In My Dreams
I watched from across the aisle. She had a soft round face, heavy lips, and just a hint of a double chin.
Her appetite captured my attention. Bite after bite disappeared into her tummy.
Her large heavy bust, barely contained by a bra that looked a few sizes too small, strained the buttons on what looked to be last year's blouse. The table pressed in just under her bosom and concealed a distended, swelled, watermelon-sized paunch. The tension in her belly threatened to blow her lower buttons. Judging from the remains of her feast, her belly was packed full. Her swelled, distended, and bulging tummy sat on her thighs; her waistband highlighted the separation between her upper and lower belly. Above the band her belly was rock hard and pushed five or six inches beyond her waistband. Her lower belly - round and fat - was barely contained by the fabric and tested the limits of her zipper.
She took a last bite, sighed, sat back, dropped her hand below the table, and tenderly pushed on her fat, letting out an almost inaudible moan. I caught a glimpse of her distended upper belly as her hand fought the tightness beneath her blouse, her fingers pushed into her fat and searched blindly for the waistband. She released the button, her fat tummy expanded; her lower blouse bulged and gapped. Her fingers found and released the lower three buttons of her blouse, revealing her belly. She was soft, fat, swelled, and round. A deep red ring circled her a globe like belly. She looked 12 months pregnant; however, her distended upper belly, deep breaths, and the barely visible layer of sweat indicated she was not with child, but incredibly full.
She noticed me staring and smiled. Then, as she leaned back in the booth, she slid both hands under her massive gut, which she lifted and caressed. She grabbed and kneaded her rolls of belly fat. A subtle groan escaped her lips. With heavy breaths, she massaged her tummy using both hands, while lifting and rubbing. Her lower belly fat quivered; her upper belly was stuffed, bloated, and tight as a drum.
She looked in my direction and smiled; one hand slid over her fat tummy and disappeared between belly and thigh. . .