Thanks for your feedback! Glad folks are enjoying things.
Chapter 7
Renee moaned. Her eyes shifted in and out of focus. When she finally forced them to look down, she found that the plate before her was entirely empty.
All that remained of the belt-buster challenge was the French fry in her hand, dripping with cheese. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and wolfed it down.
She reclined back in her booth, triumphant. Her tautly distended stomach swelled out against her blouse, gurgling happily, smooth and round as the burger’s bun, and she calmly folded her hands atop it. Her enormous chest heaved and she let loose a long belch.
The assembled crowd broke into applause. The bar’s cook, a scraggly young man in an apron, furtively wiped away a tear.
“You did it,” gasped the bartender. “No one’s ever even come close, but you finished it.”
Renee rubbed her gut. “Better get your camera.”
The cook stepped forward. “I just want to say…that was incredible.”
“Well, I do love a good challenge.” She smirked. “I’ve become something of an overachiever.”
Renee groaned. Her eyes had been squeezed shut as she fought off another bout of brainfreeze; when she finally opened them, she found that the enormous bowl before her was empty.
All that remained of the ice cream parlor’s birthday special—the ‘banana split trough’—was the spoonful of melted vanilla in her hand. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and slurped it down.
She slouched over the counter, plush backside spilling over the edges of her stool like ice cream over the edge of a cone. She stifled a burp.
The mesmerized crowd stared. A child celebrating his birthday watched in awe; his group of friends had scarcely finished half of the trough they’d ordered.
“She’s gonna be so hyper,” he whispered to his appalled mother.
“Just ignore her,” replied the mother, averting her gaze; Renee had reached under her blouse to massage her swollen belly.
The boy couldn’t look away. “Mom says too much sugar can make you fat,” he offered.
“Honey,” the mother hissed, “don’t be rude.”
Renee grinned. “Your mom might be right. Better give me the rest of yours to be safe.”
Renee grunted. Her eyes lingered on the pizza palace’s menu and she wondered if it was too late to order cheese sticks. Gazing back down, she found that the broad aluminum tray before her was empty.
All that remained of the Extra-Large-Extra-Everything-Extreme-Pizza was the crust of her final slice. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and shoved it into her mouth.
She turned and lounged back on the little plastic chairs of the waiting area. White creases were appearing on the chair-legs. Renee’s stomach rose before her like dough, filling her head with a new idea. “How big are your calzones?” she asked.
The assembled cooks and delivery drivers shook their heads in disbelief. The phone rang behind them, unheard.
“Usually the snowy days are so dull,” mused a driver.
“That was the double-stuffed crust,” marveled a cook.
Renee rubbed her belly. “For a double-stuffed gut.”
“You’re…you’re not serious about the calzone, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She glanced at the menu, then back at one of the drivers. “Might take it to-go, though. Any of you delivery boys think you can fit me in your car?”
Renee giggled. Her vision swam. Forcing them to focus and looking down, she found that the myriad plastic cups arrayed on the table before her were empty.
All that remained of the beer was the red cup in her hand, filled to the brim, foam spilling over the side. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and began pouring it down her throat to the chant of “Chug! Chug! Chug!”
She crumpled the empty cup and tossed it aside. Losing her balance, she fell back onto the ping-pong table, upending it and scattering cups everywhere. She flopped to the floor, feeling the beer slosh in her stomach.
The fraternity brothers whooped and cheered. The few sorority sisters they’d dragged along watched from the corner, waffling between horror and envy.
“Talk about a beer gut,” muttered one of the sisters.
Renee rubbed her paunch. “Why have a six pack when you can have a keg?”
“We have a new champ!” announced a brother.
“Big woman on campus, that’s me!” Renee sang, flopping over. “And time for someone to roll me home.”
Renee yawned. She rolled her eyes, wishing she felt fuller. Stretching her arms overhead and then reaching down to adjust her riding-up blouse, she found that the platter on the table before her was empty.
Nothing remained of her latest bowl of pasta, but there was a warm breadstick in her hand, dripping with garlic butter. Renee held it up for her date to see, winked, and pushed the whole doughy stick into her insatiable maw.
Still chewing, she shifted her mass over in the booth, belly nudging the table as she moved, and reached for the menu. Her date, a befuddled local businessman, recoiled in vain as her lovehandle squished against him.
