Chapter 10


Andy and I were getting ready to leave the Red room after a huge meal that -- for me -- included a healthy taste of Andy himself. My belly was swollen to impossible proportions with appetizer, soup, salad, pasta, entrees and desserts; I had to keep pulling my shirt down because it kept riding up and exposing the bloated pink flesh of my stomach. Zake -- chef extraordinaire -- and Mara -- his wife, who also seemed to have a little extracurricular interest in me -- came out of the kitchen to see us off. Zake was beaming with all of his 400 pounds. "You ate it all? Every last bit? Mara -- you threw some of it away, right?" "Not a drop," I said, patting my stomach. "It's all right here." He came over and hugged me then, and I was engulfed in his enormity, my swollen gut dwarfed by his vastness. "You make sure to bring her back here, Andy!" he said. "This is the first --well, second -- woman you've found who appreciates food!" Mara hugged me, too, her hand straying to give my chubby ass a squeeze, saying, "We should get together sometime -- get to know each other a little better. I'm off on Tuesdays, so give me a call, okay?" I nodded, unsure what I'd do about that invitation.

We walked out of the private room into the main dining room. I was surprised to see that it was almost empty. "Where'd everyone go?" I asked Andy. "It's after 11:00," he said. "Most of them are gone home or to party --" He led me over to one of the only occupied tables. "Let me introduce you to someone," he said. When we reached the table, I realized that it was the table of Victoria Sartor, the movie star I'd seen when we were coming in. I knew her from her roles as a child star in "Championship Velvet", as a young screen sex goddess opposite one of her ex-husbands in "Queen of the Nile", as a fat former alcoholic in real life and on screen, as a tireless crusader for AIDS research. Her violet eyes were known all over the world, and for most of the world, just mention "Vix" -- no last name necessary -- and their thoughts would be of glamour and Hollywood.

Andy bent over behind her and kissed her on the cheek, surprising her. "Andy! How have you been? I haven't seen you since... Well, we don't have to talk about that, do we?" Andy smiled graciously, "Talk about what?" he asked. "You are as beautiful as ever," she replied. "And who is this gorgeous young woman?" I tried in vain to suck in my belly as Andy's gentle pressure steered me forward a step, and Vix took my hand. "Melanie Bell," he said, "a very special friend of mine, meet Vix Sartor, Hollywood legend and another special friend." She swatted him playfully, saying, "Legends are old --" she struck a pose, hand under her chin -- "'I'm ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille!'" She laughed at her joke and said, "And old is not how I feel -- not anymore! It's a pleasure to meet you Melanie." She introduced me to the other three people at the table -- two older men and an ancient woman whose names I knew from mentions about charity functions and society balls.

"Would you like to join us?" she asked. "Have you eaten?" My hand instinctively held my belly, and Vix's eyes followed my hand; she smiled knowingly and said, "No, it's so late -- you must've eaten. Well, we just ordered dessert and coffee, but before it comes, I must visit the ladies room." She looked at me and said, "Would you be a dear, and accompany me -- I hate using the cane, and I've eaten so much, I'm afraid I'll just topple over forwards!" She put her arm in mine and she chattered on while we walked to the bathroom as if we were old friends instead of acquaintances of less than a minute. She told me how much more she liked Andy's hair when it was long, and how she thought the colors in my skirt were very complementary to my eyes.

When we got inside the ladies' room, she got into the stall, and I checked myself out in the mirror. My hair was somewhat disheveled -- but in a way that I thought looked somewhat alluring. Vix was only in the stall for a second before she asked me to give her a hand. When I opened the stall door, she was still standing up, but her dress was off and hanging on the hook. The skin on her bare arms and legs was surprisingly unwrinkled , but very pale, made even more so by the unexpected black, low-cut bra which supported her overly plump boobs. She was wearing a long-line girdle and that was what she needed my help with. "The arthritis -- I can't grip," she said. "Do yourself a favor -- don't get old! And do me a favor by helping me get this damned torture device off my body!"

I grabbed the edges of the girdle which was pulled up to within an inch of her bra and started to pull it down. It was extremely tight, straining the sturdy stitches, and as I dragged it downwards, rolls of blubber mushroomed over the top. When I had it down around her ankles, Vix leaned on my shoulder and stepped out of the garment entirely. Her belly was enormous and white, crisscrossed with a complex network of bright red stretchmarks. She ran her hands over the immense surface, rubbing it and lifting it's bloated weight, revealing that she was wearing a pair of black lace bikini panties -- almost completely hidden by the massive stomach.

