-sexual... Thing. But. If I were uneasy at any point, I'd have spoken up. And I've clearly been comfortable with everything we've done," Rya giggles.
Amber exhales slowly, clearly relieved. "Good... I don't want to mess anything up. I just... I really like both of you guys, and you're such a great couple."
"Amber Castillo," you say with a genuine smile. "You're smart, you're pretty, and you could out-eat a linebacker. You'll have no trouble finding a hot boy who'll feed your face and worship your curves."
Amber beams at your words, her face a mix of embarrassment and pride. "Y- yeah. Thanks, Anon." She stumbles for a second, maybe hung up on something you just said, or maybe just high, but you don't dwell on it. A vibe of serenity descends for a moment. You're oddly at peace, even in the presence of your ex and finding her sexy. You decide it's genuine happiness at seeing her accepting herself.
The reverie is shattered by a belch from Rya's seat. "Oof, excuse me," she laughs. "That one snuck up on me."
You glance over at Rya, who looks slightly embarrassed but also amused. She looks enormous and positively radiant, practically a supersized totem of abundance and beauty. You've long since lost count of how many plates she'd devoured, but she definitely looks rounder – you'd even swear the fat anime sorceress on her chest is even flabbier.
"So..." She giggles, slightly wheezily, "I definitely ate at least one eclair too many and need a minute before I can move again."
The incredibly bloated sensation in your middle reasserts itself, and you groan. "No worries," you say. "I think we all need a bit to re-gather our strength."
Amber has a thousand-yard-stare, slowly rubbing her belly perhaps a touch too indulgently for a public place. You glance around, worried about prying eyes, but quickly realize that your table's antics are unremarkable at this temple of gluttony. In seconds, you count no fewer than four groups of overstuffed gourmands, including an obviously lesbian BBW couple in undersized shorts and crop tops. You indulge in just a moment to ogle the couple. A swarthy, bottom-heavy girl and an apple-shaped redhead are tucking into what seems like a whole tray of spaghetti. The swarthy girl is the smaller of the two, merely plump, and seems to be encouraging her girlfriend. The redhead probably has at least a hundred pounds on Amber, and her fat gut hangs out even more shamelessly as she gorges. As you continue to watch the redhead shovel pasta into her mouth, you feel a gentle nudge on your arm. Rya is still smiling, but there's a hint of concern in her eyes.
"You ok over there, teddy bear?" She asks.
"Yeah," you snap back to the moment. "It's just kinda oddly comforting to be reminded that we aren't the only big eaters in the world."
Rya nods, a hint of understanding in her eyes. "I know what you mean. Sometimes it's nice to be around people who don't judge you for your size or appetite. It's like we're part of a secret club or something."
Amber chuckles, finally tearing herself away from her own thoughts. "I guess we are," she says, her voice a bit dreamy. "And it's a pretty great club, if you ask me. Now if only there was a secret code phrase or handshake or something..." She looks at you both, a bit sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm still really stoned, and now I'm ready for a nap..."
I think the handshake is eating a huge meal during a date and daring your partner to make a big deal of it," you laugh and nudge her lightly.
Rya giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly. "That's probably not too far off the mark, to be honest." She takes another sip of coffee, gauging the discomfort in her huge gut. "Oof... I'm not looking forward to the walk back to the car, but I think my fat ass can finally waddle again. You guys ready to get out of here and collapse into a food coma?"
"Yeah," you groan, shifting your weight and preparing to stand.
Rya squeezes Amber's arm. "Hey, string bean. Think you can make it to your feet?"
Amber grunts in response, her eyes half-closed. "I'll try. I think I'd rather be rolled home, though..."
"Counter-offer," you say. "You can lean against me."
"Okay..." Amber whispers.
Rya chuckles, her chub rippling, "Walk in with a fat babe on each arm, walk out with fatter babes on each arm?"
"Who wouldn't take that chance, girlfriend?" You quip back at Rya.
She grins at you in reply.
You inhale and gather your strength to stand. With a slow grunt, you rise, and your belly gurgles and sloshes, somehow seeming swelling more as you change your posture. You take another breath, shorter this time, as your gut strains against your waistband. "Ah, there's that ache..." You groan to yourself.
Rya has a steadying hand on the table, but is on her feet as well. Amber needs a bit longer, and happily accepts a supporting hand from you. The effects of her binge are dramatic. Cramming so much food into her shorter frame has bloated her stomach like an overdue pregnancy. She happily shows off the taut bulge, completely unbothered by her exposed midriff, dangling belt and unbuttoned jeans. She leans against your side, a free hand lovingly caressing her overfull belly. "Now that was a meal," she whispers blissfully.
You lead the way towards the exit, Rya wrapped around an arm and Amber hugging your other. The rest of the restaurant patrons watch you all with a mixture of amusement and envy, unable to tear their eyes away from the sight of the three overstuffed fatasses slowly shuffling towards the door. A buzz-cut Latino-looking guy, probably wider than tall, glances away from his wife or girlfriend to give you an enthusiastic thumbs-up. You grin back and nudge Rya, who gives your new fan a demure wave. Amber's on another planet, wrapping herself around your flank even more.
As you pass through the lobby, you notice the scruffy young cashier guy from earlier. He's preoccupied with conspicuously eating a chocolate bar, obviously trying to impress a pudgy dark-haired colleague. You smile inwardly and help file the girls outside.
The three of you make your way onto the parking lot, blacktop still radiating heat despite the sun sinking behind the horizon. You're all too focused on just staying in motion and keeping your churning guts in check to say much. Amber's embrace gradually becomes more clingy – you don't appreciate her body heat amidst the muggy evening, but you assume she needs the support. She eventually reaches over and starts clumsily pawing at your distended belly, growling to herself. You decide to simply tolerate her attention - it's only a few more steps to the SUV, and it does admittedly feel nice. Rya, on the other hand, seems to be holding up quite well. She's leaning against you a little for support, but her breathing is steady, and she seems to be avoiding any sudden movements. She occasionally glances over at Amber, a mix of curiosity and concern in her eyes.
Finally reaching the car, Rya fishes out her keys one-handed, releasing you and heaving herself into the driver's seat. You open the backseat door for Amber and usher her in amidst some woozy protests, then finally flop into the shotgun seat. Rya finally wobbles herself into place then starts the car and turns up the AC, the cool blast feeling like a godsend against your sweaty skin. You lean back and let out a long, low groan, feeling your stomach settle somewhat. Amber is already passed out in the backseat, her mouth open slightly, and her chest rising and falling slowly. You grumble to yourself and twist in your seat, huffing with every movement, reaching back to buckle her in. Your ex just shifts and murmurs contentedly.
"That was really nice of you," Rya comments as she gets the car in gear. You grunt tiredly in response, trying to find a position that minimizes the discomfort of your stomach.