Touch & Go

In this vignette, a young lady eats a bit too much, & needs a helping hand. Pretty straightforward. I just like writing impossibly stuffed women. Marking ‘gassy’ for the burps & tummy rumbles she lets out. Enjoy

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The noises coming out of her don’t even remotely sound human.

From the faintest squeaks & creaks to just the most ungodly, tectonic rumbles. None of it sounds like anything that should ever be coming out of a person. Not under normal conditions. And yet somehow, it is.

You’ve really done it this time. Packed her to her very limit. On a scale of one to ten, she’s at least a twelve. Even just the tiniest lick of frosting & she could potentially go kaboom. So no sudden moves. Jostling her the wrong way could spell instant disaster. At this point, she’s more of a round, delicate bomb than anything. More ordinance than young lady. All thanks to you.

Getting her to stand seems out. At least for the rest of the evening. Probably best to make her as comfortable as you can, when you can, & just leave her lie here til morning. Hopefully her digestive system will have been able to process at least a sixth of what she ate before then. Softening up into all that pudge she seems to wear so well.

Still, there’s a part of you that can’t help but feel a strange sort of pride here. In causing this to happen. Helping her reach this precipice. And having the self-control to stop her when you did. The amount of finesse that takes? You’re a pro at this. And now just imagine how much this will stretch her stomach for next time! Once it all settles, & is no longer such an angry red color.

A long, distinct glorp emanates from her, as you take stock of the half-euphoric, half-pained stupor she’s in right now. It reminds you that this wasn’t entirely just your handiwork. Her insatiable appetite played a pretty significant role in all this too. Credit where credit’s due & all. It took a bit of coaxing, but slowly, she’s turned into quite the eating machine. With your gentle nudging of course.

She slowly inhales through her nose, sucking in what little air she still has room for, before releasing it back out as a woeful, guttural moan. She’s so full, she hardly even sounds like herself. But she needs an outlet. A way to help cope. As does her dense, round, globular tummy. It too needs to cope, releasing a strange, audible gurgle of its very own as a follow up. One that forces her eyes squeezed shut & her lips into an immediate pucker. All as it’s coupled by yet another weird squelching sound, her body struggling to do what it can to digest at least some of these calories. Immediately.

“My… [urp] gawd…” she vocalizes softly, in that weak way where it’s hard to tell if she’s happy, on the verge of tears, or the brink of exhaustion. You really hope it’s the first, but wouldn’t be surprised with any option, or even some manner of combo. “Suh- s- such a… [belch]… p- pi- pig.” She manages to whimper, deprecatingly, stuttering a bit like Porky herself. Poor thing’s too full to even think straight! Still, you think back. It’s funny how the concern she used to have for her burps melted away, especially now, too full to possibly care. But calling herself a pig? She’s seemingly trying to illicit some of the teasing she enjoys from you some times. It’s very gracious of her, still trying to keep the foreplay going, despite the precarity of her own structural integrity. But frankly, you’re just a little too proud of her right now. And it’s safer not to push things.

“My pig.” You remind her simply, brushing her cheek with your palm. It seems to redden just a little more as she seems soothed by your touch & melts a bit into your hand. It’s enough for her, as she attempts to curl her lips into a smile. All while biting back a deep burble that causes her body to shudder slightly.

The way she’s slouching, her arms are feebly out to her sides. As her middle continues to let out a bunch of strange sloshes, even she seems a little too worried about touching her potentially explosive belly, as it dominates what’s left of her lap.

“Cuh-“ she attempts, flapping one of her arms indiscriminately. It seems like a little too much movement, & instinctively, you kneel closer to stop her & see what she needs.

“What is it?” You’re looking to prevent her from doing anything too rash. Especially in this condition. “What do you need me to do?”

Her head rolls back with another slightly pained gasp, her bomb-like belly bobbing. Both her arms bend, but only at the elbow, as she brings them up to shake swivel them in soft, out of sync ovals. The way they frame her tummy, while remaining a few inches removed, pantomime the rubbing of her belly.

“C- could’ju?” She begs weakly, too out of it to even look in your general direction.

Normally, she wouldn’t even have to ask. Rubbing her full belly has become one of your favorite pastimes. Hers too, seemingly. But tonight? Tonight’s a little bit different. Tonight there’s a little bit too much in there.

“Are you sure that’s… such a good idea…?” You hesitate with a bit of a worried snicker. Her head’s still tilted back, her eyes closed, but trying to hold back another gassy discharge, she musters up the energy for an emphatic nod. At least before realizing its shaking the rest of her body just a little too much, & the burp becomes too much to hold back.

“[BELCH]…. Oh-ooouuooooh. P- ple-please.” She whimpers desperately. Her face tightens again for a moment as she contends with something else bubbling from within her. Upon release, she continues to try & insist. “Really… n-need it… now… m-more than… ev- [urp]… er.”

You stare down at the turgid bulge of flesh, & swear you can almost see it throbbing. You’ve been fighting the urge to touch it this whole time, given how sensitive it must be. But it’s been begging to be touched. And now she’s begging you to touch it on top of that! But it’s almost like one of those puffball mushrooms you used to come across as a kid. And you worry it’s almost equally as delicate.

“Ohhhh-ooooh,” she groans again, seemingly trying to make you feel guilty for not listening to her. She needs this. And you very much want to. You just have to take it slow. And easy! Crouching in closer between her out spread legs, you slowly ready your hands to tou-

Wait!