She let out a huge sigh; "Thanks," she said. "I don't know why I bother with that thing. It's not like I can really hide all this fat -- especially not when I'm eating like this. I think I ate Zake's uncle's entire prize lamb tonight!" I laughed and said, "No, you couldn't have eaten the whole thing. I did a lot of damage to the poor beast myself!" I patted my swollen belly proudly. Vix laughed, too, and I couldn't take my eyes off the interplay of ripples in her soft flesh caused by her hearty laugh. "So," she said, "Andy's found another woman to fatten up! I'm so glad! After me -- he was miserable with that little Kate Lichen. He actually thought he could fatten that little waif. She could eat -- sure -- but she'd throw everything up as soon as it went down. I felt horrid for dumping him, but..."

I stepped out of the stall and she plopped down. "You and Andy..." I asked. "Oh," she said, "you didn't know. Well... I guess we did keep it somewhat quiet. It's been a while... I forget...." I leaned my butt on the counter and talked to the stall door. "Why did you dump him?" I asked. "It was like with my husbands... It seemed the right thing to do at the time. We'd met right after I broke my hip; he came to my house with one of the AIDS group reps, saying that he'd like to set up a program to donate a portion of his clothing line revenues to our organization. We looked at each other and it was like someone opened a romantic circuit -- like we'd known each other forever. He came back again and again, bringing me gifts, cooking for me, bringing Zake in to cook me huge feasts, pampering me. I was gaining weight and enjoying it for the first time in my life -- I felt beautiful and young and sexy when he was around. And then... I got the news that my hips were gone -- old and rotten -- and they'd need to be replaced. I got terribly depressed -- mortality catching up, the way it did with my friends Stone Huron and Winston Fortune. I got into a rage one night -- drunk -- and kicked him out. Told him that he was sick -- fucking his fat grandmother -- and that I didn't ever want to see him again.

"I was too proud to call him -- too proud and too drunk. I went into the rehab and then the hospital for the left hip. I've thought of calling him since I got out, but I figured he didn't want to hear from me." She flushed the toilet and came out of the stall, stuffing the girdle into her pocketbook. The button-down front of her dress was straining to contain the rolls of flesh beneath. "I lost 40 pounds between the hospital and the rehab, and since I've been out, I've put it back on, plus another 20. But its different now -- I've enjoyed every bite and every new bulge and I think of Andy every day. I wrote that diet book years ago and pretended I liked myself, but... He's why I really like myself for the first time in my life!" She looked me over in the mirror as she washed her hands. "You take good care of him," she said, then laughed and said -- half-seriously, I think -- "or I'll have to take him back from you!" She put her arm around my shoulder, patted me, smiled and said "Now, I must have some dessert!" as we walked back to the dining room.

Andy stood up when we walked in, and we quickly said our good-byes, then left, after Vix told Andy that he had to visit her in California after her operation next month. "And make sure to bring Melanie, too!" she said, winking at me. When we got outside, the photographers were still there, flashing away; the car was brought around quickly, and we made our getaway. My belly was still swollen and as I rubbed it, I laughed out loud. "My belly must be so huge! I can see the headlines in the tabloids," I said. "They're going to have a before picture and an after picture of us at the restaurant with close-ups of my bulging belly, saying, 'Andy Sansome gets mystery girl pregnant in restaurant!'" Andy laughed, too, saying, "And then they'll report that you're bearing my space alien love child! How else could you get pregnant so fast?"

We drove for a long time -- I didn't know where he was driving and I didn't really care. His hand found it's way under the overlapping material of my skirt and began stroking my pudgy thigh. I felt his fingers sinking into the soft, puffy flesh, brushing my pussy through my panties. The tie on my skirt was too constricting, so I undid it, unwrapping my gorged belly to his probing hands. He took the opportunity to stroke my blubber-covered mound of inflated flesh, massaging and caressing my stomach, his hand slipping beneath the tight waistband of my panties to tangle itself in the soft hair. His finger found my clitoris and the wet opening of my vagina, sending an electric current all through my body. I had goosebumps all over my arms and my neck and I was sure my nipples were so hard they'd be bursting through my blouse. I lifted my hips, pressing myself harder against his fingers, and he pressed back, making me writhe and wriggle. He drove very quickly and I felt the road in my pussy, every bump and curve transmitted directly to my groin; I was sweating and moaning and breathing heavily, when the car suddenly came to a stop.

His hand left my crotch and joined his other hand, tracing their way up my sides, over my waist, under my back. He lifted me close to him and kissed me, long and deep, for what seemed like hours. Then he whispered in my ear: "Let's go inside." I was entranced and hypnotized. My eyes were still closed as he got out and then opened the door on my side. He helped me out of the car, then grabbed the skirt from where I'd left it on the seat. As I stood, nearly naked on his driveway, I could feel nothing but the weight of my belly -- it's absolute fullness -- and the fire in-between my legs. Andy put his arm around my naked waist and led me inside, with my eyes still closed.

A moment later, he was laying me down on a huge soft bed and taking off my shoes; a moment after that, he was naked next to me, kissing me, and then gently lifting my shirt over my head. I was passive and limp, letting him do all the work. His hands massaged my breasts through my bra, gently squeezing and kneading them, then he reached around my back and unhooked the straps, setting my blubbery boobs free. His mouth instantly found a nipple, licking and sucking and gently nibbling, then moving to the other one so neither got jealous; waves of heat emanated from his tongue and made their way through my spine and down to my pussy. We were on our sides, his bare, hairless chest pressing against the taut skin of my bloated belly. His hands peeled my panties down my thighs and then grabbed my chubby butt, pressing us closer together. His thigh was between my legs and I rubbed my wet vagina against the smooth, hard muscled leg.

It seemed like his hands and his mouth never lost contact with my body, so I don't know where he got it from or how he put it on, but I could feel his condom-ed cock against my thigh, and all I could think about was how much fuller and fatter I'd feel with him inside of me. My pussy was as hungry as my mouth had been earlier. My voice came out rough and breathy -- it seemed like years since I'd last spoken. "Please," I said. "I want you in me..." His mouth left my breast and our hands and legs slid over one another as we rearranged ourselves.

Time had disappeared and I found myself on the bed on hands and knees, with the tip of his cock gently brushing against the wetness of my vagina. His hands explored every inch of my widened ass, and I rocked slowly backwards, feeling the head of his cock stretching my pussy open ever so slightly. I felt his fingers moving slowly up my sides, then down around my belly, swollen and hanging nearly down to the bed. He lifted the weight of it and let it drop, simultaneously pressing his burning hot cock slightly deeper inside me. I thrust my hips back violently, but he moved backwards too, whispering, "Slowly, slowly," and moving his hands to my dangling breasts.

I moaned as his fingers rubbed over my nipples, the muscles in my arms and my thighs started quivering and weakening, and his thick cock opened me up even wider, then slowly wider and wider and deeper and deeper, until his pelvis was pressed hard against my cushioned ass. There was a roaring in my ears as he pulled out and then thrust in, again and again; each time I could feel the layer of fat on my butt rippling and shaking as he made contact. I imagined that my ass was huge -- as fat as Genice's -- and how it would shake and wobble and nearly engulf him. With each thrust, I could feel my belly and my boobs swinging free, and I imagined that my belly was Vix's belly, so fat and full that it rested on the bed and pressed against the tops of my thighs and the bottoms of my breasts. Then, his finger made its way to my clitoris and the heat of his cock became a raging fire that raced through the core of my being, transforming into an escalating scream of pure pleasure, intensifying, rolling like waves of flame again and again and again, until my arms gave out and my thighs gave out and I toppled over on my side. Andy was next to me, spent, too, his softening cock still just inside me.

Sometime later, I was roused to consciousness by Andy stiffening inside me and his hands stroking my belly and his face in my hair. We made love again and then again sometime after that. Then, the next time I awoke, the sun was shining through the blinds. I could feel the warmth of his body sitting on the edge of the bed behind me, his chin resting on my plump upper arm; he smelled clean and sunny. "Are you awake?" he asked. I rolled over in response and kissed him; his free hand brushed my neck and my back and my butt, and my hand reciprocated, appreciating the soft skin and firm muscles and the slightly yielding flesh of his ass. My tongue explored his mouth and his perfect white teeth, and then I nibbled on his pouty lower lip. He laughed and said, "You must be hungry if you're trying to make a meal of me. I'll cook you breakfast instead."

He stood up and I stared at his honey-colored all-over tan, at the broad "V" of his chest and shoulders, at the strength and smoothness of his thighs, at his thick penis -- and at the barest hint of a little belly where I had expected a washboard! I scrambled to my knees, crawled over to the edge of the bed and ran my hand over his tiny tummy. "What's this?" I asked. He laughed, then asked, "Why? Do you like it?" I pinched gently, then said, "Too small!" I patted my stomach, which had shrunk a little overnight, then said, "Now, THIS is a belly!" "Yes, it is," he said, "and quite a beautiful belly. And probably famished, too. So... why don't you get washed up and I'll meet you in the kitchen." He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead, then put on his robe and headed for the kitchen.

I showered, imagining that it was his hands soaping me all over, put on one of his robes, gathered up my clothes which were scattered about the sparsely decorated room and followed my nose to the kitchen. His house was furnished and decorated in an ultra-modern spartan style: solid-colored rugs over oak floors, light wood and natural fiber couch and chairs, abstract paintings in muted tones, windows and skylights everywhere. The kitchen was stainless steel and more wood, huge and open, with a screen wall looking out over a deck to the beach. I sat down at the ceramic-tiled table watching him as he finished cooking, and realizing that I really was hungry!

He finished cooking a moment later and, carrying two plates laden with stack of pancakes, piles of eggs and bacon and hash browns and toast, he told me to open the screen door to the deck. The breeze was salty and the table was set as I walked into a fairytale morning.