A Fattening Friendship-Part 2

With their class schedules and eating habits aligning so closely, Taylor had become the person that Stephanie spent the most time with outside of Brent, and the two girls knew each other well enough at this point to feel comfortable complaining about their respective daily struggles to clothe themselves approximately. 

“Hello?” Stephanie answered, setting down the shirt and attempting to tug her bra into providing more coverage with a single hand.

“Hey,” Taylor greeted the light panting letting Stephanie know she was already making her way to class. “Do you wanna go get food after this? I’m gonna need a pick me up, I barely studied for this quiz.”

“Yea right,” Stephanie scoffed, well aware that Taylor was an academic overachiever sporting a 3.99 GPA. “You always say that and then you get an A, I don't believe you.”

“Well, this time it's true,” Taylor insisted. “I was supposed to study more last night but-”

She paused, giggling. 

“Thomas had me pretty busy.”

“Of course he did,” Stephanie retorted, blushing lightly as she realized the very same could be said for her and Brent.” But I'm down. Where do you wanna go?”

“I was thinking Portillos? I want Italian.”

Stephanie looked down at the way her tits spilled from her straining bra and her heavy, bulging gut protruded out over the waistband of her ill-fitting leggings. 

“Portillos is kinda fancy,” she started hesitantly. “I don't…I don't really have anything to wear.”

“Me neither girl, just wear whatever,” Taylor dismissed. “Thomas took me there on a date night a few weeks ago and the fettuccine alfredo is literally the best i've ever had, i need more.”

“Well yea, but I really don't have anything to wear,” Stephanie  protested further. “I was gonna wear leggings and a t-shirt to class today.”

“You’re not already on the way?” Taylor retorted incredulously. “Dude, you're gonna be late, come on! Just wear whatever, you’ll look totally fine. I promise.”

Stephanie sighed again, pressing a finger into the bridge of her nose as was her habit when she was stressed, and decided to relent, suddenly acutely aware of her own pressing hunger the moment Taylor had mentioned food. Stephanie was always hungry, a hunger that was becoming more and more difficult to ignore, and her ability to resist the temptation of a hearty meal was quickly waning. 

“Fine, fine,” she finally rushed, already pulling the phone away from her face. “I’m leaving in like five minutes, I swear. See ya soon.”

She put down the phone without hanging up, aware that Taylor knew of her propensity for lateness, and examined the t-shirt once more. She truly couldn’t wear that outfit to Portillos. Even she couldn't go that far. She had no problem bursting out of shabby t-shirts on campus, but when she was in the real world she felt so observed, too self-conscious to go about any of her business without breaking out in a light sweat from all the eyes glued to her wobbling gut wiggling its way to freedom.

She put back the t-shirt and grabbed a slightly blousier option, reasoning it would go well with the leggings and dress them up a bit. The shirt was a cream-colored linen blouse with buttons running down the top quarter that morphed into swirling, intricate designs in the same muted cream, giving a unique yet understated impression. There were ruffles at each sleeve and the roomy, light material was perfect for concealing a full belly, making the top a favorite of hers when she’d been thinner. Although she hadn't worn the shirt in ages, she actually had some semi-reasonable expectation of it fitting her much larger body given its oversized nature, and she tugged it over her head hurriedly, already in a rush. 

Much to her surprise, the blouse refused to slide down without a struggle, and she sucked in for all she could and held her breath, her underused ab muscles doing little to actually reduce the size of her gut but the shirt finally sliding down regardless. She winced as the buttons reached her chest, trying to think skinny thoughts, and was pleased when they held, gaps immediately appearing between them with the fleshy meat of her tits spilling from her outsized bra poking through. She frowned but hustled out of the walk-in closet regardless, her time running short. 

She paused briefly at her vanity, inspecting herself in that mirror as well, and frowned again. The shirt was practically skintight and left little of her gain to the imagination, but at least it wasn't a t-shirt adorned with cartoon mascots. She ran her fingers through her hair, the motions surprisingly effective at minimizing her bedhead, then threw open her vanity drawer. She might not have time for cute hair or makeup, but she could at least wear some jewelry. She selected a simple gold link bracelet and the pair of earrings that she hoped would steer the most attention away from how tightly her belly pressed against her shirt and how obscenely her tits were bulging through the button gaps: a massively oversized pair of thick, yellow gold hoops. 

They were one of her favorite pairs and often drew lots of compliments, which to Stephanie meant that they served as an adequate distraction for how tight her clothes were. She pressed the earrings into each lobe fasted them shut, and gave herself one final look over. She looked fat, but there was nothing she could do about it in the moment. 

“At least something still fits me,” she thought grumpily, touching the earrings and admiring the glint of the 18k plating. 

