~BBW, ~BHM, Romance, ~SWG - New university students are attracted to each other - and their growing bodies.
Having just arrived at Residence after a long train ride from my home town, I was excited about the future, especially all the pretty girls. I was shown to my room and unpacked my things, before heading down to the cafeteria to eat.
The cafeteria was a very large hall lined with large windows and had very high ceilings. I got a tray and helped myself to a couple of slices of pizza and a large sandwich wrap. I’m quite tall (6’4”) and also quite thin because I went through a series of growth spurts. Because I’m so tall I was always asked to play basketball in high school which kept my body lean and fairly muscular.
On that first trip to the cafeteria I took careful note of the girls I thought most likely to gain weight, watching as girls nervous at being away from their parents piled their trays with burgers and pizza and then went to get pie for desert. I could tell that these small, thin girls couldn’t continue to eat like this and have flat bellies and no fat to speak of on their hips.
There were, of course, a few exceptions, bigger girls who obviously had enjoyed their food from a young age and had the large thighs that rubbed together as they walked, bellies that pushed out over their jeans and creases in the fat above their hips when they twisted their torso.
There was one girl who really stuck out among the others in my eyes. She had long brown hair, was well tanned and had small, perky breasts. She was about 5’4” tall and around 120 lbs (I’ve become quite good at guessing girls' weight). Her blue tank top left very little to the imagination and was stretched tightly across her flat stomach.
Her bra dug in to the thin layer of fat on her shoulder blades and her jeans were like a second skin. Her butt was cute and a globe of average size and her thighs rubbed ever so slightly when she walked. She had the face of an angel with very smooth features and great hazel eyes. I thought she was stunning.
Over the next week our paths crossed only once when I saw her in the cafeteria with a breakfast of two fried eggs, hash browns, bacon and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. I watched her from two tables behind her as she stood up to get two more glasses of chocolate milk, exclaiming to her friend, “I think I’m addicted to this milk, it's sooo good.”
It may have been my imagination, but as she walked back to her seat with her milk it looked to me as though her tummy wasn’t quite as flat as it had been last time I’d seen her. She had a very slight curve to her lower belly, pressing out maybe half an inch. There was, of course, still no fat poking over her jeans, her tummy was simply growing with the increase in food she was eating.
I was sitting by myself, too shy to talk to her, and I also noticed the friend she was sitting with was a bit on the chubby side and had about a two-inch roll of fat over her sweatpants as she sat. By no means was she fat. She had about 145 pounds filling her 5’5 frame nicely and giving her wonderful curves.
As a student, I was an exception to the first year party hard - play hard motto. Maybe it was because I was paying for school myself and was actually interested in the subject matter, I didn’t feel the need to drink my face off, although I’d have a couple of beers once in a while with my friends. I was studying so hard, in fact, that I stopped having time to play basketball.
The next week I saw her she was wearing the same jeans she’d worn on the first day I saw her and she looked more beautiful than ever. I stood three people behind her in the line for baked potatoes. Her hips, I noticed from behind, were now squeezing about half an inch over her jeans, which were straining to hold her butt. As she turned around and walked by me to her table, she held her tray against her stomach so that the edge of the tray sunk in about half an inch into a soft layer of fat that had formed.
I was feeling very hungry and so asked for two potatoes, which I polished off with a couple of glasses of whole milk and a piece of pie. I had made sure that I was sitting near her and her friend and I could overhear her telling her friend about how much beer she drank last Saturday. Apparently 3 pints. She said she still felt very hungry the next morning though. I guess she’d gained about 10 pounds by then, and they had been spread about half an inch deep on her belly, which meant she had a roll of fat that pushed out beyond her jeans about an inch when she sat down.
The next time I saw her was five days later she was lined up at Second Cup. I joined the line up right behind her. She ordered a large muffin with butter and a coffee, however when she got to the till she couldn’t find her money. Being a gentleman, I payed for her and we sat down together on the couches. Her name was Beth and her stomach growled.
I said, “You must be hungry.”
“Yes,” she said, and lifted up her shirt and patted her soft, newly formed tummy which jiggled ever so slightly. I’d say, as she sat on the couch, there was at least an inch of soft fat piled on her belly which curved up from her jeans in an arc.
“I think I’ve gained weight,” she said.
“I think you look really good.”
And she smiled. And now my stomach grumbled, and she said, “You too must be hungry.”
“Yes, I am.” I lifted my own shirt and patted my belly. I saw her eyes widen and I looked down at my belly myself. I had about two inches of fat on my tummy, my belly button had sunk in about an inch and I could no longer make out any sign of my old stomach muscles.
"I guess I’ve gained some weight as well," I said, and to my surprise she reached over from where she was sitting and poked my belly with her finger letting the fat move in around it.
She giggled at me and said, “Cute.”
