Monument to Confection - by Invisking (~BBW, Eating, Romance, ~SWG)

[Observer]

~BBW, Eating, Romance, ~SWG - a young man's job becomes much more interesting when a new customer takes on an eating challenge

The Monument to Confection
by Invisking
(courtesy of the Mollycoddles collection)​

My uncle owned the Sweet Licks ice cream parlor on 165th Street. I'd been working there part-time for a year. Never had I seen a girl more beautiful than the one my eyes set upon that day.

She waltzed in almost on air, her eyes sparkled a glance my way. I smiled as best I could under such circumstance; it was not every day one saw a goddess take flesh and walk among humanity. Her hair was brown and done up in braids and her eyes were deep and forest green. The way she carried herself was done with grace and self-confidence. Yet what really caught my eye was the noticeable tummy she failed to hide under her tight t-shirt.

I gulped and tried not to look directly at her for fear she would see the wonder in my eyes. She folded her arms on the counter and leaned forward.

“Hi,” she said in a manner so openly friendly I nearly swooned.

“Hello,” came my reply as I straightened my apron. “And… welcome to Sweet Licks. H-how,” I stuttered, clearing my throat in effort to regain some composure. “How can I help you today?”

“Well, you have a lot of ice cream to choose from,” she said as she looked at the menu board. “What do you recommend?”

The first thing that came to fantasy-laden mind was the Monument to Confection. No one could eat that much in one sitting. “The cookies and cream,” I said continuing to fight back my nervous tendency to stutter.

“Can I have a taste?” she said with a playful grin. Was she flirting? I thought as I offered her the sampling.

“Mmmmm,” she cooed. “This is the best cookies and cream I’ve ever had!”

“Well, all our ice cream is home-made.”

“Really? So you have to make this every day?”

“Yeah, my uncle and I do most of the work. We have another person here, but she took a vacation for the next week.”

“Oh, really? Well I don’t want you to work extra hard then, so I’ll only have a double scoop of that, please, in a waffle cone.”

“Just a double scoop?” I joked. “You must not be very hungry.”

“That’s a lot of ice cream for my little tummy,” she said with a cute frown as she patted it gently. My eyes widened.

“Um… well… here you go,” I said as I handed her the double-scooped waffle cone. I felt my cheeks ignite when her hand briefly touched mine as I relayed the cone to her.

“Aww, you’re sweet. Did you make these scoops extra big just for me?” Was she testing me?

I felt a sudden rush of daring before “I think you deserve a little more,” issued forth from my mouth. To my surprise, that got her to smile.

“Keep that up and you’ll have a friend for life. My name’s Gretchen. I’m sort of new in town.”

“I’m Alan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Alan. Say, why don’t you take a break and sit down here with me. We can get to know each other.” She winked.

I pulled up a stool across from her and tried my hardest not to ogle her.

Gretchen looked around until her eyes became fixed on the plastic novelty representation of the Monument to Confection.

“What’s the story on that?” she asked, pointing towards the model.

“That’s what my uncle calls the ‘Monument to Confection’. Nobody has ever been able to eat the whole thing. If they can do it, it’s free. I think they win a t-shirt, or an umbrella or something too.”

“Free ice cream?” she said as her eyes lit up.

“Well, yeah, but you’d have to eat about ten gallons of it.”

“Is that it?” she said licking at her ice cream.

“Well, plus the toppings and syrup.”

“That’s nothing; I ate more than that before I came in here. I love to eat,” she said with a bright grin. I could tell by her curvaceous figure that she was not fibbing.

“I can tell.” Her eyes widened. Alan, you ass! How could I of let that slip out? I blew my one chance at impressing her, and now I went and ahead and indirectly called her fat.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Well, I mean… I just meant that, I just got that sort of vibe from you, and your actions, the way you’re eating your ice cream, it just denoted that.” Good save!

“Well, you’re a fine judge of character. I’d eat all the time if I didn’t get a stomach ache after eating too much. But that usually doesn’t happen very often.” There was no way she was that perfect, I thought.

“It’s about time I went home, it’s getting dark,” she said glancing outside. “You’re very nice to sit down and talk with a complete stranger.”

“We’re not strangers anymore, though.”

“No, we’re not. I’ll see you soon. Oh, before I forget, how much was the ice cream?”

“Don’t worry, it’s on me. I’d say you paid with it with your wonderful conversation.”

“You charmer! Giving a girl free ice cream just might make her fat.” She smiled wryly.

“I’ll see you around,” she said as she walked out the door. I took in a huge breath and let it out slowly, marveling at how wonderful she looked from behind as she did from the front.

That night, I could not sleep. My mind fantasized about Gretchen eating the Monument to Confection over and over again. I imagined her belly blowing up like a beach ball until she was perfectly round. I pictured her eating all our ice cream and becoming so fat that we had to roll her out the door. Finally, I fell asleep and still I dreamed of the Monument, every last drop, being eaten by that angel.

A week went by with no sign of Gretchen. Did she move? Did she come in and eat the Monument on my day off? Did she eat too much at home and explode (highly improbable, I knew)? Where did she go? Hoping she came in that day,
I spent my free time concocting a Monument.

It was not called the Monument to Confection for nothing; it was huge. It was one gallon of double chocolate ice cream and one gallon of vanilla, covered in chocolate syrup. Nuts are then sprinkled over them and sliced bananas are used to decorate. Marshmallows stand on like penguins on a glacier. Whipped cream is sprayed around in a spiraling motion, while cookies float in it like chocolate floes. As the finishing touch, a chocolate covered cherry rested atop it. I had yet to see anybody finish it; I’d yet to see anybody order it.

No sooner than the cherry was placed on top did she walk in. She changed somehow. Her hair was done in a ponytail, but that wasn’t the only change.

Her beautiful cherubic face seemed a tad rounder. But not only that, but her breasts seemed fuller. Her belly actually grew! I saw her bellybutton peek out from under her shirt. Last time, the only flesh I saw was from her sides, but now her shirt didn’t even cover her whole stomach.

“Hi, handsome,” she said. “Miss me?”

“Gretchen! Wow, what a surprise! I was just thinking about you!”

“Good thoughts, I hope,” she said as she made her way to the counter. “Notice anything different about me?”

“Your hair?”

“Yes, and?”

“Umm…” Did she mean her figure? “Not that I can tell.”

“I’ve been practicing for today. Today is the day I eat the Monument to Confection!”

I nearly passed out. “Get out! No one has ever dared attempt to eat it!”

“I’ll be the first! I’ve been eating almost non-stop all week in preparation for today! I’m actually a little full right now, but it won'ty last long, I promise.” she said as she rubbed her belly. “I’ve told you I’ve eaten more than this, and I’ll show you! Whip me up one!”

“Um… alright… I have a surprise for you!” I ran into the back room and took out the masterpiece from the freezer. I lugged it onto a cart and rolled it out.

"How would she eat the entire thing?" I wondered She would get sick, or worse.

I gave an extravagant “Tada” as I carted it toward the table she sat at. Her squeal of delight gave me goosebumps.

“It’s bigger than I thought,” she purred. I locked the door, shut the blinds and put up the closed sign. It was just Gretchen, the monument, and me, under the hanging lamps. As I sat down across from her, she already started into it. She gobbled it down ravenously, as though she was absolutely starved. She snarfed and snapped, singing its praise the whole time.

“I’ve never had anything so chocolaty… these bananas really top it off… ooh, there’s vanilla in here too… mmmm… this is so delicious, I could eat like this forever…”

It seemed that way. She ate for a while before she was even halfway through. Her belly was really starting to bloat, too. It was already impressive in my eyes, but the ice cream compressed inside of her pushed it further forward. She eventually undid her jeans and let her entire belly loose in the open air, which I caught her rubbing between bites. I just hoped she did not notice how much it literally excited me; she might find me a pervert if she did.

An hour passed, and her tumescent belly stuck out with the roundness of a volleyball – yet she never lost her pace. Even though most of the ice cream had begun to melt, she slurped it up like a soup. Only in my fantasies had I seen a person eat until their stomach inched out ever farther with every gulp and swallow; it was as if her capacity was endless.

“I can’t believe you’re over halfway done!” I said pouring her another glass of water. You’re an incredible eater.”

“I told you (gulp) I loved to (urp) eat!”

“Does your stomach hurt at all? It looks painfully swollen.”

“Nope! I told you (chomp) I’ve eaten (beeelch) more than (gurgle) this.”

She ate nonstop for an hour and a half before the end was in sight. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream. I pinched myself twice and Gretchen once, just to make sure. She slurped up the whipped cream and melted ice cream. She chewed the softened cookies and crunched the remaining peanuts.

“I’m… almost done… (urp),” she said as her pace slowed.

“I don’t think you can finish this, Gretchen.”

“I have faith (burrrrp).” Her stomach was pale and shiny like a pearl. I worried that she would make herself sick if she kept on, but how on earth could any sane man in my frame of mind of stopped a beautiful girl from stuffing as such? She chewed and swallowed, slurped and gulped, and finally, at the bottom, only the cherry remained.

“Alan… help me finish it,” she said as she opened her mouth. There was a huge chocolate ring around her lips and whipped cream blemished her face. Deep down her throat and into her belly was a huge pulsating mass of confections. And the cherry would top it off. I lifted the candy-coated fruit and gently set it into her mouth, bracing myself for what might happen after she ate it all. Maybe fate did not want anyone to eat the entire thing and dictate Gretchen should burst if she swallowed the cherry. Or maybe fate wanted her to be the first person to finish my uncle’s mad creation. At any rate, that cherry would make or break the poor girl.

She chewed it up slowly and swallowed it. She too waited for the huge gurgle, and for her belly to swell up until she burst.

Then it happened.

There was the huge gurgle. I could hear pressure building up inside of her. Oh, no, she’s going to pop, I thought. She’s going to die because of me! She closed her eyes tightly, and so did I. Any minute now…

The silence was broken by the prolonged sound of a well-needed belch, followed by a meek, “Excuse me.”

I opened one eye and I saw a very chubby, very full girl and contented sitting in a chair in my uncle’s ice cream parlor, giving her stomach a much needed rub.

“Delicious,” she said grinning.

And so Gretchen went down in Sweet Licks history as the only person ever to finish the whole Monument to Confection. A picture of her adorned the wall above the Monument’s replica. We joked about the photo needing to be a panoramic shot in order to get all of her tummy in at once.

We made a very subtle bond that day, me driving her home and attempting to sneak her through the back door so her parents wouldn’t notice she was smuggling two gallons of ice cream in her midsection.

After that, we began seeing each other every day I worked at Sweet Licks and got together on the days I didn’t work, which lead me to believe she didn’t just hang around with me for the free ice cream. Gretchen also picked up a habit of teasing me that she could some day eat two of my uncle’s insane concoctions. But that would be another story.

 

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