“What should we get next?” she asked, licking her lips. “I was thinking the rigatoni, but I’m not as full as I thought I would be at this point and the lasagna sounds deliciously heavy.”
“Wh-whatever you want,” stammered her date. “If you’re still…still hungry.”
She patted his head. “You’re so funny. Of course I’m still hungry. And thirsty, too…we need more wine. You know, when I first got to town, I didn’t know the first thing about wine. But now, I’m a connoisseur. And I demand the best. Waiter!”
“I didn’t know we had a bottomless pasta sampler deal,” said a plump waitress, trying to ignore the scene.
The manager turned away from Renee’s table. “We don’t. At least…we haven’t. She said she’s from corporate and they’re testing it as a new special offer.”
The waitress cocked an eyebrow. “And you just…believed her?”
“I didn’t recognize her, but apparently she’s the new area rep, and that fellow she’s with works for the chamber of commerce. She really seems to know everything about the franchise, and about our efforts to try new things. She’s pretty sharp, I gotta say…every time I had a question, it was like she knew what I was gonna ask.” He chuckled. “She was practically finishing my sentences.”
“Well, now she’s finished another bowl of fettuccine…and she’s trying to wave you over for her next order.”
Night had chased most of the hotel’s guests back to their rooms. The lobby stood silent. At the front desk, Phil rubbed his eyes to keep from falling asleep. Footsteps crunched in the snow outside, the first sounds he’d heard in over an hour.
He looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she sauntered into the lobby, a contented smile on her face.
She took a long breath, absently massaging the side of her abdomen. Her outfit, though still too large for her in places, seemed somewhat snug around her midsection. A well-fed food-baby pushed out against the pale fabric of her blouse and kept the skirt’s waistband from sliding down.
“Hey, Phil,” she called, making her way over. Her curves shifted with each step, her concealed belly making its presence known from within the blouse. Her cleavage, teased by a couple of unfastened buttons, swayed enticingly.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237…Renee, right?”
She leaned against his desk, proffering her bosom. Beneath her makeup, her face was flushed. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She smirked. “Sorry, I’m kinda lightheaded…had a little too much wine to go with a little too much dinner. I think I lost my keycard.”
“Oh, no problem. I’ll set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re the best.” Renee turned to the door. “There you are! I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”
The spiky-haired clerk from the record store stepped inside, shaking snow from his patch-covered leather jacket. “Went back to the car for that album you mentioned…’Feast of the Elves,’ remember?” He crossed the lobby and sidled up beside Renee, CD in hand.
She wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled his shoulder. “Oh, I remember. Now come upstairs and I’ll show you a real feast.”
Staring away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Uh, enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up some snacks?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she sashayed into the lobby, a satisfied grin on her face.
She took a deep breath, pressing a hand to the side of her abdomen. Her outfit, though fitting perfectly in most other places, seemed strained around her midsection. An overstuffed beer gut swelled out against the pale fabric of her blouse and pushed down the waistband of her skirt.
“Hey, Phil,” she sighed, making her way over. Her softness wobbled with each step, her barely contained belly fighting the free itself from the blouse. Her cleavage, testing the few buttons that remained fastened, bounced mesmerizingly.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237…Renee, right?”
She leaned herself against his desk, setting her bosom on the counter. Her eyes seemed out of focus and her voice was louder than necessary. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She bit her lip. “Sorry…one too many cocktails tonight to go with one too many hors d’oeuvres. I think I lost my keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re the sweetest.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I’d assumed, with all the running you do, you would beat me here.”
The jogging man from the park stepped inside, shaking snow from his letterman jacket. “Do I need to teach you some patience?” He crossed the lobby and cocked an eyebrow at her.
She gazed up at him and winked. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I tend to get what I want…when I want it.”
Staring away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Enjoy…enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up some dessert?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she swaggered into the lobby, a conspiratorial smirk on her face.
She paused to catch her breath, rubbing the swell of her abdomen. Her outfit, coming apart at the seams in several places, had given up on her midsection. A bloated pot belly jutted out from the flaps of her blouse, having popped several of its buttons, and bulged over the waistband of her unfastened skirt.