Filled with confidence since she had made the first move, I reached over and poked her in the belly as well. I marveled at the softness of her body and I doubt she’d ever had any stomach muscles, because my finger sank in up to my first knuckle. I asked her what she was doing that night and she said nothing. I asked her if she wanted to go to a Chinese buffet around 7 PM with me. She said sure.
While getting ready for my date, I tried on my pants and realized how tight they were. I figured I’d gained about 15 pounds, not a big deal. Beth arrived at the buffet on time and looked stunning in black stretchy pants which showed off her thighs, and a sweater which made her small, round belly look very cute and her breasts wonderful. We both started out with a large plateful of food, and as she devoured it, I could tell that she loved to eat. We went up for seconds and then thirds. We were both stuffed.
She said, “I could eat one more plate, but only if you massage my belly tonight.”
I said, “It’s a deal.”
I watched her as she ate, enjoying the food but also my gaze as I looked on in wonderment. She walked out of the restaurant cradling her tummy. I bought some chocolates and we went to her room. She took off her shirt and pants and her tummy pushed out about 4 inches; it was bloated but there was still a soft layer of fat on it despite its stretched state.
“It’s your turn” she said as she felt my belly as well. We spent a great night together.
The next morning as she sat up, I noticed a double roll of fat on her tummy. The rolls were divided at her stomach button, and as she stood up I noticed how jiggly her thighs had become.
She said, "I wonder how much I weigh?"
With that she stepped on her scale, which, from the dust on it and the location (under her bed), I’d say she very rarely used. I was excited to find out exactly how much she had gained. The scale went to 136 lbs and she gave a little shriek. “I was 119 pounds before, so how much is that?”
I said 17 pounds. And I squeezed her love handles gently and kissed her neck. “I think you're beautiful.”
She only said, “Your turn.”
I really didn’t want to know how much weight I’d gained and asked if this was really necessary; she gave a little grin and I could tell from her eyes she was really enjoying this. She playfully massaged my belly and grabbed at the fat with both hands. I was surprised she could do this. I must have gained even more weight than I’d thought. I gingerly stepped on the scale and the needle stopped at 220 pounds. I jumped off and she asked me how much I’d weighed before university. I said 197 pounds. She got out her calculator and did the calculation.
“I’m impressed,” she said, “you gained 23 pounds.”
On my tall frame it spread itself around, but there was still a significant amount of fat around my waist, which she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off.
“Come on, put some clothes on. I’m hungry, let’s go and get some breakfast,” she said.
(Continued in post 7 of this thread)
 
Cafeteria Girl
by Softness
by Softness
Having just arrived at Residence after a long train ride from my home town, I was excited about the future, especially all the pretty girls. I was shown to my room and unpacked my things, before heading down to the cafeteria to eat.
The cafeteria was a very large hall lined with large windows and had very high ceilings. I got a tray and helped myself to a couple of slices of pizza and a large sandwich wrap. I’m quite tall (6’4”) and also quite thin because I went through a series of growth spurts. Because I’m so tall I was always asked to play basketball in high school which kept my body lean and fairly muscular.
On that first trip to the cafeteria I took careful note of the girls I thought most likely to gain weight, watching as girls nervous at being away from their parents piled their trays with burgers and pizza and then went to get pie for desert. I could tell that these small, thin girls couldn’t continue to eat like this and have flat bellies and no fat to speak of on their hips.
There were, of course, a few exceptions, bigger girls who obviously had enjoyed their food from a young age and had the large thighs that rubbed together as they walked, bellies that pushed out over their jeans and creases in the fat above their hips when they twisted their torso.
There was one girl who really stuck out among the others in my eyes. She had long brown hair, was well tanned and had small, perky breasts. She was about 5’4” tall and around 120 lbs (I’ve become quite good at guessing girls' weight). Her blue tank top left very little to the imagination and was stretched tightly across her flat stomach.
Her bra dug in to the thin layer of fat on her shoulder blades and her jeans were like a second skin. Her butt was cute and a globe of average size and her thighs rubbed ever so slightly when she walked. She had the face of an angel with very smooth features and great hazel eyes. I thought she was stunning.
Over the next week our paths crossed only once when I saw her in the cafeteria with a breakfast of two fried eggs, hash browns, bacon and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. I watched her from two tables behind her as she stood up to get two more glasses of chocolate milk, exclaiming to her friend, “I think I’m addicted to this milk, it's sooo good.”
It may have been my imagination, but as she walked back to her seat with her milk it looked to me as though her tummy wasn’t quite as flat as it had been last time I’d seen her. She had a very slight curve to her lower belly, pressing out maybe half an inch. There was, of course, still no fat poking over her jeans, her tummy was simply growing with the increase in food she was eating.
I was sitting by myself, too shy to talk to her, and I also noticed the friend she was sitting with was a bit on the chubby side and had about a two-inch roll of fat over her sweatpants as she sat. By no means was she fat. She had about 145 pounds filling her 5’5 frame nicely and giving her wonderful curves.
