Warning: This story features excessive voluptuous weight gain (though not nearly as much as the next chapter will!), adult themes like boobs and stuff, and other things that you may object to if that’s the sort of thing you find objectionable. For everyone else, Bon Appétit!

Closing Time, Part I

By: Kodos

It was a beautiful Thursday evening, really the first genuinely Spring-timey day we'd had after a long, gray winter that had draped itself over the city for months, and the last place I wanted to be spending it was sitting in uptown traffic, but here we were.

“Damn, are you sure this place is still going to be open by the time we get there?” I asked Kelli, as I tried to make a right turn and nearly got hit by some guy on a bike, “I mean, I know you said you really wanted to eat there tonight, but we're going to be hitting the road pretty early tomorrow; can't I just promise to take you anywhere you want for dinner in a couple of days once we're settled in up in Pittsburgh?”

“What? It's only 7:30 and it's still light out; of course they'll still be open,” Kelli said encouragingly as I dodged down an alley that had clearly been laid before conversion vans were even invented, “I know it sounds kind of silly, and you've been working like crazy to get your job all wrapped up before we pull up stakes, but I've been wanting to go to this place with you for months, and by this time tomorrow we'll be like, six hours away and we'll never get here for a date.”

I glanced over at her as I narrowly avoided cutting the wrong way onto a one-way street and smiled in good-natured defeat. I had never been able to tell this woman no. Tall, with long, raven-black hair that I think she only wore in a perm because she knew I thought that whole 80s thing was kind of sexy, a cute nose and eyes that danced with mischief, and a figure just a little bit on the zaftig side, and I'd been smitten the moment I'd first laid eyes on her.

“Okay, I think we're just a couple blocks away,” I said optimistically, “It's cool; I know you've been working nights and taking a pretty heavy load of classes trying to get your degree finished up these last few months; you deserve a bit of a night out before we jump right into the next big thing.”

“Oh my gosh, tell me about it,” Kelli sighed, reaching out and lacing her fingers in between mine, “I feel like we've barely had any time for ourselves the last six months, and I know that between school and work and the stress of all of it I've put on a few pounds. I bet once we're in a city where practically everything is build into a hillside I'll walk it all off before you know it.”

“Well, don't feel like you have to spend all those free hours you'll have outside of translating ancient Sumerian tablets or whatever hitting the gym,” I assured her, letting go of her hand and reaching over to squeeze her well-padded thigh, “I'd rather have you be a little bit on the curvy side and actually be around to hang out with than be all super fit and still never see you in the evening. Actually, I think I kind of prefer you like this anyways.”

“Oh, so you do like me more since I put on thirty pounds,” she smiled playfully as she moved my hand up a little higher, the fabric of her skirt snug against her shapely legs, “I was wondering when you'd finally come out and admit it.”

“What? I mean it's not like that,” I protested, worried that in my distraction I'd shared just a little bit too much about what I really thought of her increasingly-cuddly figure, “If it's stressing you out, then I'm totally cool with you signing up for a spinning class or whatever you want. We'll finally have enough money to do stuff like that without having to worry about every penny going to rent and tuition and all that, which'll be great. I just-”

“Just what? Enjoy taking me to bed and sucking on my boobs now they're actually big enough to play with, or smacking me on the butt whenever you catch me leaning over anything around the apartment?” Kelli asked, reveling in my predicament, “Oh don't look all panicked like that; it's not like I haven't been enjoying the extra attention lately.”

“How did you know?” I asked, trying to keep my attention on the crowded road ahead.

“What, like you didn't think I noticed the way you looked at me when you came home and found me laying on the couch in a pair of yoga pants because none of my other pants fit me anymore, or the fact that for the last few months, whenever we're spooning in bed you keep draping your arm over my belly and fondling my muffin top? Don't worry; I'm a big girl, if it bothered me I'd have let you know, and anyways, speaking of which, here we are. Look, there's an open spot right on front!”

I slammed on the brakes, eliciting an angry honk from someone behind me, and backed into place along the busy street.

