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Backfired - by Snr6424 (~BBW(mult), Feeding, Lesbian sex, MWG)

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Britt Reid

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~BBW(mult), Feeding, Lesbian sex, MWG – Jenna finally has a chance to live out her fantasy with a hot former classmate...but the ending surprises her

Backfired
by snr6424
(reposted by permission from Fantasy Feeder)

Chapter One - Jenna's Project

I walked into Big Tom's Electronic Superstore with a sigh. The thought of doing retail sales for an entire year while saving up for college was something of a nightmare. Not that the job was difficult, but the days tended to be quite dull. The few highlights were the rare chance to help a hottie find something. That's when I put on my big smiley face and charmed the pants of them. Or so I wished.

Ok, I should back up a bit. My name is Jenna. I'm 18, just recently graduated from James Hallinsworth High School. I've worked here at Big Tom's the last two summers. Since I need to save up some money for college and they were willing I decided to take a year and just work full-time. So that's the whole boring story.

Oh, what do I look like?

Haha, what a typical question. Well, I have a rather dusky skin, thanks to some Italian and Brazilian blood in my family tree. I stand 5'3", weighing about 115 pounds. I have bright green eyes, probably my favorite feature. My hair is jet black and straight, cut just below my shoulders. I work hard to stay looking good, which means a reasonable diet and lots of exercising. My breasts are a nice C-cup. They're perky and look even a little bigger than they are because of my slight frame.

My hips were always a little wider than I'd like, but it's just the way I'm built, it's not like I'm carrying any extra weight there. I work to make sure my waist is nice and trim, my belly nice and flat. My best physical feature is my tight ass, perky and bubbly. When I wear a pair of really tight pants you can practically hear guys' jaws hitting the floor as I walk past. Ok, maybe I'm a little vain. But I have a right to be.

Unfortunately for all those lusting guys, I swing the other way. During high school I had a couple "unofficial" girlfriends. They weren't really lesbians, just "experimenting". That was ok with me, their lips were still kissable and their warm soft bodies still felt so good next to mine. Oh, and if being lesbian wasn't enough, I also have a thing for fat chicks. There, I said it. I like fat chicks.

My greatest conquest during my senior year was little Sally Fletcher. Well, she was little when she was a freshman, only like 5'0" and 100 pounds. Over the four years of high school she didn't get any taller, but I had a blast watching her blossom. Her breasts grew to DD's while her rump stuck out farther and farther behind her. The most wonderful transformation was the inflation of her flat stomach into a big, round ball of fat. When we made out I loved to knead and massage her bountiful gut, reaching underneath to unbutton her pants so it could all just hang out.

*Sigh*

And now she's gone, taking her roly-poly self off to school several states away. I'm currently single, and looking for a new project. I think instead of just dating a fat girl I'd like to see a slim, hot girl just blimp up as I stuffed thousands of calories into her growing gut. Ooh, that sounds so hot.

So, all that just to say that I was starting up again at Big Tom's. And . . .

Oh, what do we have here? Could that really be Heather Morris? And wearing a Big Tom's uniform?! I must go investigate.

"Hey Heather," I greeted her as I walked up. "Watcha doin' here?"

"Hey Jenna," she smiled.

“Ohmygosh, what a gorgeous smile, .” I noted

"I just got a job here. My folks are kinda pissed, but I'm just not sure I want to do college yet. Know what I mean?" Hearther explained.

"Oh yeah," I replied, trying not to be too obvious while I checked her out. "I'm doing the same thing. Has anyone given you the tour yet?"

"Um, not really. Jimmy said he'd show me around, but he had to go do something."

"Well just come with me," I gave her my brightest smile. "I'll show you everything."

I took her around the store, so excited to be around the most beautiful girl from high school. We had talked before, usually at some party we both attended, but for the most part we moved in different circles. She had a few boyfriends during high school, but never anything too serious. I knew if there was a way to sway her to our team, I'd find out.