As a student, I was an exception to the first year party hard - play hard motto. Maybe it was because I was paying for school myself and was actually interested in the subject matter, I didn’t feel the need to drink my face off, although I’d have a couple of beers once in a while with my friends. I was studying so hard, in fact, that I stopped having time to play basketball.
The next week I saw her she was wearing the same jeans she’d worn on the first day I saw her and she looked more beautiful than ever. I stood three people behind her in the line for baked potatoes. Her hips, I noticed from behind, were now squeezing about half an inch over her jeans, which were straining to hold her butt. As she turned around and walked by me to her table, she held her tray against her stomach so that the edge of the tray sunk in about half an inch into a soft layer of fat that had formed.
I was feeling very hungry and so asked for two potatoes, which I polished off with a couple of glasses of whole milk and a piece of pie. I had made sure that I was sitting near her and her friend and I could overhear her telling her friend about how much beer she drank last Saturday. Apparently 3 pints. She said she still felt very hungry the next morning though. I guess she’d gained about 10 pounds by then, and they had been spread about half an inch deep on her belly, which meant she had a roll of fat that pushed out beyond her jeans about an inch when she sat down.
The next time I saw her was five days later she was lined up at Second Cup. I joined the line up right behind her. She ordered a large muffin with butter and a coffee, however when she got to the till she couldn’t find her money. Being a gentleman, I payed for her and we sat down together on the couches. Her name was Beth and her stomach growled.
I said, “You must be hungry.”
“Yes,” she said, and lifted up her shirt and patted her soft, newly formed tummy which jiggled ever so slightly. I’d say, as she sat on the couch, there was at least an inch of soft fat piled on her belly which curved up from her jeans in an arc.
“I think I’ve gained weight,” she said.
“I think you look really good.”
And she smiled. And now my stomach grumbled, and she said, “You too must be hungry.”
“Yes, I am.” I lifted my own shirt and patted my belly. I saw her eyes widen and I looked down at my belly myself. I had about two inches of fat on my tummy, my belly button had sunk in about an inch and I could no longer make out any sign of my old stomach muscles.
"I guess I’ve gained some weight as well," I said, and to my surprise she reached over from where she was sitting and poked my belly with her finger letting the fat move in around it.
She giggled at me and said, “Cute.”
Filled with confidence since she had made the first move, I reached over and poked her in the belly as well. I marveled at the softness of her body and I doubt she’d ever had any stomach muscles, because my finger sank in up to my first knuckle. I asked her what she was doing that night and she said nothing. I asked her if she wanted to go to a Chinese buffet around 7 PM with me. She said sure.
While getting ready for my date, I tried on my pants and realized how tight they were. I figured I’d gained about 15 pounds, not a big deal. Beth arrived at the buffet on time and looked stunning in black stretchy pants which showed off her thighs, and a sweater which made her small, round belly look very cute and her breasts wonderful. We both started out with a large plateful of food, and as she devoured it, I could tell that she loved to eat. We went up for seconds and then thirds. We were both stuffed.
She said, “I could eat one more plate, but only if you massage my belly tonight.”
I said, “It’s a deal.”
I watched her as she ate, enjoying the food but also my gaze as I looked on in wonderment. She walked out of the restaurant cradling her tummy. I bought some chocolates and we went to her room. She took off her shirt and pants and her tummy pushed out about 4 inches; it was bloated but there was still a soft layer of fat on it despite its stretched state.
“It’s your turn” she said as she felt my belly as well. We spent a great night together.
The next morning as she sat up, I noticed a double roll of fat on her tummy. The rolls were divided at her stomach button, and as she stood up I noticed how jiggly her thighs had become.
She said, "I wonder how much I weigh?"
With that she stepped on her scale, which, from the dust on it and the location (under her bed), I’d say she very rarely used. I was excited to find out exactly how much she had gained. The scale went to 136 lbs and she gave a little shriek. “I was 119 pounds before, so how much is that?”
I said 17 pounds. And I squeezed her love handles gently and kissed her neck. “I think you're beautiful.”
She only said, “Your turn.”
I really didn’t want to know how much weight I’d gained and asked if this was really necessary; she gave a little grin and I could tell from her eyes she was really enjoying this. She playfully massaged my belly and grabbed at the fat with both hands. I was surprised she could do this. I must have gained even more weight than I’d thought. I gingerly stepped on the scale and the needle stopped at 220 pounds. I jumped off and she asked me how much I’d weighed before university. I said 197 pounds. She got out her calculator and did the calculation.
“I’m impressed,” she said, “you gained 23 pounds.”
On my tall frame it spread itself around, but there was still a significant amount of fat around my waist, which she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off.
“Come on, put some clothes on. I’m hungry, let’s go and get some breakfast,” she said.
(Continued in post 7 of this thread)
 