She left out her lotion from the evening before. It’ll help your fingers glide across the surface, be a lot more gentle. You pivot to the end to squirt a bit into your palm, before spreading it across each. A hint of lavender fills the room. All the while, she waits, impatiently for your caress. Though she smells it & smirks, happy you thought of it.

“Okay…” you vocalize, as reassume the position back between her legs. You offer it as if it’s some kind of warning to brace.

With the delicate manner of a bomb squad defuser, concerned you might just set her off, you merely hover your outstretched fingers over the surface of the dome at first. Another squorch, another gurgle. You see the thing shake without your assistance, causing her to let out another moan. With her eyes already clenched tight, she bites her plump bottom lip in anticipation. Slowly, you bring her hands in to make the lightest contact you can. She winces slightly as you do, maybe from the pressure, but most likely from the coolness of the lotion. But her expression seems to slowly melt with a strange kind of relief once contact is made. And she pokes her nose upward twice, as if to signal it’s okay to begin rubbing.

You start to push your hands over the surface of her tight tummy. Your right hand clockwise, your left hand counter clockwise, as you But beyond the depth of her stretched skin, there’s hardly much give at all. It feels… wrong in a way. Dangerous. Maybe you didn’t stop at just the right time. Maybe it ought to have been a couple of chicken tenders sooner. You watch her face carefully, just over the crest of the protrusion, as it rapidly oscillates between expressions of pleasure & pain, trying to gauge how firm or fast you rub & where not to rub at all.

It doesn’t take long to dislodge an another inhuman chain of gassy belches from deep within her taut torso.

"[Eeep] Ohh [URP] [ungh] oh gawd... [brrrp]" She tries to ball a fist to cover her mouth but too much air is escaping her. You panic, concerned you might have jostled her just a little too much, freezing in place. But when she's able to gain enough composure she shakes her head in disapproval.

"Keep going...?" You ask, your tone tentative, & worried that you may have already set off the fuse to her imminent explosion. But upon hearing your voice, her disapproving shake turns once again into a clear, emphatic nod, with her brows tilted woefully. Demandingly.

"And... pr- press.... hard [urp] -er." She instructs, placing her hands on your own & squeezing them into the sphere of her engorged abdomen much more firmly than you thought she could manage. "I...... nee-need... this," she insists, in almost more of a series of grunts than words.

Once again, you begin your tight little orbits, but her hands continue to guide you, now not only pressing more firmly, but also sweeping across a wider expanse of her bare, bulging belly. Doing so causes her brows to furrow. You almost want to stop, but her hands only seem to squeeze in tighter to yours. To the point you're practically kneading her taut tummy like dough. She lets out a sharp yelp. Your hands want to slow, but she urges you on, guiding your hands to the furthest she's able to reach, under her navel, & practically squeezing at this point.

"Har- [brp] der!" She begs of you. You put twice the weight into your palms obediently, but find yourself flinching, ready for her to go off like a warhead. And she almost does!

Suddenly her eyes bulge wide & slightly cross-eyed, & as much as her globe of gut allows, she springs upward from her slouch, lurching as forward as she can. You instinctively freeze & brace for the worst, until...

[BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP]

It's the type of belch so loud & comical that it's reserved only for the crudest of cartoons. Straight out of a sound effect library for "the loudest burp ever." A sound you would never expect to come out of someone usually so soft & demure. And while it's not directly in your face, you roll back off your shins & onto your palms, slightly shocked, but somewhat relieved. Though maybe not as relieve as your partner.

As the gas escapes her the usual sparkle returns to her beautiful, inquisitive eyes. You stare at each other in silence before cracking into laughter.

"Excuuuse You!" you chide, happy that your worst fears didn't come true. She's still achingly full, but at least she's not bloated to the point of being unable to think.

“Omiga- [urp]- awd,” she chuckles with relief. “I- [ooof] vaguely feel… almost… human again… Almost.”

"That, was nuts," you laugh. "I wish I recorded it."

"What? No!" She sheepishly retreats, but her belly prevents her from doing much but laying back into her slouch again. It's funny the things she still gets a little self-conscious about doing these sorts of things these days.

"Did it help at least?" You smile, giving her belly a soft, tender little pat. She still winces a bit, letting out a few little errant air bubbles.

"[Urp] Loads, actually." She sighed in relief. "I guess I must've eaten too fast. It was all so good though..."

"I was honestly kinda worried you were on the verge of exploding there for a second," you admit with a giggle. "Not going to lie."

"And I'd be lying if I told you I didn't have that thought for a split second too," she giggles. "But I'm not THAT delicate. Heck, with things loosened up in there..." she says, giving her belly another slight pat.

"What? No. You're not..."

"Honestly? I think we... [whooh] made just enough room for a little bit of that ice cream I saw you sneak in there." Once again, she softly plunged her front teeth into the side of her bottom lip, fluttering her doe eyes at you from her reclined, belly favoring position on the couch.

"You want... more?! Still?" On one level, you're actually impressed. On another? A bit concerned about this monster you've seemingly created. Just ready to gorge herself to her absolute limits, again & again & again.

"There's room now! I swear! I won't... [urp] pop!" She promises, feebly holding up fingers for an oath. "Scout's honor." You try to put up a front. Try to tell her enough is a enough. But you know it's useless. You know you can't help yourself, whenever she asks for something to eat. Instead you just sigh.

“Damn girl. You are such a greedy pig sometimes!”

“Your pig!” She corrected, rubbing her swollen gut & licking her lips with a soft little chortle, counting down the seconds until you inevitably cave.