“Hey, Phil,” she panted, making her way over. Her pudge jiggled with each step, exposed belly celebrating its freedom from the blouse. As she walked, her heaving bosom popped the shirt’s last remaining button.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237? Renee, right?”
She steadied herself against his desk, breasts threatening to spill out of her bra and onto the countertop. Her eyes were glazed and her speech deliberate. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She paused, searching for words. “Sorry…we were doing shots. And wings. Lots of wings…anyway, I think I lost my…keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re always…on top of things.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I knew I should’ve put a leash on you.”
The bottom-heavy sorority sister stepped inside, shaking snow from her peacoat. “I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted me to come.” She crossed the lobby and stood sheepishly beside her.
Renee kissed her forehead. “Of course I do. Theresa, you are mine, for the rest of the night.”
Trying to look away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Enjoy yourselv—enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I…while I have you, could you have room service send up some treats?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she stumbled into the lobby, giggling.
She stood swaying a moment, steadying herself against the wall, patting the dome of her abdomen. Her outfit was missing, leaving her in panties that pinched into her sides and a bra that didn’t support her breasts so much as clutch vainly at them. A glutted paunch hung from her midsection, gurgling loudly.
“Hey, Phil,” she called with a hiccup, weaving her way over. Her flab rippled with each step, naked belly sloshing. As she reached the front desk one of her bra straps snapped. Her left breast sagged down further, the bra’s cup hanging limply over her nipple.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, m-ma’am? Room…237?”
She collapsed against the counter, propping her head up with her hands, fingers squishing into her second chin. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She paused to hiccup again. “Sorry…someone brought the hard stuff. Figured all the food and fat would absorb it more, but…mm, more. Anyway, I think I—hic!—I think I lost my keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just…set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re my fav—hilp!—vorite.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I was worried I…wouldn’t get to share all this.”
Abby stepped in, followed by a swarthy young man from the campus bookstore, brushing snow from each other’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You promised to model for my next project,” she explained, crossing the lobby and ducking as Renee threw an arm over her shoulder.
The waifish artist looked miniscule next to Renee’s uncovered corpulence. The boy from the bookstore followed and Renee wrapped her other arm around him, pulling her two companions close. “Guys, believe me. I…I can show you the—hic!—the meaning of fullness.”
Staring at her stomach, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. I hope you…all…enjoy your stay.”
“We are. Hulp! Oh, and hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up…I don’t know. Hic! Dinner? Three or four dinners.”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she collapsed into the lobby, laughing uncontrollably.
She reclined against a table for a moment, cradling the weight of her abdomen. She was entirely naked, glistening with melted snow but steaming, warmed by the effort of carrying her bulk in from the parking lot. A decadent globe comprised her midsection, filled to its expansive brim.
“Hey, Phil,” she slurred, pushing off the table to make her way over. Her flesh quaked with each uneven step and her sagging breasts flopped against the swell of her fat apron. Her feet betrayed her, though, and she fell backward in an obese heap of snickering indulgence.
Phil rushed out from behind his desk. “Ma’am? Ma’am—Renee, are you alright?”
She lay in the center of the lobby, hands caressing her belly. “I’m great. Lissen, I…” She paused to loose a thunderous belch. “Oh, am I enjoying my stay. Hee. Gotta say, Phil, there’s…there’s way more to do in this town than I ever…ever woulda…mm. Anyway, I…keycard…y’know…urrp.”
“Um. You need your keycard? I’ll…I’ll just set up a new one for you. Do you need, uh…help?”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re always…there for me.” She reached a pudgy hand and seized his collar. “I do need some help, yeah. I need…you.”
He coughed and glanced at the door. There was no one around. “Me?”
She pulled him close. “I figured out your secret.”
“I…I don’t know what you’re…”
“I know what everyone here likes, Phil. And now I know what you like. I can…feel it.” She squished her paunch against him. “Take me up to my room…bring as much room service as you want…whatever you wanna see me eat.” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach. It didn’t feel like there was any room left for more food. “Feed me everything you can…like there’s no tomorrow.”
Chapter 7
Renee moaned. Her eyes shifted in and out of focus. When she finally forced them to look down, she found that the plate before her was entirely empty.