“Here, just get out on my side,” Kelli suggested as she opened her door and slid from her seat to the sidewalk, “You'll be waiting forever for a break in traffic on your side.”

I smiled as I watched her get out; feeling way too relieved that she was okay with me liking that she'd gained a bit of weight lately; the sight of her all-too-smackable bottom before she turned to hold the door open for me leaving me hoping that she wouldn't be hitting the gym too hard once we got all relocated. I awkwardly worked my way across her seat and then out the door after her, and there we were.

“'The Muffin Top',” I said, looking up at the cartoonishly bulging letters above broad glass door before turning my attention to a large banner spread across the windows to either side of the entrance, “'Sumptuously Furnished, Generously Expanded! If You Haven't Seen Us Lately, You're Missing Quite a Bit.' Just what kind of place is this, anyways?”

“I told you before,” Kelli said, grabbing my hand insistently and pulling me across the sidewalk, “They do coffee, desserts; I know that's not your thing, but I'm pretty sure you can get a beer here too, if you just want to talk while you watch me eat. It's supposed to be the best place for a hundred miles around, at least. Come on, let's not waste any more time, okay?”

I followed her inside. The whole place was done up kind of like a 50s diner, black and white tile floor, cherry red walls, with lots of chrome trim to boot. The front window hadn't been lying, even in the fading light of the evening, the whole place practically gleamed, and I found myself gazing around with far more interest than I'd expected as Kelli lead me to a large table right near the register, just across from a display case that looked like it contained about a hundred different kinds of sweets, pastries and other indulgences. I have to admit thought, it wasn't just the restaurant that drew my attention.

At a table corner table near the front sat a woman with a strikingly lush figure. She wore her red hair in a close-cropped, but unmistakeably feminine style, and her dark-framed glasses looked in danger of slipping off her nose as she intently read a romance novel, a half-finished mug of coffee steaming on the table in her free hand. And she was beautiful. The cream-colored sweater she wore was loosely-tailored, but nothing could have disguised her more-than-ample bosom, her full breasts jostling each other for room, hemmed in on either side by her plump arms, and supported in part by what looked to be a belly that she rarely permitted to remain empty for long. She had a slight double chin, the kind that only really makes an appearance when its owner is looking sharply downwards, and as we drew alongside her table, I saw that she was just as generously formed down below, a pair of well-worn jeans stretched tight across her fat thighs, straining to encompass her womanly hips. The next moment, the bell on the front door rang as it swung closed, and lifted momentarily from her reading, she glanced up at us and smiled before returning to her book. I risked a glance back as we passed her, and I saw a four inch gap between edge of her sweater and the snug waistband of her jeans, the lower portion of which gave a view of her of shimmery blue panties, their elastic straining around her opulent middle. Another year of living off junk food and making excuses to avoid the gym, I mused, and Kelli might be boasting a figure like that, and I found myself surprised to discover how attractive the idea struck me.

I glanced back at my wife, half-expecting her to be glaring at me over my obviously wandering eyes, but saw that she was still intently looking towards the back of the bakery, leading me toward a table as close to the counter with such an unnaturally wide door cut into it that I wondered if this place hadn't been a mattress store or something before this. I pulled a chair out for her, again staring appraisingly as her own far-from-slender rump, mentally working out just how many pounds there were between her and the bosomy book woman up front, when I realized first, that Kelli wasn't sitting down, and second that her attention was on a booth tucked away in a dim and cozy corner of the place. She was staring, and a moment later I realized why.

If the woman near the front of the store had been buxom, the one tightly-stuffed between her bench and table was utterly voluptuous. The sleeveless red top she wore was stretched almost to transparency by breasts at least double the size of her head, her fat nipples thrusting insistently at the thin fabric in a way that made me wonder how she had dared to come out in public braless without getting in trouble with the police. Her belly so fat and round that I first imagined she must be pregnant, though the way the edge of the table dug into its expansive bulk without seeming to cause her even a hint of discomfort suggested I was wrong. She was wearing a stretchy-looking skirt, and while the lowermost regions of her belly were crammed into its waistband, quite possibly ultimately resting on the bench between her casually-widespread thighs. I couldn't see much more than that in the shadows beneath her table, though I could make out the pale outline of her bare leg below the hem of her dark skirt, below her knee and still as thick as the woman up front's thighs had been.