Standing a few inches taller than me, probably 5'6" or 5'7", she probably only weighed 120 or 125. In school she had played soccer, tennis and lacrosse at various times. She was athletic enough to be good at just about anything, but never seemed all that passionate about sports. Her breasts were pressing nicely against the red short-sleeved shirt that was part of our uniform.

She may have been slightly less blessed in that area than I was, but that didn't bother me. I knew they'd grow if she gained weight. Her natural shape was a little narrower than mine, making her look very streamlined with gently rounded hips, a slim waist, and long legs. I may be a chubby chaser, but I was growing wet just looking at this girl.

And that's when I knew who my project would be.

My plans solidified as Heather kept chatting while we walked around.

"Yeah, y'know, I'm just kinda ready to let loose," she rambled on. "I worked so hard to get good grades and was on all those clubs and sports teams. And my parents were always like 'Do more! Do more!' Now I just want to relax. Work 40 hours here, having a lot of fun on the weekends, stop spending like three hours a day in the gym. Y'know, just let go a little."

I nodded my head emphatically, communicating how intensely I agreed with her. The pieces couldn't be falling into place any better than they were.

Heather was a bright girl and, let's face it, the job at Big Tom’s isn't that tough. In no time at all she had the basics down. Fortunately we both worked the day shift, which was pretty quiet. That was nice, since it gave us ample opportunity to chat. After just a few weeks I felt like we were becoming fast friends. Of course, I wanted more, but she didn't know that yet.

The other part of my plan was also in full swing. One of the first things I showed Heather was when to check all the candy we kept by the registers. Of course, you couldn't sell past-date candy, so we got to eat it ourselves. She became the unofficial "candy checker", and I'm pretty sure she was eating a bar or two each time she found a box too old to sell.

We also started eating lunch together. At first she always brought it in with her, but I convinced her it was much more fun to visit one of the many eateries within walking distance. We ate pizza, subs, Chinese, and even made a few trips to a buffet. My own intake was increasing, but I countered that by simply upping my gym time.

I also came upon the brilliant idea of keeping a candy jar in the break room. Not to mention the fresh baked cookies and brownies I started bringing in for my coworkers. Through trial and error I learned Heather's favorites, and made sure they were readily available to her. Plus, this really made me popular with the other workers. Free candy and homemade goodies are certainly nothing to sneeze at.

"Hey Jenna," Heather mumbled through a large bite of Baby Ruth.

I fought back a leer. "Hey Heather, find some more past-date candy?"

"Yup!" Heather paused to swallow. "Fortunately they still taste good! Or, maybe unfortunately."

"Why unfortunately?" I asked. "How can good-tasting free candy be a bad thing?"

"Well, when one stops spending their entire evening in the gym, and one starts eating junk she never ate before, one comes to find that one's jeans don't, um, button up so well."

Heather tried for a rather sardonic aloofness, but her face was turning slightly pink. I felt a familiar tingling and tightening sensation in my lower stomach, one that usually came when I espied an especially delicious chubby chick. It was almost too good to believe that there were already noticeable results. The challenge now was to make sure she didn't freak out and try to lose it.

"Oh please, you're a stick," I scoffed. "I mean, you're practically swimming in that shirt."

"Not for long, at this rate," she replied. "And see what I mean?"

She grabbed the back of her polo shirt and pulled it so that it clung tightly to her body. I honestly couldn't see much of a difference, other than possibly the slightest convex curve just above her belt.

"What I am looking at?" I asked. "You're the most absolutely ridiculous person I know if you think you can call that getting fat. For lunch today we're going to Eddy's and we're gonna eat the 3/4 pound burger with fries and milkshakes. And I don't want to hear another word about it. You're relaxing this summer, remember?"

"Hehe, you're such a good friend," Heather giggled. "And maybe we can get dessert with lunch."

"It's a date," I grinned.