All that remained of the belt-buster challenge was the French fry in her hand, dripping with cheese. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and wolfed it down.
She reclined back in her booth, triumphant. Her tautly distended stomach swelled out against her blouse, gurgling happily, smooth and round as the burger’s bun, and she calmly folded her hands atop it. Her enormous chest heaved and she let loose a long belch.
The assembled crowd broke into applause. The bar’s cook, a scraggly young man in an apron, furtively wiped away a tear.
“You did it,” gasped the bartender. “No one’s ever even come close, but you finished it.”
Renee rubbed her gut. “Better get your camera.”
The cook stepped forward. “I just want to say…that was incredible.”
“Well, I do love a good challenge.” She smirked. “I’ve become something of an overachiever.”
Renee groaned. Her eyes had been squeezed shut as she fought off another bout of brainfreeze; when she finally opened them, she found that the enormous bowl before her was empty.
All that remained of the ice cream parlor’s birthday special—the ‘banana split trough’—was the spoonful of melted vanilla in her hand. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and slurped it down.
She slouched over the counter, plush backside spilling over the edges of her stool like ice cream over the edge of a cone. She stifled a burp.
The mesmerized crowd stared. A child celebrating his birthday watched in awe; his group of friends had scarcely finished half of the trough they’d ordered.
“She’s gonna be so hyper,” he whispered to his appalled mother.
“Just ignore her,” replied the mother, averting her gaze; Renee had reached under her blouse to massage her swollen belly.
The boy couldn’t look away. “Mom says too much sugar can make you fat,” he offered.
“Honey,” the mother hissed, “don’t be rude.”
Renee grinned. “Your mom might be right. Better give me the rest of yours to be safe.”
Renee grunted. Her eyes lingered on the pizza palace’s menu and she wondered if it was too late to order cheese sticks. Gazing back down, she found that the broad aluminum tray before her was empty.
All that remained of the Extra-Large-Extra-Everything-Extreme-Pizza was the crust of her final slice. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and shoved it into her mouth.
She turned and lounged back on the little plastic chairs of the waiting area. White creases were appearing on the chair-legs. Renee’s stomach rose before her like dough, filling her head with a new idea. “How big are your calzones?” she asked.
The assembled cooks and delivery drivers shook their heads in disbelief. The phone rang behind them, unheard.
“Usually the snowy days are so dull,” mused a driver.
“That was the double-stuffed crust,” marveled a cook.
Renee rubbed her belly. “For a double-stuffed gut.”
“You’re…you’re not serious about the calzone, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She glanced at the menu, then back at one of the drivers. “Might take it to-go, though. Any of you delivery boys think you can fit me in your car?”
Renee giggled. Her vision swam. Forcing them to focus and looking down, she found that the myriad plastic cups arrayed on the table before her were empty.
All that remained of the beer was the red cup in her hand, filled to the brim, foam spilling over the side. Renee held it up for all to see, winked, and began pouring it down her throat to the chant of “Chug! Chug! Chug!”
She crumpled the empty cup and tossed it aside. Losing her balance, she fell back onto the ping-pong table, upending it and scattering cups everywhere. She flopped to the floor, feeling the beer slosh in her stomach.
The fraternity brothers whooped and cheered. The few sorority sisters they’d dragged along watched from the corner, waffling between horror and envy.
“Talk about a beer gut,” muttered one of the sisters.
Renee rubbed her paunch. “Why have a six pack when you can have a keg?”
“We have a new champ!” announced a brother.
“Big woman on campus, that’s me!” Renee sang, flopping over. “And time for someone to roll me home.”
Renee yawned. She rolled her eyes, wishing she felt fuller. Stretching her arms overhead and then reaching down to adjust her riding-up blouse, she found that the platter on the table before her was empty.
Nothing remained of her latest bowl of pasta, but there was a warm breadstick in her hand, dripping with garlic butter. Renee held it up for her date to see, winked, and pushed the whole doughy stick into her insatiable maw.
Still chewing, she shifted her mass over in the booth, belly nudging the table as she moved, and reached for the menu. Her date, a befuddled local businessman, recoiled in vain as her lovehandle squished against him.
“What should we get next?” she asked, licking her lips. “I was thinking the rigatoni, but I’m not as full as I thought I would be at this point and the lasagna sounds deliciously heavy.”