Several large and empty plates and dishes were carelessly arrayed on the table in front of her, and as we watched, she swallowed one last spoonful of something chocolate, gave a delighted shudder as the sound of several stitches popping echoed off the walls, and then settled down contentedly, absent-mindedly reaching slightly down the front of her skirt and appreciatively rubbing the soft-vastness of her belly, her top riding up enough to expose her navel, deep, indulgent, and all but hidden between two jigglesome rolls of fat. She glanced towards the cash register, paying us and our unmannered staring no mind.

“Chrissie!” she called out, sounding more like she was calling out to a very satisfying lover than her server for the afternoon, “I think I've had about as much as I can hold; could you bring out my check, please?”

“Coming!” replied a cheerful voice from some way back in what must have been the kitchen. The was the sharp, energetic sound of steps approaching, the door behind the counter swung open and I heard a gasp of amazement, though whether it was mine of Kelli's is something that the two of us still argue about now and then.

The girl who emerged from the back room was so spectacularly massive that for a moment, I wasn't even sure where to start staring. She was dressed up in sort of a modern red and white checkered outfit that went well with the way the rest of the place was done up, her long, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and suddenly I wasn't wondering about why the doors in this place were all so ridiculously wide. I swear, she had to weigh half a ton if she weighed an ounce.

Even with the counter between her and us she looked undeniably immense, the checked fabric of her short dress drawn tight as a drum by a bosom swollen to nearly five feet across, and impossibly round and buoyant, like a set of overinflated yoga balls. If she had deigned to lean forwards, her breasts would have covered the entire depth of the counter and probably bulged over the front lip of it by a good six inches, and despite the fact that it would have been a miracle if they only weighed a hundred pounds each, her titanic melons still bulged up pneumatically from the unfastened few buttons of her outfit, so plump and jigglesome that she probably could have motorboated herself effortlessly, and from the knowing smile she wore and the way she carried herself, I wondered how often she did.

A white apron with red trim was tied around her, though since it didn't seem to have been specifically tailored for her stunningly well-favored figure, it looked more like a small bib pulled down between her mammoth breasts. Chrissie made her way to the register, coming at it sort of sideways because her bust was quite possibly as impossible for her to reach past as it surely must have been to see around, punched a few keys, and seized the ticket it printed out with gusto a moment later, and bounced through the counter gate.

She was just as unbelievably well-favored below as she was up top. Her hips were just an inch or two less fulsome than her bust, so sumptuously wide that just hurrying across the restaurant was nearly enough to send her tumbling to the floor, their tremendous girth, tightly bound up in a skirt several sizes too small forced her into an unnatural, restricted gait, as if their sheer immensity gave every step more momentum than she could quite control. As Chrissie turned, I realized that her belly wasn't just fat, it was colossal, projecting out in front of her nearly as far as her protuberant bosom, and the only thing keeping it from jiggling like a mountain of jelly was the tantalizing tautness of her outfit.

A moment later I realized just how far out her profile extended in the other direction as well; her ass was positively gigantic, bulging out so impressively behind her that her every movement seemed to take a second to reach it, so round and fat that the hem of her dress barely covered it; just another pound or two in the right places and anyone behind her wouldn't have to guess at the color of her panties. As titanically voluptuous and overladen as she was though, Chrissie moved with practiced confidence and even gracefulness, as if she had been this huge for a long time, and was perfectly comfortable with her figure, both in simply carrying her voluptuous burdens around, and in being absolutely delighted to present herself- every last ounce- to the world.

She made her way to the booth with the full-bellied woman, drew a notepad out of her cleavage, and leaned onto the table. I heard it creaking under the weight of her breasts as she sighed with relief, revealing, in the process, more than enough of a glimpse to us standing behind her to establish that purple was the color of the day.