As the summer passed I started spending even more time with Heather outside of work. Slowly she started hanging out with my group of friends, and I started hanging out with her clique. There were parties galore, BBQ's in backyards and get-togethers at the beach. Food was often involved, and alcohol always was. Heather was a very happy-go-lucky drunk, and very affectionate as well. I always felt a twinge of jealousy when I saw her with some guy's tongue down her throat, but I reminded myself I was in this for the long haul.

Possibly the best part of summer hang-outs was the dress code. Heather frequently wore a bikini, occasionally with shorts. This meant easy viewing for me as the months went by. Not only did I watch her become quite tan from all the sun exposure, I also saw the fruit from all that candy-buying and baking I did. It was gradual, but at the end of the summer there could be no doubt.

Heather Morris was gaining weight.

Her entire body seemed just a touch softer, in part due to her lack of time exercising. She still worked out, and certainly wasn't flabby or lazy, but the difference was undeniable. Her newly indulgent lifestyle was causing her to ripen before my very eyes, she seemed to becoming sleeker and more lush by the day. Early in the summer I saw her in a very small green bikini and understood why she could have any guy she wanted. Her legs were long and lean, her ass tight but definitely not flat, her flat abs had a hint of a six pack, and her perky breasts were the stuff of wet dreams.

In late August I was rather shocked when Heather pulled out that green bikini again. I had thought it had been retired since July. My mouth went dry as I drank in her softening form. Her lower body seemed to be coated with a slight layer of cushioning. Her thighs and calves still looked rather slim, in part because they were so long. Her hips maybe spread an extra inch, but my eagle eye caught the way the string of her bikini bottom dug in to tan flesh, causing just the tiniest hint of a love handle to spill out above.

The triangle of fabric that covered about 80% of her magnificent rear at the beginning of the summer was now covering just 60% or so. I licked my lips as I gazed at the warm tan flesh of her round buttocks that spilled from its confines. I wanted nothing more than to take a big bite of that juicy ass.

And that tiny little paunch that she was freaking out about? Well, maybe she was starting to be right after all. That hint of a six pack was nowhere to be found. Her lower stomach now pooched out just slightly, looking ripe and fertile. I could tell by her posture that she was sucking in her stomach, I bit my lip as I imagined her stomach muscles relaxing, her belly swelling out into a nice, round pot.

Yeah, I wanted her … bad.

The biggest change was undoubtedly her expanding bustline. If her breasts were impressive before, they were flat out amazing now. She still had to be just shy of a D, but remained just as perfectly perky as ever. The lack of fabric in this particular bathing suit only highlighted her growth. Sweet, succulent breast flesh poured out over the cup, and even peeked out the sides.

Later that day we played volleyball. I barely avoided making several stupid mistakes, as I was unabashedly captivated by Heather's jiggling form as she sprinted to and fro. I wasn't the only one staring at her breasts as they bounced up and down, I'm pretty sure a few guys were watching the game for that sole purpose. Unlike them, however, I received just as much of a thrill from watching her golden ass cheeks wobble slightly. Once or twice in between serves Heather stood with her hands on her hips, visibly trying to catch her breath. During these moments she plainly forgot about sucking in her stomach, and I was treated to the sight of an inch or two of pudge hanging just over her bikini bottoms.

The summer days blurred together, Heather's gradually expanding body was a fantasy come true. I was sad as the weather gradually cooled, but still elated when Heather admitted to me that she needed a brand new fall wardrobe. Apparently, those wonderfully snug jeans now had trouble sliding over her rounder rear, or fastening across her bulging tummy. There were still parties every weekend, but fewer people because a number of folk had moved off to college.

Heather was still happily munching and drinking away, either in denial or acceptance of her added pounds. I just wasn't sure which . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party was winding down. I had built up a decent buzz, but kept it under control. Heather was getting quite tipsy, and I was happy to see her constantly grazing on the various goodies that were scattered about.

"Jenna girl!" she shouted, wobbling toward me.

I chuckled, watching her approach. Her jeans were truly painted on, revealing thighs and hips that were just shy of being chubby. Her bubble butt had to be straining the seams, it moved as if it had a mind of its own. Her tight black sweater was no longer up to the task of covering her swelling pot belly, a thin strip of pale flesh showed over her waistband.