“Wh-whatever you want,” stammered her date. “If you’re still…still hungry.”
She patted his head. “You’re so funny. Of course I’m still hungry. And thirsty, too…we need more wine. You know, when I first got to town, I didn’t know the first thing about wine. But now, I’m a connoisseur. And I demand the best. Waiter!”
“I didn’t know we had a bottomless pasta sampler deal,” said a plump waitress, trying to ignore the scene.
The manager turned away from Renee’s table. “We don’t. At least…we haven’t. She said she’s from corporate and they’re testing it as a new special offer.”
The waitress cocked an eyebrow. “And you just…believed her?”
“I didn’t recognize her, but apparently she’s the new area rep, and that fellow she’s with works for the chamber of commerce. She really seems to know everything about the franchise, and about our efforts to try new things. She’s pretty sharp, I gotta say…every time I had a question, it was like she knew what I was gonna ask.” He chuckled. “She was practically finishing my sentences.”
“Well, now she’s finished another bowl of fettuccine…and she’s trying to wave you over for her next order.”
Night had chased most of the hotel’s guests back to their rooms. The lobby stood silent. At the front desk, Phil rubbed his eyes to keep from falling asleep. Footsteps crunched in the snow outside, the first sounds he’d heard in over an hour.
He looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she sauntered into the lobby, a contented smile on her face.
She took a long breath, absently massaging the side of her abdomen. Her outfit, though still too large for her in places, seemed somewhat snug around her midsection. A well-fed food-baby pushed out against the pale fabric of her blouse and kept the skirt’s waistband from sliding down.
“Hey, Phil,” she called, making her way over. Her curves shifted with each step, her concealed belly making its presence known from within the blouse. Her cleavage, teased by a couple of unfastened buttons, swayed enticingly.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237…Renee, right?”
She leaned against his desk, proffering her bosom. Beneath her makeup, her face was flushed. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She smirked. “Sorry, I’m kinda lightheaded…had a little too much wine to go with a little too much dinner. I think I lost my keycard.”
“Oh, no problem. I’ll set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re the best.” Renee turned to the door. “There you are! I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”
The spiky-haired clerk from the record store stepped inside, shaking snow from his patch-covered leather jacket. “Went back to the car for that album you mentioned…’Feast of the Elves,’ remember?” He crossed the lobby and sidled up beside Renee, CD in hand.
She wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled his shoulder. “Oh, I remember. Now come upstairs and I’ll show you a real feast.”
Staring away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Uh, enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up some snacks?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she sashayed into the lobby, a satisfied grin on her face.
She took a deep breath, pressing a hand to the side of her abdomen. Her outfit, though fitting perfectly in most other places, seemed strained around her midsection. An overstuffed beer gut swelled out against the pale fabric of her blouse and pushed down the waistband of her skirt.
“Hey, Phil,” she sighed, making her way over. Her softness wobbled with each step, her barely contained belly fighting the free itself from the blouse. Her cleavage, testing the few buttons that remained fastened, bounced mesmerizingly.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237…Renee, right?”
She leaned herself against his desk, setting her bosom on the counter. Her eyes seemed out of focus and her voice was louder than necessary. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She bit her lip. “Sorry…one too many cocktails tonight to go with one too many hors d’oeuvres. I think I lost my keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re the sweetest.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I’d assumed, with all the running you do, you would beat me here.”
The jogging man from the park stepped inside, shaking snow from his letterman jacket. “Do I need to teach you some patience?” He crossed the lobby and cocked an eyebrow at her.
She gazed up at him and winked. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I tend to get what I want…when I want it.”
Staring away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Enjoy…enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up some dessert?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she swaggered into the lobby, a conspiratorial smirk on her face.
She paused to catch her breath, rubbing the swell of her abdomen. Her outfit, coming apart at the seams in several places, had given up on her midsection. A bloated pot belly jutted out from the flaps of her blouse, having popped several of its buttons, and bulged over the waistband of her unfastened skirt.
“Hey, Phil,” she panted, making her way over. Her pudge jiggled with each step, exposed belly celebrating its freedom from the blouse. As she walked, her heaving bosom popped the shirt’s last remaining button.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, ma’am? Room 237? Renee, right?”