Remembering myself, I glanced at Kelli, expecting anything from a smoldering glare to a slap across the face, but instead I found her staring just as spellbound as the enormous waitress chatting up her customer across way. Kelli must have felt me watching; she looked at me, smiled teasingly, and slowly sat down in her chair, quickly returning her attention to the booth nearby. A moment later I followed her example, relived to be ensconced at a table where my reaction to all these spectacularly buxom women was better hidden.

“Well now, Mallory, I've got to admit, I didn't believe you when you said you were going to finish every last bite,” Chrissie said playfully, “I'd almost be tempted to say you've been slipping my cupcakes into your purse for later, but just look at that belly of yours; you're practically groaning with repletion.”

“And how could I ever disappoint you?” Mallory responded blithely, “Though I do have to admit, after the fifth dozen or so, I did begin to wonder if I was pushing myself just a bit too far. But then, I remembered you're minding this place all by yourself for a few days, and who knows what Mara would do to you if she came back to find that customers had been forcing you to throw out unfinished desserts?”

“Mmm, what indeed?” Chrissie asked, giving her opulent rump a shimmy, “When you put it that way, I'm almost tempted to find out; I'm sure whatever my punishment, it would surely lead to padding out my ample figure even more.”

“Well if next time I come in I see that you've gone up another half-dozen cup sizes, I won't even need to ask for the blow-by-blow,” Mallory said conspiratorially, “Though you know I will anyway, and not a single detail spared.”

“Shush; you're absolutely incorrigible,” Chrissie said, taking a halfhearted swipe at Mallory with her notepad, “If that's how you're going to be, then next time you come in I'm going to ask how Sasha enjoyed her first night with a four hundred pound girlfriend.”

“Oh, if you're lucky, maybe I'll bring pictures,” Mallory giggled, “But I really shouldn't keep the poor girl waiting any longer; she's been at home all afternoon fantasizing about just how enormous I'll be when I get home. Here, don't even worry about getting my change; you've earned yourself a generous tip, and if Mara decides you haven't been keeping this place in tip-top shape, you can use it to buy some new outfits once she's finished with you. Anyways, I should let you get down to giving your other customers some service; have a lovely evening, okay?”

Mallory tried, failed, and then tried twice more to heave herself out of the booth, before finally, huffing and panting she succeeded. Unlike Chrissie, who carried herself with an ease that belied her weight, she looked like she was anything but used to her controlling her body this way. She leaned needfully against every last piece of furniture within reach as she made for the door, staggering almost drunkenly, swearing quietly to herself as her well-rounded hips knocked a chair out of her way, gasping as the edge of a table caught her hard in the belly. I wondered just how much this woman had put on since she sat down; she was waddling like she had doubled in weight and in all of her more feminine dimensions in the space of a few hours, but that was impossible. The drinks list on the table caught my eye- that had to be it. No matter how much she had gorged herself today, she had doubtless already been exceedingly full-figured, and the fact that the all the empty glasses on her table looked like they had brought milkshakes instead of margaritas was hardly evidence otherwise.

I shot a glance as Kelli, who was beaming at me with a thousand watt smile, then looked back up and saw that Chrissie, smiling just as radiantly, was already halfway to our table. It was unreal watching her approach, the nearer she came the more overwhelming she seemed.

“Well, good afternoon, I'm Chrissie and I don't believe I've had the pleasure of seeing you two in here before,” she said with the air of someone used to making her customers very, very satisfied. She looked at Kelli intently, “Now, before we go any further, are you just a happy couple who ducked in off the street for a snack and a cup of coffee, or do you already know that we're a bit of a specialty shop?”

“We're moving out of town tomorrow morning,” Kelli explained, “He's only here because he likes to make me happy, but I know exactly what y'all's stock and trade is, and I want to experience everything you've got, or at least enough to keep us both nice and warm on those cold northern nights we've got ahead of us. What do you recommend?”

“Well, it's getting a little late in the day for me to really give you the works, but let me see what I might have fixed up already that will make the other girls jealous and keep someone's eyes from wandering,” Chrissie said, reaching into the cleavage and pulling out her notepad again, then learning onto our table with an exaggerated sigh, “Sorry, when a girl's got as much weight up top to carry around as I have, it's important to never pass up an opportunity to give her back a bit of a rest.”

I tried my best to look her in the eyes, but I couldn't help myself. Her breasts were practically spilling out of her top and onto the table just inches from Kelli and me, larger than yoga balls and so soft that I had to fight the compulsion to reach out and give one a squeeze, if only to prove to myself that this was real. No woman's breasts grow this gigantic. Even the most extreme implants I'd ever seen came close to the size of Chrissie's twins, and from the way they bulged against the hard table, their rondure rising and falling gently as she breathed, her skin flawless and smooth and inviting- it didn't matter how fat she was everywhere else; if women like this existed, someone would have told the world about it by now.

Kelli, moreover, seemed just as transfixed by the heavenly globes laid nearly bare before us. She stared at Chrissie's bust with an expression of- certainly not jealousy, and I don't think reverence is quite the right word either. If anything it was almost- anticipation. This was getting stranger by the second, but leaving before I found out what Kelli had in mind was the last thing I wanted to do.

“So, if I may presume to make recommendations,” Chrissie said, looking first at me and then fixing Kelli with a penetrating stare, “Might I suggest a beer for the gentleman; you strike me as the kind of man who appreciates something, hmm, full-bodied, and for you miss, well, let me just see what I've got laying around that might satisfy your appetites.”

“Yes please,” Kelli said without a moment's hesitation, “I'm sure whatever you can figure out exactly what I'm craving.”

“Alright then; you two just sit right here and I'll be back in a jiffy,” Chrissie said, turning as she stepped away so that she just barely grazed the edge of our table with her lusciously overfed bottom, before calling over her shoulder to Kelli, “Oh, excuse me; I guess there's just so much of me I still don't know how far I out go sometimes. Not that you'd need to know anything about that.”

“Okay, what's going on here?” I asked Kelli as soon as Chrissie disappeared into the kitchen, “Is this some kind of bakery just for fat women or something?”

“Mmm, and what if it is?” Kelli asked, having seen far too much of my reaction in the last few minutes for her to have any doubts about how I felt about such things, “I mean, I've been living off of cheap junk for months and I've put on like, thirty pounds. I figure I at least owe myself some real top-quality junk before we leave town.”

“I thought you were all gung-ho to join a gym or take up jogging or something once we get moved in,” I said carefully, sure that she was playing with me, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Well, maybe whether I do or don't is going to depend on you,” she said, casting me an appraising eye, “What do you think of our friend up by the window with the trashy romance novel and the sweater full of tits?”

“Oh, um, her?” I asked, glancing casually towards the only other customer in the place as if I had only just noticed her existence, “I don't know, I guess she's, you know, kind of cute, if you think so.”

“Yeah, I wonder how much tighter those jeans of hers can get before she splits her seams,” Kelli mused furtively, “I almost want to order her a whole platter of something really rich and then just wait and see if we can hear the stitches popping from all the way over here- don't you think that would be fun?”

“Well,” I said, trying to be as cagey as possible, “I mean, if you want to, I'm just here to make sure our last night here in town is special, so I'm not going to try to talk you out of it.”

“Okay, and what about our friend in the booth over there who just left, with those thick arms of hers spreading out against that red top and fifty pounds of belly more than her skirt could hold?”

“I dunno,” I began feeling increasingly sure that this was going to culminate in revenge for all my less-than-subtle staring, “I think she knows what looks good on her better than I do and you know, it's kind of nice seeing a woman with a bit of a fuller figure not feeling like she needs to dress like she's ashamed of her body, I guess?”

“Oh, don't be coy, you're no good at it,” Kelli said knowingly, leaning in across the table, “Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy spending a little time alone with a woman whose tits were bigger than her head, listening to them slap against her body while you fucked her. And that belly- you've been showing mine all sorts of attention lately and I'm just a little on the chubby side; I bet it makes you hard just thinking of sinking your fingers into a soft, indulgent tummy like hers and just fondling all that fat until you're ready to come.”

“Well, I like you because you're you,” I insisted lamely, “And, well, I mean guess a woman with a figure like that would be something kind of different, but if that's all I wanted we wouldn't be married, I wouldn't be all excited about starting fresh in a new city and doing all that together with you.”

“Okay, here's your drinks; everything else will be out in just a sec,” Chrissie said brightly, appearing from nowhere and plunking down a bottle of some local craft brew in front of me and a milkshake in front of Kelli in a glass that looked like it had to contain at least a gallon of strawberry ice cream and cold milk, “Don't mind me; you just carry right on with your romantic little conversation. Oh, don't let me forget to pop that open for you before I leave.”

With a dramatic flourish Chrissie reached into the depths of cleavage, nearly up to her plump elbow, before finally drawing out a bottle opener, leaning over the table so far that her breasts threatened to burst free from the confinement of her top, knocking over the bottle and giving me a face full of her mammoth mammaries. They jiggled energetically as she grunted with exaggerated effort as she opened the bottle, giving a shiver of surprise as the cap popped off and a spritz of foam sprayed against her exposed flesh. Chrissie gave a self-assured smile and headed back to the kitchen, while Kelli smiled at me wickedly.

“And what about our ever-so-attentive waitress here?” Kelli asked, resuming her inquisition, “Where do you even start with that much woman? Well, I know where you'd start; it was written all over your face while she was fishing around inside her cleavage to open your beer. I bet that right now you're thinking of sticking your cock right between her tits and just going to town until every last inch of her chest is hot and sticky, aren't you? But that's just the obvious place to start, isn't it? You've always loved taking me from behind when I'm in the mood for it; can you imagine trying that with a woman like her? Even down on her hands and knees, I bet she can just let go and lay on her tits like her own personal waterbed- wouldn't you love to see them quivering helplessly while you rode her? Her belly must spread out nearly as wide when she's in the right position; I bet if she could actually force those huge thighs of hers apart wide enough, you could feel it slapping against your legs as you pounded her. And those hips; do you think you could even hold on to her like that while you were pumping her full of cum, if you weren't playing with those obscenely overfattened melons of hers, you'd probably just have to bury your hands between her rolls and try to hold on to her waist, if you could even find it. And that's not even the million dollar question: how do you even inside a woman with an ass like that? I mean, I'm sure once you get her out of those clothes she's as soft and pliable as Jello; but you'd still have to go hard if you wanted to get through all that fat and actually give her what a girl really wants. Well, maybe not as much as some guys would have to try; I know you've got more than enough to get the job done. Would you feel good doing that, taking a woman like her and just fucking her until she was whimpering for mercy, making her come, making her quiver until neither of you could get out of bed the next day and all she could manage in the morning was to roll over, bury your legs under her monster tits, and suck your dick while you tugged on her nipples just to get her all turned on and frustrated, until she was begging you for more even though she was already so sore she could barely move. Don't you dare tell me you wouldn't jump at a chance for that.”

“Okay, okay, I- well, I'm not going to pretend like I didn't notice her- I mean, geez, I'd have to be blind to miss all of that, and it's not like I begged her to slap her boobs down on the table, so don't make me the bad guy here,” I protested, “What's gotten into you anyways? You usually don't get all dirty like this until you've had a few drinks and we're alone together; what gives?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad,” Kelli apologized, taking a long drink from her milkshake, draining half the tall glass as I watched, “I just, well, I guess I just wanted to make sure that you were really into this kind of thing before I went and did anything- well, anything that I won't be able to take back later.”

“It's okay, I know you've been stressed with school and moving and everything too,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand, “You're just acting like- I dunno- like I keep expecting any moment that someone is about to pop up and shout 'Surprise!', but I still can't figure out what the surprise even is.”

“Well, since I'm more than satisfied that I've made the right decision, one that's going to make both of us very happy, I might as well tell you,” Kelli said enigmatically, before taking the thick straw in her mouth and sucking down the rest of her milkshake as she silently smiled at me, “Or maybe showing you would be more fun.”

And with that, she shoved the empty glass across the table towards me, sat up straight in her seat, shoulders back and eyes twinkling, and shot me an expectant look. A split-second later I realized what was happening, and I nearly fell out of my chair.

“Holy cow, Kelli,” I stammered, “Your boobs- they're- they're bigger!”

“Mmm, aren't they though,” Kelli murmured with pride as she cupped them in her hands and gave herself a calculating squeeze that made them bulge sensually from the confines of her suddenly-outgrown bra, “I think I'm at least a D-cup now, don't you agree?”

“I'd say you're probably ready to fill out an E,” Chrissie said, once more appearing with remarkable abruptness and laying a tray of a dozen muffins, each one too large for Kelli to hold with one hand and all of different varieties, in front of my wife, whose eyes went wide as she contemplated the feast laid out before her, “Though I'd advise you not to go out shopping for new bras just yet; even a few bites of these will send those nice little handfuls of yours skyrocketing through the alphabet fast enough to make your head spin.”

“Wait, so you mean that the food here is that fattening?” I asked, my disbelief checked by the fact that Kelli's white blouse was considerably more snug than it had been a minute ago and she really did look like she had gained at least a few new inches of bustline since she started in on her milkshake, “So that woman who could barely stand up earlier really did gain all that weight just now while she was here?”

“Well, at least three hundred pounds or so of it,” Chrissie said with a laugh, “When she came in she was actually just about the same size as your girl here. Of course, she knew what she was doing- when she came in those clothes were practically falling off of her so she'd be decent, barely, to get home by herself. But why are you wasting your time talking with me? I think your attention would be better spent attending to this lovely lady right here.”

I looked back to Kelli, and she was already several bites into the first muffin, a huge chocolate affair with king-size Hershey kisses instead of chips dotting its surface. Kelli gave me the most seductive look and took a huge mouthful of it, crumbs cascading down the front of her shirt. Her breasts fattened and grew as I watched, dumbstruck, swelling out of her bra like rising bread until they were nearly twice a full as they had been just a few minutes ago. Beaming with satisfaction, she took a deep breath, and I heard her cups straining to endure the growing load she had saddled them with. Playfully, Kelli pulled an empty chair closer to her side and patted it invitingly.

“Why don't you come over here and feed me?” She asked innocently, “There's no reason I should have to do all the work here. Besides, I think you'll enjoy the show more if you've got a better seat- and speaking of which, see what you're missing all the way over on your side of the table?”

Kelli stood up. I felt dizzy. It wasn't just her breasts, she was filling out everywhere. Her once-modest little belly now bulged with at least another fifteen pounds of fat, and her hips, which had never been particularly curvy before, now flared out slightly, but ever so suggestively broader than her waist. Slowly, indulgently, she lifted her arms over her head- how could I have missed noticing how much thicker they had already become?- and gave a slow turn. Her butt was incredible. It wasn't just that it was growing too, but for the first time since we'd met it didn't look like it had mostly been shaped by the confines of an office chair. Now she was round and plump back there, looking from this angle less like a grad student with a penchant for junk food and more like an extra from a Sir Mix-a-Lot video.

By the time she was back in her seat, I was already at her side, another muffin already in-hand. As she plopped her shapely rump into the chair, she leaned forward and practically buried her face in the muffin, biting off more than I would have imagined she could fit in her mouth. She leaned back, savoring every moment of this as she lazily chewed and swallowed. It was like an entire six-hour Thanksgiving feast was packed into that one nourishing mouthful, her belly forcing the gap between her skirt and top to open wider, her hips inching slightly closer to the edges of her broad seat, her breasts quavering with gentle insistence as they swelled, her cherry-colored areolae peeking above her meager cups and all too easy to see as her shirt was stretched out further and further to contain her ballooning endowments.