Without ceremony she plopped down on the couch next to me. She grinned as if pleased with herself at not falling over, her eyes glazed over with too much drink. Then she abruptly belched out loud and giggled.

"I'm so completely wasted," she tittered. "Ugh, and these pants are so tight! Why did I wear such tight pants?"

She leaned back on the couch and wrestled the straining button open. I grew wetter and wetter as I watched her soft pale flesh spill out.

"Well, you do look really hot in those jeans," I told her, winking slyly.

"Yeah, do you think I'm still hot?" she asked. "I'm not getting too fat?"

"You're the hottest one here," I stated. "Not a single girl even comes close."

"Oh, you're so sweet," Heather cooed. "Now if only you were a guy."

"Who needs a guy?" I asked, leaning forward to close the gap.

Soon our faces were only inches away. Heather's lips still were curled into a smile, her alcohol-soaked brain still convinced I was messing with her. Slowly I leaned in closer, finally pressing my lips against her soft, sweet, and so-fucking-hot mouth. For one promising moment her eyes drooped and she kissed me back.

Success!

Or . . . not. After that brief, tantalizing moment of bliss she abruptly pulled away. Her eyes were widened in shock.

"Wh-what was that?!" she exclaimed.

I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I guess maybe I should have told you. I'm, um, a lesbian. I like girls. I think you're really nice, and pretty, well, actually, really steaming hot, and, y'know, I just . . ."

I shrugged.

"Y-you like me??"

I nodded. "But I'm sorry if what I did made you uncomfortable. Can we still be friends?"

For a moment she just stared at me, and I feared that I had ruined it all. All my hard work for naught. But then she favored me with the sweetest smile I've ever seen and pulled me into a hug.

"Of course Jenna, of course we're still friends. I don't care if you're a lesbian. It actually feels kinda nice knowing you think I'm hot. I just . . . y'know . . . I'm not like that."

I told her I understood. What I meant is that I understood she wasn't like that now. Not yet. But soon, precious baby. Soon I'll have you begging for it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few weeks passed, and despite my "coming out" to Heather at the party, pretty much nothing had changed. Occasionally when she walked away from me she'd look over her shoulder to catch me checking out her ass. Then she'd just smile and wink at me. We still went out to eat every day, and Heather still snacked constantly while on the clock. I couldn't believe my good fortune, not only was she really starting to pack on the pounds, she didn't even seem to mind that much. And on top of it all, she waited much too long before upgrading her uniform.

"Psst, Jenna!" Heather hissed at me from the adjacent register.

It was an unusually busy Wednesday afternoon and so were both working up front. There was a bit of a lull after a surprising rush, so we finally had a minute to talk.

"Psst, what?" I whispered back.

Heather glanced furtively around before answering. "I think I need a bigger uniform."

Heather made sure her body was shielded by the register as she grabbed her belt buckle and pulled it down a bit. I almost fainted, her tan slacks were actually unbuttoned! I took a closer look at her then, and observed that seat of her pants was straining noticeably to contain a much chunkier rear. The red uniform shirt encased her rounder upper body, leaving little to the imagination. I could even see the outline of her deepening navel as her chubby little gut pressed tight against the fabric.

"Bet you don't think I'm hot now," she said.

Was it my imagination or did she actually sound a little sad?

"Just the hottest girl I've ever seen," I said, looking her up and down. "Mm, so staming hot."

Heather blushed and giggled, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger.

"Even with this?" she asked in a soft voice, gently caressing her pudgy middle.

I paused for a moment, then looked her straight in the eye. "Especially with that."

Of course Heather wanted to know what I meant by that, so I found myself explaining my preference for "curvier" girls. I was worried that it would freak her out, but to my surprise she appeared thoughtful rather than disgusted. Over the course of the afternoon I caught her a couple times looking at my body in frank appraisal.

What is she thinking about? I wondered.
 
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