She grabbed her backpack, stuffed her feet into her shoes, and was out the door by 9:55, a critical five minutes later than she’d originally planned. Not only would she not have time for one last quick study session with Brent before the quiz, but she’d also basically have to run to her class, a mortifying proposition considering how crowded campus was at this hour. 

She stepped onto the well-populated sidewalk cautiously, as if testing it would hold her weight, and was already blushing before taking a single step, well aware of how embarrassing the next few minutes would be if she wanted to make her class with any semblance of urgency. She took a deep breath, already concerned about her air intake, and began a slow, plodding jog to the nearby engineering wing, the pinking of her cheeks only intensifying with each panted step. Her leggings immediately rolled their way down, making what seemed to be no attempt to hold back the tidal wave of her belly fat, and her gut plopped out gratefully, bulging even further forward as if glad to be free of its confinements. 

She tried to suck in but could barely hold the tension in her middle for a full second, the added exertion of running with all that heavy new fat coating her body dominating the brunt of her physical energy. She released her ab muscles with a gasp and continued, her molasses-like movements basically as slow as the other student’s average walking pace. The real problem with running (or any exercise that Stephanie attempted, although attempts outside of sex were few and far between), was her massive, unwieldy rack. Her tits bounced and shook as if they had a mind of their own, and the fact that the bra she’d crammed herself into technically had the word ‘sport’ in its name, did little to actually support her overly bountiful breasts, the tightness of the material actually adding to the near hypnotized jiggle that poured over the bras top while thick swell of fat pushed through its sides. 

She was already huffing and puffing as her shirt continued to ride up and more of her belly bulged free, and although she was trying to focus on herself, trying to remind herself that nobody noticed and nobody cared, ignoring the stares, especially at her meandering pace, was unavoidable. The first giggle floated to her ears less than a minute after she began her impromptu workout, and her blush renewed its vigor, only tiring her out further. She reached the corner, glad to be nearly done with the ordeal, and was horrified to see a group of students staring at her, their laughter as poorly concealed as her portly, butterball belly. 

She continued, wishing she were fast enough to actually carry herself out of their sight in a timely manner, and as she failed miserably at her attempts to pick up speed, more and more laughter filled her ears. 

“Oh my god,” came a murmur from her left, and Stephanie winced as if struck, still getting used to the idea that she was so fat it was shocking to the average person. 

She was less than a minute from the building, rounding the corner as the entrance she normally utilized came into view, when she heard a deep voice cry:

“Run fatass, run!”

The outdated movie reference was met with hilarity from all students within earshot, and Stephanie stopped in her tracks, partially from exhaustion but partially from the horror of an entire green full of students laughing at her for her dramatic weight gain. She was humiliated and wanted nothing more than to vanish, but still had at least a hundred feet to go in order to reach the door. It was a negligible distance for most, but after the toll the taxing cardio had taken on her body the idea of reattempting her slow run into the building was a nonstarter through and through. She sighed and walked the remaining way, looking at her feet in an effort to avoid eye contact with the crowd still giggling around her. 

After a grueling quiz that an extra five minutes of study time would’ve had no impact on the outcome of, Stephanie, Brent, Thomas, and Taylor all stood in the hallway outside their class, saying their goodbyes as the girls discussed their plans for lunch. 

Taylor was dressed in her typical uniform, jeans so tight that the steadily developing upper roll of her belly puffed over the waistband and wobbled within its constraints and a straining black top that exposed the swell of her love handles and emphasized just how far her belly protruded outward, meaning Stephanie had relaxed the moment she’d seen her, glad that her outfit was casual enough that the two of them wouldn't be a mismatched pair in the restaurant. Thomas had his arm around Taylor’s waist and was resting it on the swollen pudge of her lower belly, yet another indicator to Stephanie that Thomas's proclivities mirrored Brent’s, and Brent couldn't seem to keep his hands off of Stephanie as well, their conversation interrupted by the tension in the air. 

“And you’re sure you don't need a ride,” Thomas confirmed, speaking to both of them but looking only at Taylor, his eyes full of affection. “You know I don't mind.”

“We’re good babe, we’re good,” Taylor confirmed. “We’re just gonna uber, it's no biggie.”

Thomas pulled her closer, as if the idea of separation from her for even a few hours pained him, then grinned at Brent, who barely noticed with the silent voracity he was feeling up Stephanie’s body with. 

“Dude, you wanna go shoot some hoops?” Thomas asked, referring to the constant and contentious running game of pick-up that the campus courts perpetually hosted. 

Brent grinned as well, the male dominated activity not one he typically participated in considering his doting devotion to his sweetheart, and the contrast in their activities made Stephanie blush. The boys were going to get some fresh air and exercise, to burn off calories they hadn't even yet consumed, while the girls were headed to an overpriced restaurant to stuff their faces like pigs. 

With a kiss for each of their plump paramours the group split, Stephanie already starving due in large part to her missed opportunities for the syrup-laden breakfast she usually stuffed down in the dining hall before class, and she and Taylor headed to the restaurant, chattering excitedly about what they planned to order. 

Their plans, as it turned out, were well intentioned but insufficient, and downing two bottles of wine between the two of them as they devoured their many courses left both girls in a loose giggly state that only exacerbated their hunger. 

They started with two baskets of complimentary bread slathered in butter and a large order of fried calamari for their first appetizer. Their second appetizer, the fried eggplant parmesan, was so good they ordered another, as well as a basket of truffle fries to split. Taylor ordered the fettuccine alfredo she’d been greedily dreaming of since tasting it for the first time and Stephanie opted for a creamy Cavatappi, but after each girl tasted the other girl’s portion, they placed the same order in reverse, cramming themselves with at least 4 portions worth of the heavy, thick cream sauce and the dense, carb-heavy pasta. 

Despite how aching full they both became, neither girl could pass up the opportunity for dessert, and an order of tiramisu, a vanilla panna cotta, and an entire plate of cannolis disappeared into their impossibly bloated stomachs. They both required several minutes of recurportation in order to digest enough to stand, and their ‘break’ was really no break at all, as their tipsy reasoning led them to down two more cocktails each in the interim. 

By the time they were actually ready to leave they’d been gorging themselves in the restaurant for nearly three hours and were well into the realms of intoxication. Taylor was stifling drunken hiccups and Stephanie was burping unabashedly, the two of them laughing at themselves and each other as their inebriation allowed them to more openly acknowledge the elephant in the room: They were both getting absolutely huge, and little outings like this certainly weren’t helping. 

In their state they decided that calling Thomas to come pick them up from the restaurant was the safest and most logical decision, and the second Thomas picked up the phone to hear Taylor's gleeful and flirtatious inebriation, the boys dropped what they were doing immediately and headed to rescue their women. 

Much to Stephanie’s delight, Thomas arrived with Brent in tow, and the second they pulled up to the restaurant's curb where the two girls were loudly chortling at nothing, both men got out of the car almost immediately, leaving it both on and idling. 

“Goddamn, baby,” Brent breathed as he approached, his eyes locked on Stephanie and a longing, almost hungry expression working its way into his features.

Stephanie grinned in return, the wine and mixed drinks rocketing her past confidence and directly into the realms of cockiness. 

“Goddamn is right,” she repeated loudly, and Brent laughed, already extending a hand to help her stand.

Thomas, busy with the process of tugging an overfed Taylor to her feet, glanced over at Stephanie, watching her struggle to lift herself into a fully upright position even with Brents involved assistance. 

“You girls really enjoyed yourself, huh?” Thomas teased, his gaze unmistakably on the bloated, exposed belly that Stephanie had drunkenly allowed to slip free of her leggings and bulge freely in front of her. 

Her blouse was still technically covering her modesty but had ridden up significantly as well and the remaining fabric was clearly stretched to its absolute limit, her gut pressing into the poor blouse with a pressure that it could clearly no longer maintain. 

“Next time you two go out to eat we're gonna have to roll you out, won't we?” Thomas asked, producing a blush from Taylor but also inadvertently triggering the same cocky defiance that Brent had encouraged in Stephanie.

“Yea, I guess you will,” she retorted brashly, placing her hand on the crest of her overstuffed middle in a way that she knew drove Brent crazy. “I guess you’ll have to start squeezing us through the doors too.”

Taylor giggled, too loose to be concerned with the concealment of her and Thomas’s obviously hedonist sexual dynamic, and Stephanie was only encouraged, taking her little performance even further. 

“You should've seen how much we ate today,” she said, directing the taunting temptation of recollection to both boys. “You wanna hear how badly we gorged ourselves? How the waiter kept asking us if we were really sure we wanted more? How everyone in the restaurant couldn't stop staring at the way we were making total pigs of ourselves?”

A strained look crossed over Brents's face and Stephanie smirked, certain her teasing was doing exactly what she wanted it to. 

“I mean, you already know it was a lot,” she went on, one hand not so absently toying with the massive hoop earring that had given her enough confidence to actually leave the house in an outfit that tight. “Just look at us.”

“What?” she asked innocently at the ensuing silence, well aware of just how enraptured Brent was by her oversized earwear. “What?” she cooed in repetition, the combination of her commanding jewelry and the restaurant's heavy pours making her feel like a siren, a vixen, an irresistible delicacy with the ability to entice whomever she targeted. “You two don’t wanna hear about how we packed these bellies full?” she asked, giving her gut a firm smack that produced a deep, low burp. “Excuse me,” she giggled. “You don’t wanna hear about how Taylor could barely get her pants buttoned back up at the end of the meal?”

Brent, entirely hypnotized by the blubbery, flirtatious distraction in front of him was slacking on his role as Stephanie’s mobility assist, but despite his reduced effort, Stephanie was finally beginning to find her footing.

“You don’t wanna hear about-”POP

She was interrupted by the explosion of the straining top’s buttons her fleshy tits had already been pushing against, and both breasts bounced from the sudden jarring impact, spilling out of her now painfully tight bra and bringing every eye on the sidewalk to her now dangerously exposed cleavage. 

Brent audibly, gulped, the cartoonish sound all he could muster in the face of his every fantasy come true. 

Stephanie stood there, every piece of clothing she was crammed into fighting to explode off her body and her double chin somehow only emphasized by the ever-tantalizing hoops glinting from each earlobe, and her three companions stared at her in a mix of shock and awe, clearly stunned, but also helpless to look away from the mesmerizing jiggle. 

“Wow,” Taylor finally breathed, breaking the silence. “Stephanie, you got fat.” 

“And I wonder whose fault that is,” Stephanie replied in a low, seductively charged voice, never once breaking eye contact with Brent. “Huh? Do you know, baby? Do you know how my belly got so big? Do you know why all my clothes are so tight?”

“C’mon,” Brent blurted abruptly, grabbing her by the hand and all but dragging her back towards the car. “C’mon. I gotta take you home,” he said. 

He gripped her pudgy fingers a bit tighter and drew her in close, close enough that his husky, lust-deepened voice was barely audible in her ear. 

“Right, fucking now,” he emphasized, staccato punctuating his words. “I need to rip that top the rest of the way off.”

After what seemed like a very long ride in which Conner was clearly struggling to maintain both his composure and his self-control, they finally found themselves alone, Stephanie lying on the bed with her body finally bare, her poor clothes released of their fatty, swollen burden. 

She burped then reached lazily towards Brent's belt buckle, giving up when the bugle of her belly prevented her from sitting up any further, and Brent undid the buckle himself, eyes never leaving Stephanie's figure. She raised herself onto her hands and knees on the bed, her belly ever so slightly brushing the comforter, then pushed herself slightly onto her haunches and tugged off the black hair tie cutting into her pudgy wrist. She pulled her long, thick hair into a slapstick ponytail, preparing herself for the next meal she knew would be shoved in her mouth, and then reached for her left hoop earring, ready to take it out in preparation to deepthroat Brent's already throbbing cock.

“No, no,” Conor insisted in a rush, grabbing her hand and bringing it back to rest on her plump thighs before she had the chance to remove the earring’s back. “No. I want you to leave them on. I want fuck your throat while you wear those slutty fucking hoops. You’ve been teasing me with them all day like you don’t know what it does to me.” 

“Yea?” Stephanie retorted, a smirk crossing her face. “Yea? You like when I wear these?” she taunted, arching her back towards him to expose even more of her excessively ample chest. “You like when I wear these skin-tight clothes with my hoops, you like when you have to do all the work cause you made me too full and too fat?”

“Take it off,” Brent worked through gritted teeth with a gesture at her overfilled bra, his arousal clearly taking over. “Take it off right fucking now and then take this cock in your pretty mouth.”

Stephanie grinned and did as she was told, removing the bra with a moderate struggle and exposing her perfectly pink nipples, the buoyancy of her tits near inexplicable considering their size. 

“Down on all fours,” Brent instructed, eager to watch as her belly hung to kiss the mattress, a fantasy she’d only recently been able to fulfill for him. 

He approached her slowly, but Stephanie, true to her ever-greedy nature, took him in two hands and devoured him hungrily, thrilled to hear the immediate cacophony of Brent’s pent-up moans as she unexpectedly took the length of his cock down her throat in one go, skipping any pretense entirely and deepthroating him like she didn't care about oxygen. She’d been taunting and teasing him so intently that day that he immediately lost all semblance of self-control, placing a hand on the back of her head and pushing himself even deeper just to hear Stephanie choke on him. 

After just a few minutes of sloppy ecstasy, she felt him stiffen and twitch and grinned with her lips still around him, grateful for the perceived compliment. She began to work her way along his shaft, using her tongue to play with his head, and Brent grunted, clearly close. 

“Fuck,” he groaned breathlessly. “Fuck, fuck, don’t move baby.”

He pulled out, clearly seconds from eruption. 

“Don’t stop, I wanna cum on those fat tits while your belly pushes into the mattress, I wanna…fuck, he cried as he spent himself on her chest, a satisfied smile already on Stephanie’s face. 

“C’mon,” Brent panted, recovering. “C’mon big girl. Now it's your turn.”