A girl needs a summer job, right? I pounded the pavement downtown for two days. I guess I waited a little too long to start looking because most jobs were filled. I was getting frustrated when I saw a help wanted sign in the window of Caulie’s Bakery. I went in.
The place smelled heavenly. I come from a family that knows how to cook, so cooking interested me. A symphony of delectable aromas stunned my senses. The glass case showcased a plethora of fattening treats. I had been to Caulie’s several times before: cakes for birthdays, pastries for my high school graduation, sandwiches for parties…etc. There was a girl behind the counter. I sort of recognized her. She was a couple of years older than me. Grew up a few blocks away from me. Lisa Caulie. That was her name.
“Hey, Lisa.” She turned toward me. She was a cute girl. That’s what people said about Lisa—because she was plump. Or had been at one time. Since she began working at her folks’ bakery she had…blossomed, shall we say? Still pretty, though. What stood out the most, aside from her pretty and chubby face, was her belly. She had large breasts, true. But her belly had grown quite big in the past few months. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and she had grown.
“Hey, Jessica. What’s up? You need some stuff? What can I get ya?” Her hand absentmindedly rested on her burgeoning belly and caressed.
“Umm…howza bout a job? Still got an opening? I’m looking for summer work and probably part time plus in the fall if it works out.”
“Yeah. We just lost Ginny. She moved out of town. Long shifts, though. The money’s good. Thirteen bucks an hour. I could hook you up cause I know you…”
“Really? That’d be so cool. I’ve been looking around for a while with absolutely no luck…”
“Yeah, I mean, I know you. You’d be a shoo in. Let me just talk to my folks out back.”
She came back in a few moments and the deal was sealed. I met the folks. Very pleasant. Easy to get along with, it seemed. I was to start Monday (It was Saturday). I was pretty happy to find a job. Plus it was good money, really good money for summer work. And I already knew Lisa. Cool beans.
It was Monday. Six A.M. Still groggy. Hadn’t eaten breakfast. Lisa greeted me with a smile at the door. Unlocked it, let me in, turned the key in the lock after I entered.
“Well, here I am!”
“Cool. Well, you’ll need to change into your ‘baker’s attire.’ They’re wicked comfy. All cotton and elastic. One size fits all.”
I changed. The clothes were quite comfy, pajama-like and soft. Nice.
“D’ja eat breakfast, Jessica?”
“No. No time. I never eat breakfast.”
“Well, you get free breakfast around here. And there’s always time to nibble a bit, as you can probably see!” She gave a mischievous grin and patted her belly. “We got these things. First out of the oven today: pastry stuffed with egg, bacon and cheese. These things fly out of the store when we open. Here, try one.”
It was in my hand before I could speak. I wouldn’t have refused, but her insistence was duly noted. I bit into it. Heavenly. The insides still steamed. GOD was it good. “I think I like breakfast, Lisa.”
“Help yourself. That batch came out kinda cock-eyed.” She looked at them askance. “Seriously, help me out. I’ll eat ‘em all if you don’t have some…”
I tried another one. Still good. I was hungry. As we went through procedures and my daily duties, I had a couple more. She had a few, and soon the tray was empty. Absentmindedly snacking while we worked and talked had decimated the tray. She caught me looking at the tray guiltily. “Aw, Jessica. Don’t sweat it girl. You’re too damn skinny anyway. Sheesh!” I laughed and legitimately forgot the whole thing.
The whole day was packed with work. And nibbling. I had never nibbled so much in my life. A bite here. A bite there. Rolls. Cookies. Éclairs. Everything was new to me. Lisa had me try a whole bunch of stuff. She and her folks could cook, man. Good stuff. Funny thing is, I never felt full all day. I was moving around a lot. Lunch time eventually crept around and we split a calzone (her suggestion, and a good one). It was stuffed with ricotta and prosciutto.
“So, you like it here? Not a bad job, right?”
“The day goes so fast! I swear I just got here!”
“Yeah. It’s nice working with someone I know. And like. That’s key.”
The bakery did steady business from 7-11 and then it slowed down—picked up again from 12- 5, which was closing time. By my calculations, I had eaten quite a bit over the course of my first day. Quite a bit. While we were working the counter Lisa brought out a plate of Caulie’s Famous Chocolate Chip Wonders. I had four. Later it was lemon squares. Delicious. I had four (they were smallish). Apple popovers. Three. I was loving this job!
The next day was a cake day. After a quiche breakfast, we had to bake quite a few cakes. Growing up I had been a cake batter fan, and that day was no different. Chocolate, vanilla, mocha… We’d spin our fingers around in the emptied bowls while we worked and talked… We were getting along quite well. Food was our common ground for the time being, and we talked of food and ate quite a bit all day long. Lisa had me try most of the stuff she baked. And I of course had to taste my fledgling creations for quality control. All this fun, food and friendship—and I was making some good bucks. Sometime between breakfast and lunch (it was slow for a while) I went to the case to try a couple of new delectibles…cream puffs, apple squares, cream cheese rounds, jelly rounds. I was in heaven. By the time I had eaten lunch with Lisa (she had suggested two heaping pieces of baked homemade lasagna) I was feeling pretty full. The pants were still loose, but my belly was tight. Perhaps I had overdone it a bit… Over the course of the rest of the day, Lisa kept bringing me out samples of some of her “favorites” to sample. She was so sweet to me, and kind, that I could hardly refuse. It seemed like the more I ate the sooner I got hungry. Funny how that happens!
Day to day was a similar process. I found my favorites (the quiche Lorraine, éclairs and apple popovers) and Lisa kept my palate fascinated with new and delicious treats. I couldn’t refuse when I saw her fervent interest in my pleasure and opinion. She was proud of her work. How could I disappoint her?
The days flew by. Lisa and I started hanging out after work. We’d go to movies, the mall, to the city, night clubs…. Sometimes I’d go along with her and her boyfriend. They’d been together for three years. He was a really sweet guy, very nice to Lisa and me. We invariably, on weekend nights, ended up at a Denny’s for a midnight (or later) snack. I really regretted the fact that Lisa and I had not become closer sooner. But we were friends now.
Work was hard, but fun. I couldn’t even imagine a better job. Then things started to change for me after a few weeks at Caulie’s….
My parents started to get on my case about my weight. I admit I have never been a slim girl. After my freshman year at college (which was when I got the job at Caulie’s) I weighed around 142 (up from 135 in September). My weight fluctuated depending on the season. But ever since I started work, it had done nothing but go up. Did it bother me? Honestly, no. I was happy. Having a good time. I had a great new friend who liked to spoil me and see me happy. Big deal. Plus, the food was fantastic, and we had a blast eating together. Lisa really liked to see me satiated—and more. A lot of people spent good money at Caulie’s because the food was so good. I got to be associated with their semi-famous name (they were local celebrities), I made good money and ate there for free. How could I complain? I was happy. Gaining weight, yes, but happy. I hadn’t been on a scale in some time or taken a good look at myself in the mirror in full light, so I didn’t even know where I was at, how much I had…umm…blossomed.
I knew that my breasts had grown a bit because they were overspilling my C cups. Most of my jeans, admittedly, did not fit any more. When I wore my blouses, there was a noticeable gap between my buttons. After having a good old-fashioned blow out with my mom one night at dinner about my weight, I went up to my room to visually assess my growth—maybe even get on my scale…
I locked my door. I didn’t want to be bothered or caught in my naked state. I peeled off my elastic-banded black cotton pants and pulled my bulky sweatshirt over my head. I took a deep breath and stepped in front of my full-length mirror, naked. What I saw was a bit of a shock, to be honest with you. My new belly was the focal point, I must admit. I had what I call the “Liberty Bell Belly.” It started to round out between my newly more ample breasts, rounded out further and further toward my newly deeper belly button. It hung pendulously downward, milky white and soft. The “Liberty Bell Effect” was truly affected by the burgeoning “love handles” that swelled outward above my hips. Wow. My new breasts hung heavily downward and outward, pushed aside by the belly. My arms had fattened up considerably. My thighs met (which was new for me!). My thighs and ass had really changed quite a bit. My face had plumpened up, and I had a cherubic double chin. (Wow. Quick work!)
Disbelief coursed through me, and I simply had to touch my plump ass to confirm that it was mine, real. I reached back and turned by body for a better look in the mirror. It was my ass, all right. It was soft, plump and warm. Still firm. Perhaps that was a byproduct of the rapid gain I had undergone. I rubbed it with both hands, gingerly, then reversed my hands carefully (daringly), pointed my fingers toward my rotund front and coursed my fingers forward—over the soft love handles, forward—across the front of my chubby rippling belly, left hand above my right. Back again, slowly. Forward. Softly, slowly. Caressing. I was fascinated, woozy. In my head I sang a song: Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my! Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my! Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my!
In a semi-trance, I slowly and deliberately made my way over to my scale. I took a deep breath and stepped on, one foot at a time. The needle shot way up to 380, down past 150, to 340, to 165—and slowly settled on…198. How? What? Let’s see, eight and a half weeks at Caulie’s, 56 pounds…about seven pounds a week? Impossible. Simply impossible…
A knock at my door startled me out of my reverie…
“Jess? Sweetie? It’s Tom. Why’s the door locked, hon?”
Holy shit. I didn’t even hear his step coming down the hallway. I had totally forgotten about Tom coming home this weekend. Tom was my boyfriend. He had been teaching English in Japan and had come home. We had argued quite a bit about his leaving for so long, but he said it was a career decision (he wanted to be a full-time teacher) and we had separated on somewhat cool terms. Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my! Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my!
I threw my robe on very quickly. What would he say? What could I say? Oh, well. Guess I’d find out. I unlocked the door, Tom breezed in—and stopped. He couldn’t even attempt to hide his surprise.
“You’ve grown! Jesus, Jess. You’re mom warned me…but I wasn’t expecting…God…” He looked me up and down. Shame swelled in me. How could he do this to me? My mom had discussed it with him? I was disgusted with Tom—and my mom.
“You working at Caulie’s with that girl, um, Lisa? What are they feeding you, Jess? Do you EAT all friggin’ day? Holy hell! You ballooned!”
“Tom…how could you…?” I wanted to run away. Get out somehow. “You know what? I suspected you were selfish when you ran off to Japan against my will, but Now? How could you talk to me like this? What are you, perfect? You are no blue ribbon prize yourself, kid!” I was dazed, hurt, angry, confused. I wanted to hurt him in any way I could.
“Jess, I’m just concerned…”
“What? To be seen with me? Guess what? Don’t worry about that. Get the fuck out you insensitive prick. I’m done with you.”
I shoved him toward the door, roughly. Then through. I hastily got dressed in sweats. Called Lisa. She agreed to meet me at the bakery (she had an apartment above the shop). I bolted down the stairs. Tom and my mom were speaking in hushed tones on the living room couch. They feebly called to me as I slammed the front door behind me. I drove in a tear-streaked fury. How could he? How could he? How could he?
As I got closer to the shop, I calmed down a little. Lisa was so calm and comforting on the phone. My only solace. She asked no questions, just said she’d be there for me. A true friend. I parked the car and walked, like the wounded, up to the door. There was one small light lit. I could see her silhouette in the darkness waiting for me. Concern and worry were apparent in her stance.
Tears were freshly coursing down my face a few moments later. “…and then I left… It was unbearable, Lisa. I cried so hard.”
“That bastard. You don’t need him. I thought you said you two were on the outs anyway?”
“Yeah…but it still hurts.”
“You know what? I can fix you up with a guy I know. Friend of my boyfriend. Really sweet guy—and he appreciates, shall we say, a womanly figure?”
I chuckled, sniffed. Lisa stood up. Hugged me. My tears were hot against her shoulder. She rubbed my back. I was silently sobbing, collapsed against her, weak in her embrace. She hummed a non-song in my ear—very motherly, very comforting. I was at peace again. “What would I do without you, Lisa?”
I was suddenly aware of her fat belly pressed against mine. We couldn’t really hug without contact in the most prominent regions of our bodies, and they were pressed pretty tightly together so we could get our arms around each other. Strangely, an unexpected and electric thrill surged through my body. My vision clouded momentarily. I moved ever so slightly from side to side, gently, to see if the feeling returned. Our plump bellies moved in unison, with a slightly perceptible slide from side to side. What happened is, the feeling intensified…
I tried to speak, but my words were silenced by Lisa: “Shhh…”
Her hands caressed my back, and moved slowly around to my plump love handles. Small hand circles caressed my new fat. I froze. My spine tingled. My mouth went dry. I caught my breath. Her hands caressed gently, tenderly, lovingly. My heart raced…. My clouded mind reeled. Between my legs began to throb. My hands began to tentatively grasp her more ample love handles, her hips. She looked at me with half-hung lids. My mouth opened…
“Shh…” she cooed. We moved gingerly apart as she delicately took my hands and moved them to her fat fat belly. She moved them around in slow, lazy circles all around her tummy. Her lids closed completely, her head rolled back. My hands began to move on their own, rubbing, caressing…then grabbing and kneading. I had felt nothing like this before. Pleasure so intense it was hard to bear. But I kept it up. She backed up slowly, toward the counter. She grabbed my hands and carried me along with her, gently, coaxingly.
I followed, stunned, fascinated, in spins of near ecstasy. She moved cautiously, slowly around the refrigerated case to the back, looking at me, lids half closed again. The dim light splashed itself faintly over all of the sinful treats in the case. Lisa sat down gingerly on the floor, her big, beautiful belly spread out on her chubby-thighed lap. She kept one of my hands on her impressive belly and slid open the door to the case. She pulled out a tray of frosted chocolate cupcakes (one of her favorites…). She opened her mouth longingly. I obeyed: I peeled the wrapper off and held it close to her mouth; she bit and chewed. I did this two more times and the cupcake was gone. NOW I was in ecstasy. She swallowed the rest of the cupcake and opened her mouth again. Bite chew bite chew bite chew—greedily. And all the while I rubbed her belly. It was all so sensual. My head spun in crazy circles as she ate and ate and ate…
After a while I stopped and sat on the floor and opened my mouth. Her eyes widened, she flashed a Cheshire grin, and selected a tray of sweet chocolate éclairs. Oh god oh god oh god… Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my! Pastries, and cookies and pies—Oh, my! I greedily took the small éclairs one by one out of her chocolate smeared hand. I couldn’t eat fast enough, fill my belly fast enough. She caressed my belly. I licked the chocolate off her fingers lovingly. Next was a tray of popovers—we split it down the middle—each of us stuffing the other’s face over and over again. I kneaded her belly, she mine. It was an absolute ecstasy of indulgence. Next came cream puffs… We let loose. Caressed. Grabbed. Moaned. Giggled. And ate and ate and ate… Until we were beyond full.
She massaged my belly and I massaged my groin. It wasn’t long before I reached a hugely gratifying climax while swallowing a mouthful of sweets. Then I groped for her and she did the same. I nearly exploded with pleasure again when she came. My legs were weak. I was out of breath. Stuffed. I panted. Smiled. She kissed me. I kissed her back, hard, on the mouth. Her lips tasted sweet. We indulged each other in a passionate kissing session. Smiles of understanding were all that we shared as we made our way up to her place, her bed. We held each other through the night.
It was just a few days later that I moved in with Lisa. We got along great. I needed to get out of my house. I was twenty and ready to get the hell out on my own. I sent Tom a letter. Told him I never wanted to see him again, and I didn’t, either. Lisa introduced me to Steve, her boyfriend’s friend. He was really nice. We’ve been going out for a while now.
Steve and Lisa have done a lot to keep me satisfied, in lots of ways. The four of us (Lisa’s boyfriend included) go out a lot. We have a blast.
It’s November now, and frankly, my “baker’s attire” is starting to cut into my belly at work… Strange, huh? Lisa and I have duplicated our wild act of passion a few times since that night. It’s absolutely incredible every time. Oh, by the way, I got fatter. Yup, it was inevitable I suppose. I’m a growing girl. Steve and Lisa make sure I am. Keep me happy. And I keep Lisa happy. With my friendly (and sometimes passionate) help, Lisa has grown quite a bit. She had to order new baker’s garb already—and those are getting tight too! She confessed to me the other day that she was around 237 when we started working together and now she’s 310+ (she won’t give me the exacts; besides, it changes almost every day!).
Me? I’m a big girl now. A very big girl. And Stevie loves all of me. And making love is…oh-so-good. Especially when there’s pastry involved. I guess we’re one big happy family. Anyway, thanks for listening. Maybe I’ll see you down the shop some time? G-bye…