"Hey babe? Can you come in here?"
I'm standing in the bedroom, struggling to pull up a pair of jeans. I'd bought them in the spring, and I can vividly recall my shock the moment I realized that my pant size had gone up by 10 inches. I remember being amazed (and more than a little turned on) that I was almost a full foot wider around than before I started gaining. Right now, though, I'm not thinking about that β I really just want to get my pants on. My summer wardrobe was a bit more forgiving, but with the weather cooling down, the jeans are really all I have.
"What's up?" Ali says, standing in the doorway.
"I'm having a little trouble with these," I reply. "Can you help me get them on?"
She giggles, clearly enjoying the fact that she's made me too fat for yet another set of clothes. "Aww, looks like someone's been packing on the pounds." At first I'm too exasperated to laugh, but when I look at her, my annoyance instantly fades.
I remember the reason I need help with my jeans: this gorgeous, fat goddess. Her round belly peeks out from the bottom of her shirt and hangs over the waistline of her panties, and her panties seem insufficient to contain her β her soft, pillowy fat threatens to swallow every visible piece of fabric. When we first met, she had about 50 pounds on me, but comparing us now you'd never know it. Her belly jiggles as she laughs, and soon I'm laughing sheepishly too, albeit with more jiggling.
"I'm sorry, but it's just so funny watching you struggle to put those on. Here, I'll help." She comes over, grabs the waist of my jeans, and pulls. Nothing. "Hmm," she frowns. "I think the days of size 44s are over. What about the 46s?" Ah, yes β I forgot that I'd bought a second pair a size up just in case.
I lumber over to the bureau, my flab rippling with each step. "I don't see them," I say as I rifle through the drawers. Behind me, I hear her start to giggle again, and I straighten up and look at her quizzically.
"I found the 46s," she says between giggles. Her arm jiggles as she points a chubby finger in the direction of...yep, the pair of jeans currently stretched to their limit, almost-but-not-quite over my sizable ass. I look down at the tag, and she's right: I've already outgrown my "fat pants." And considering they had spandex in them for additional stretch, I'm not sure a pair of 48s would fit either.
Well then.
A little out of breath from the effort of trying to get my jeans on, I go to sit down on the bed and am immediately greeted with a comically loud tearing sound as my jeans split in the crotch. My belly and moobs spread as I lay back on the bed, defeated. I'm expecting another round of laughter, but it doesn't come; instead, her grin has been replaced with a look of pure lust. The bed creaks as she strides over and straddles me, then leans forward and kisses me passionately, our soft flesh pressing together.
"You've been a very good piggy," she murmurs in my ear, the praise punctuated by her tongue caressing my earlobe. My hands grab hold of her wide ass, and I can feel my dick stirring under the weight of my beautiful feeder. Ali straightens up and looks down at me, and I grind my hips upward, eager as always to watch her soft, round body sliding up and down on my cock. But then, to my disappointment, she stands up and winks at me.
"C'mon. Let's go shopping."
* * *
I'm standing in line, waiting to pay for my upgraded wardrobe. This time, I've decided to plan a little further ahead: I've got multiple pairs of jeans, all with lots of stretch in them, and they range from 50 all the way up to 60 inches. Sixty inches. I never dreamed I would one day need nearly five feet of denim to cover my body, but that's exactly where I'm headed.
"Everything okay, baby?"
Ali's voice snaps me out of my reverie.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah β just thinking about how much I've grown." I look down and see she's holding a shopping bag of her own. "What'd you get?" I ask.
"Oh, just some lingerie, a few odds and ends," she replies airily. Just the thought of her soft, fat body spilling out of some skimpy lingerie is enough to turn me on, and her full lips curl into a playful smirk as she sees my expression. "God, you're such a perv," she giggles.
"Can you blame me?" I reply, leering exaggeratedly at her.
She rolls her eyes and playfully swats me on the arm. I crane my neck, trying to get a peek inside the bag, but she quickly pulls it away. "No peeking." I pay for the new clothes and we head out of the store into the mall; as we walk, she slyly grabs my butt. "I'm surprised how much you've filled out back here," she says as her grip tightens on my ass. "But it can always be a little bigger."
I take her hand in mine. "In that case," I say, "let's head to the food court."