She steadied herself against his desk, breasts threatening to spill out of her bra and onto the countertop. Her eyes were glazed and her speech deliberate. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She paused, searching for words. “Sorry…we were doing shots. And wings. Lots of wings…anyway, I think I lost my…keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re always…on top of things.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I knew I should’ve put a leash on you.”
The bottom-heavy sorority sister stepped inside, shaking snow from her peacoat. “I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted me to come.” She crossed the lobby and stood sheepishly beside her.
Renee kissed her forehead. “Of course I do. Theresa, you are mine, for the rest of the night.”
Trying to look away, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. Enjoy yourselv—enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I am. And hey, while I…while I have you, could you have room service send up some treats?”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she stumbled into the lobby, giggling.
She stood swaying a moment, steadying herself against the wall, patting the dome of her abdomen. Her outfit was missing, leaving her in panties that pinched into her sides and a bra that didn’t support her breasts so much as clutch vainly at them. A glutted paunch hung from her midsection, gurgling loudly.
“Hey, Phil,” she called with a hiccup, weaving her way over. Her flab rippled with each step, naked belly sloshing. As she reached the front desk one of her bra straps snapped. Her left breast sagged down further, the bra’s cup hanging limply over her nipple.
Phil swallowed. “Yes, m-ma’am? Room…237?”
She collapsed against the counter, propping her head up with her hands, fingers squishing into her second chin. “That’s me. Listen, I…” She paused to hiccup again. “Sorry…someone brought the hard stuff. Figured all the food and fat would absorb it more, but…mm, more. Anyway, I think I—hic!—I think I lost my keycard.”
“Uh, no problem. I’ll just…set up a new one for you.”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re my fav—hilp!—vorite.” She turned to the door. “There you are! I was worried I…wouldn’t get to share all this.”
Abby stepped in, followed by a swarthy young man from the campus bookstore, brushing snow from each other’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You promised to model for my next project,” she explained, crossing the lobby and ducking as Renee threw an arm over her shoulder.
The waifish artist looked miniscule next to Renee’s uncovered corpulence. The boy from the bookstore followed and Renee wrapped her other arm around him, pulling her two companions close. “Guys, believe me. I…I can show you the—hic!—the meaning of fullness.”
Staring at her stomach, Phil handed her a card. “Here you are, ma’am. I hope you…all…enjoy your stay.”
“We are. Hulp! Oh, and hey, while I have you, could you have room service send up…I don’t know. Hic! Dinner? Three or four dinners.”
Phil looked up from his computer as the front door slid open. Craning his neck, he could see Renee as she collapsed into the lobby, laughing uncontrollably.
She reclined against a table for a moment, cradling the weight of her abdomen. She was entirely naked, glistening with melted snow but steaming, warmed by the effort of carrying her bulk in from the parking lot. A decadent globe comprised her midsection, filled to its expansive brim.
“Hey, Phil,” she slurred, pushing off the table to make her way over. Her flesh quaked with each uneven step and her sagging breasts flopped against the swell of her fat apron. Her feet betrayed her, though, and she fell backward in an obese heap of snickering indulgence.
Phil rushed out from behind his desk. “Ma’am? Ma’am—Renee, are you alright?”
She lay in the center of the lobby, hands caressing her belly. “I’m great. Lissen, I…” She paused to loose a thunderous belch. “Oh, am I enjoying my stay. Hee. Gotta say, Phil, there’s…there’s way more to do in this town than I ever…ever woulda…mm. Anyway, I…keycard…y’know…urrp.”
“Um. You need your keycard? I’ll…I’ll just set up a new one for you. Do you need, uh…help?”
“Thanks, Phil. You’re always…there for me.” She reached a pudgy hand and seized his collar. “I do need some help, yeah. I need…you.”
He coughed and glanced at the door. There was no one around. “Me?”
She pulled him close. “I figured out your secret.”
“I…I don’t know what you’re…”
“I know what everyone here likes, Phil. And now I know what you like. I can…feel it.” She squished her paunch against him. “Take me up to my room…bring as much room service as you want…whatever you wanna see me eat.” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach. It didn’t feel like there was any room left for more food. “Feed me everything you can…like there’s no tomorrow.”
Last edited:
