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What You See: Kelly's Belly
by Mango Man


Kelly stared at the piece of paper in front of her. On it was everything she had eaten so far today. Donuts, two cheeseburgers, two quarts of ice cream...a bag of chips. Not listed was the personal-sized pizza perched on the chair next to her. It was only noon. "Maybe it's because I'm traveling," she thought even though she knew that wasn't the problem.

"Maybe it's time to be honest with yourself about what you're doing," she thought. But what was it? Beyond succumbing to an incredible hunger?

If you were sitting across from Kelly, this is what you would see: a perfectly normal-looking girl, waiting for her flight at an airport gate. She has a concerned expression on her face and is fiddling with some paper, but this is not what you notice first. You notice her blonde hair, highlighted in subtle streaks, with barely any curl to them. Her lips are plump, her mouth small. Blush is worked into her cheeks, eyebrows are tweezed into thin lines and eyelashes flutter. A bit of azure shimmers off the lids. You also see that the pizza next to her is not the first pizza she's ever had in her life.

What you don't see is who she used to be, how she used to look. Her jaw line, previously sharp as a razor has gone soft, her chin showing a noticeable bulge under her neck. In photographs it is starting to show up as a double chin. Her shoulders have smoothed out, breasts bulging from a C to the outward frontiers of a D cup, shadowing the rounding of her belly, the fullness of her thighs.

You don't hear what her mother says, that she is "self-confident" which is her way of saying that she isn't self-conscious about wearing clothes her mother feels do not compliment her figure. But Kelly can't stop wearing her "cute" outfits, her sleeveless baby tank top with thin red and white stripes and crisscrossing straps in the back - straps that used to flop loosely between her shoulder blades but now stretch and bite into her shoulders. This top, it used to hover two inches above the waistband of her low-rider blue jeans - now the separation is closer to five inches and it looks as if it was painted on, her tan belly taught and round and fat, straining to be free.

What you don't see is Kelly placing a coat over her legs, glancing around, then sliding the top button open on her jeans then grasping at them in panic as her belly lurches outward, pushing the zipper down with a ripping sound that, to her, seems to be the loudest sound in the airport. What you don't see is what Kelly sees, glancing downward, her belly sagging over the open flaps of her jeans, nestling against her legs, hiding the pink bikini-style panties that have all but disappeared between her thickened legs.

You want a number? Okay, here's a number: twenty-five. She's gained twenty-five pounds in three months. Now, at 5'4" and 185 lbs. and 25 years old she's furious and thrilled and scared and trying to deny one simple fact: she enjoys it. What she doesn't know is that, by the end of the day, she will have finally made peace with this fact. What she doesn't know is that, in the next year, she'll put on another 100 lbs. and that won't be the end of her gaining.

At this moment, she wishes she didn't like it, wishes she hadn't had that stupid conversation with Suzanne, her roommate, about how it was becoming fashionable for women to show their bellies, even if they had soft bellies, like Kelly. They looked at pictures on the Internet - even the president's own daughter did it.

The low jeans, the pudgy tummy jiggling, taunting her family, titillating the world. For so long women were supposed to be ashamed of their bellies unless they were concave and fleshless. That trend had reversed, and was growing.

That was when it happened, when she said it. It was Suzanne's idea. Her eyes glimmered a bit, mischievous, devious, alluring.

"Let's gain weight."

Kelly giggled. Her nerves jangled.

"Let's get big, beautiful bloated bellies that hang down over our legs. Let's have heavy, voluptuous breasts and a wide, ample ass that guys will want to grab and won't let go!"

They were laughing now, neither sure if Suzanne was serious.

"I've heard there are guys who like fat girls," added Kelly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I read about it."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? The sex is better to them. The weight, the curves, the plush softness...." Kelly blushed, feeling she had said too much but Suzanne was intrigued. She had been on many different diets and was just sick of the whole thing -- scales, calories, guilt and all that bullshit.

They made a pact that night. To each gain ten pounds. To see how it felt. To see how guys reacted. To see how girls reacted. Just to see. It was harder for Suzanne, it took her nearly two weeks. Kelly did it in two days. They were both shocked at Kelly's gain. Both had moved up and down the scale before but now, it was different. Kelly lay in bed imagining herself larger, her belly ballooning past her breasts, pinning a man underneath her girth -- the fantasies frightened her but for the first time in her life she found it easy to orgasm multiple times with this image in her head, of her growing form.

Suzanne had been on WeightContemplator's for awhile during college and they used that scale to track their weight. It also estimated body fat percentage. Kelly had gone from 28 to 34 percent in the last three months. Before she hit 180 she found herself at a bar one night and let herself get picked up by a man who seemed close to 30 - a few years older than her. She couldn't believe it when he focused so much attention on her softening middle.

These thoughts race through her mind while she sits in that airport, staring at her hands, her eyes stealing glances at her belly bulging over her jeans, her spine tingling.

She looks up and sees a woman, perhaps five years older than she, easily 230 lbs. but perhaps taller. All of her weight is in her hips, in her thighs but mostly in her rear which, with each step, rises, pushing her loose blouse up as she walks away from Kelly, the fat jiggling and straining at the fabric. And Kelly thinks one thing: she looks great. And that she would like to be that heavy ("or larger," says a voice in her head that she tries to ignore.) A wedding ring flashes on the woman's hand, Kelly thinks of the man she took home that one night, things he said, things he admitted.

This is something else you have not seen: Suzanne walking to into Kelly's bedroom on the night of their pact three months and 25 lbs. ago -- the bottle of wine they shared while surfing the Internet has Kelly sleeping soundly. She lies on her back, lips slightly open. This makes it easy for Suzanne. She is slightly built, a dieting expert but deep-down a lover of large people and struggling with her own desires to be larger, voluptuous and ample like all of the other women in her family.

What you do not see is a packet in Suzanne's hand, about the size of an envelope of table sugar. She rips open the paper and pours the contents into Kelly's mouth then creeps out of the room. It's a dietary supplement she ordered from Mexico, an untested, unreliable fraud with ridiculous claims to fizz up, expand in the stomach to make you feel full and allow you to skip meals. It's just the sort of dangerous, crash diet idea that doctor's hate. But Suzanne gives it to Kelly for a different reason - she tried it herself a year ago and put on ten pounds as her body rebelled against the periods of starvation. She thinks it will do the same for Kelly. She doesn't know how right she is. She also doesn't remember that the packet says to drink it with liquid -- that this helps moderate the expansion. She doesn't see, as she leaves the room, the results of this mistake.

If you were there, you would see a sight that –- in your near future -- would look familiar.

This is what you would see: Kelly's nose crinkles up a bit. Then over the next hour, Kelly's belly begins to expand. She is, today, somewhere around 160 lbs with just a shade of plumpness to her - when she bends over to tie her shoes, she feels a slight bulge but thinks nothing of it. But now, on her back, her belly rises. She grimaces. In her sleep, she pushes at the covers, fiddles with her top, her belly is exposed now, as the minutes pass it grows steadily until it looks as if she has swallowed a basketball. Her hands grasp her belly and rub it sleepily. And then it begins to relax, to return to form. She opens her mouth and sighs -- a long rush of air whispers from her lips and her belly relents, returns to a flatter state. She has, in essence, deflated. But her stomach capacity has quadrupled. The muscles have stretched and her ability to eat until she feels full has become a huge challenge. In several hours she will wake with a slight dryness in her throat which she will attribute to the wine and the vestiges of a dream where she had grown enormously fat. She will remember the pact, laugh then become aware of an enormous hunger –- and Suzanne cooking something delicious in the kitchen.

Kelly sits in the airport remembering only the dream and the feelings of hunger that followed the pact. How she ate for hours that morning. She ate until her belly lay swollen and warm upon her lap, like a weird extension of her that she felt an odd endearment for, wanted to feed, to grow. She hiked up her night shirt and tucked it under her breasts so both she and Suzanne could look at it. Curious, Suzanne touched it, jealous. Her own belly was filled to capacity as well but looked emaciated and silly next to Kelly.

What you do not see is Kelly, a year from now. She has met a couple on the plane. The woman is nearly 500 lbs and recognizes the longing in Kelly's eyes when she sees the woman's corpulent frame. Both the woman and the husband are feeders; he is over 300 lbs. They take Kelly home. Kelly is paid to cook and clean and assist them in every way. She is given a uniform that accentuates her figure: a flowing skirt draping just past the curve of her rear, a halter top that leaves her belly free.

That night, Kelly helps them make love. The wife straddles her husband; Kelly positions their bellies then takes his cock in her hands and spreads the woman's thighs with the other hand, feeding him inside his wife. She strokes the base of his shaft while he enters her then grasps the woman's fattened thighs and spreads them so they flow over his legs as he sinks inside of her, billowing breasts bookend his face.

It's the most erotic experience of her life, she's dizzy with pleasure, doesn't remember much of what happens later but recalls being surrounded by plush bodies, her hands flitting between her own belly and the flowing mound of the woman next to her, a soft, rippling mass that overflows onto Kelly's own stomach and over her thighs. Kelly glimpses this between the mouthfuls of soft flesh that fill her lips: breasts, neck, lips, tongue. The husband's sturdy stomach presses her from the other side, his slick erection sliding between the fold separating her belly and thigh. Hands part her legs and she cums almost instantly.

Within six months, the husband and wife have gained a combined 100 lbs and it is increasingly difficult for Kelly to join them until she discovers a long-lasting lubricant that slides them together ("like we did ten years ago," says the woman). Still, sometimes, because it is easier, the woman asks Kelly to make love to her husband. The woman lying next to her as she puts her arms around both of them, the husband balancing his protruding belly atop Kelly or her mounting him, lifting up his belly so she can access his straining member. Kelly feels small even though she has increased her girth up to 230 lbs. Her old blue jeans don't make it past her knees. Now, she wears a size 20 dress and loose khakis with an elastic waistband that she pulls up over her belly which is expanding steadily toward her knees. The waistband leaves deep creases and red wrinkles in her stomach, but she has refused to buy larger pants. That would open the door to increased weight gain and she still wonders sometimes when it will end.

She continues to gain with ease, a tattoo on her back, a spherical Egyptian symbol, has stretched with her skin -- it's now three times as long as it used to be. But she knows who she is: a happy, fat woman. Excess is the key to her success; she likes to joke. Her size has made her feel stronger, more dominant in a room. Since moving out of Suzanne's place, she has gone back to school and finished her last couple credits and doubled her salary -- along with her waistline.

But there she is, on a Saturday, thumbing through the sale rack at a plus-sized women's store when she looks out the window and sees a familiar face: Suzanne. She is different somehow. She waves at Kelly and that's when she notices the difference -- Suzanne's arm (Kelly stifles a giggle) has a bit of jiggle. Suzanne walks in, they embrace. Six months have passed fast and they haven't seen one another. Nothing is said but everything is understood. In the nine months since that fateful night, Kelly has gained 90 lbs. –- 65 since moving out. Suzanne, a 120 lbs woman on that night, has blossomed into another 50 lbs.

The girls leave and go have lunch, during which Suzanne, tearfully, comes clean. Admits her own desire for size, how she tricked and drugged Kelly into gaining. Kelly is shocked but amused. All is forgiven; they are both happy with the results. Suzanne admits to some jealousy.

And then, they find themselves back at Suzanne's place.

This is where you come in to the story. You are there and you're happy to finally meet Kelly, you've heard so much about her. Suzanne winks at you, catching you checking out Kelly's body. She has dimples of fat on her elbows, a thoroughly round face, you would describe her as a pear were it not for the pendulous breasts that rest atop her belly. Everything on her jiggles and you feel yourself becoming aroused. Last week, you and Suzanne had The Talk where you confessed your desire for larger women and appreciation of the dramatic weight gain she had undergone in the past several months.

Now she believes me, you think.

Out of curiosity, Kelly goes into the bathroom and finds Suzanne's old scale, programs in her height and age and gets her weight and estimated body fat.

"Two-hundred and thirty pounds. 47 percent body fat. Wow. Actually, I would have thought that would be higher."

"Muscle to carry it around, perhaps?" offers Suzanne. Kelly has huge legs, twice as thick as yours, with quadriceps resembling the ropes dockworkers use to tie up ships.

The next moments are a blur in your memory. You don't remember when the packets came out or what was said. All you remember now is the girls laughing, Suzanne closing her eyes, tilting back her head and opening her smiling mouth as Kelly looks at you, winks, and reveals three packets in her hand. She opens two and empties them into Suzanne's waiting mouth.

"Tart," says Suzanne, then: "Oh."

Suzanne's belly, softened and paunchy with slight bulges around the side begins to grow slowly. The three of you walk into the bedroom, Kelly perching on a love seat, Suzanne pulling off your pants and straddling you. Hurry, she says and you enter her. She is slick with desire and you look down and see that her belly now has a noticeable outward curve to it. The two of you place your hands on her belly as your bodies rock together. Her belly is wider than her hips, stretches out past her breasts and rests on your stomach. Her pert, palm-sized breasts are dwarfed by her burgeoning tummy which is outsized, glistening with beads of sweat then with the oil that Kelly begins to massage into the growing skin. She cums in a rush but you stay joined, still aroused, mesmerized by her girth then look at Kelly's rippling form, imagine the two rolls that comprise her belly, the layer of fat padding her back, the deep, sensuous curves arching from under her breasts and around her sides. Suzanne could look like that, you think. Suzanne will look like that.

Dear god, you think, looking back at Suzanne, she is still growing.

Her belly is only inches from your face when she finally stops her growth. She rolls off of you, onto her side, her eyes closed, not in pain but not entirely aware of her surroundings. Aroused? Intoxicated? It's hard to know what to compare it to. She motions you to come closer, you lean an ear to her mouth.

"I'm so...hungry," she says before beginning a series of sighs that slowly relax her stomach.

"Do you have any food?" It's Kelly; she has a hand on your shoulder, whispering. "If my experience taught me anything it's that she's going to need food, and lots of it."

"We're pretty much out...there are some takeout menus next to the phone. Say, listen. How big is she going to get?"

"Oh...pretty big, I'd say. After I took one of those packets, I put on 10 lbs in two days. I guess you could double that. She could pass 200 by the end of the week. And that's being conservative."

This is what you do not know yet: Kelly's estimates are right. Your 170 lbs girlfriend will pass 200 lbs in less than a week. Over the next six months, Kelly will tip the scales at over 280 lbs. Suzanne is gaining on her at 230 and both girls intent on getting fatter than the other. Suzanne's ass is going to get most of the weight, growing into two enormous, gorgeous orbs that she will accentuate with short skirts. You will spend hours just watching her tease you with her walk in your apartment before she allows you to grasp her hips and pull her to you.

But what you do know is that they will not be alone in their growth because as soon as Kelly is finished ordering the food she leads you to the couch, straddles you, your arms suddenly pinned under hers, exploring the folds in her back, telling yourself you should be faithful to Suzanne but instead of a kiss, Kelly greets you with the sound of shredded paper.

"Forgot about the third packet, did you?" she laughs as your mouth opens in surprise and she fills it with white, sparkling crystals. You swallow. The tightness in your stomach begins instantly.

"You don't want to be left out do you? The only one without a beautiful fat belly, hmm?" She laughs and as you nod off, you place your hands on your belly and feel the beginnings of your swelling form.


(Like the story? Email the author at "mang0man2000@yahoo.com")