“Mmm, enjoying the show?” Kelli asked, endlessly pleased at the sight of me so enthralled with her expanding figure, “Aren't you happy I called you over here for a front row seat?”

“Do you even have to ask?” I said, mesmerized as she picked up one of the few remaining chunks of the muffin and popped it into her mouth, “I guess I'm just wondering whether this is just the first act or whether you're getting close to the climax already?”

“Climax, here in the bakery in front of Chrissie and everything? You dirty boy,” Kelli scolded me, wagging a finger in my direction and showing that her arms had just the slightest hint of a jiggle now, “That's for when we get home tonight, of course, though you might be able to talk me into some rising action on the way back if you can find a quiet place for the van to pull off. But to answer your question, as far as I'm concerned, this is still just the overture.”

“Well, if that's what you've got your heart set on, you'd better pace yourself,” I said, hefting the muffin I held and marveling at how unnaturally dense it felt, “Here, why don't you just sit back and let me feed you for a little while?”

“Oh, please do,” Kelli breathed, leaning back in her chair, eyes closed and mouth open wide and waiting as I broke off a decent chunk of the muffin, this one was blueberry, and carefully pushed it past her lips.

She murmured pleasure as I fed her, shuddering with little tremors of bliss as every swallow rendered her more voluptuous. Kelli chewed; I could hear the elastic of her skirt-band gently stretching as her belly grew fuller. She swallowed; the top button of her blouse burst off and ricocheted off the table before rolling away into some distant corner of the shop, as I gazed in wonder at the lush vista of cleavage Kelli's expanding dimensions had laid partly bare. I wanted more; I wanted to see her bustline swell until it tore her top to shreds. I wanted to see her breasts, naked and pale, quivering submissively as they were glutted with flesh, so huge they rested on the table before her, so heavy that they slapped against her thighs, her belly when she finally, stuffed to the very limit, reluctantly pushed herself away from the table. I couldn't wait; I pushed another third of the muffin into her mouth. For a moment I worried I had given her too much at once; Kelli kind of gagged a little, surprised to find her mouth so full, but a moment later she gave a sigh of longing and began to swallow it down as fast as she could chew.

As she ate, her belly began to bulge out over the top of her skirt, just a couple of inches at first, but tantalizing to behold. I reached down with my free hand and gave it a squeeze, that ripening crescent of self-indulgence that spread from one hip to her other. She was soft; I could already just sink my fingers into the yielding burgeoning richness of her middle, and she trembled at my touch, a quiet cry catching in her dessert-crammed throat. She swallowed the last of it down, her bosom developing as if she were pregnant and all the maternal gains of that condition were being forced upon her body in the span of a few minutes. Her breasts became more alluring enlarged, rising higher and higher out of her cups, until with a jolt they popped out of her bra entirely, leaving it little more than a band wrapped around her chest, serving no purpose beyond making her breasts push against the confinement of her blouse a little more insistently, and digging in against her sides where I could see that Kelli was beginning to develop nascent rolls of fat.

She opened her mouth again; I still held nearly half the blueberry muffin. I didn't hesitate, and plunged the entire thing beyond her waiting lips. This time she was ready.

Kelli moaned sensually, staring at me lustfully as she bolted the mouthful down as fast as she was able. Her breasts, already larger than cantaloupes, swelled in response, her blouse constricting tighter and tighter around their fattening girth until I wondered how she was able to even breathe. A moment later the problem took care of itself as Pop!, another button shot across the table, permitting her bust to expand comfortably outwards, her cleavage deepening, and her entire bosom wobbling enticingly as the bulk of her breasts settled in a couple inches lower than before, now nearly resting against the upper reaches of her indulgent belly.

As if in sympathy with its neighbor to the north, there was a loud snap as the lowest button on Kelli's blouse gave way as well, her blossoming belly taking advantage of this new freedom to advance further out onto her lap, the waistband of her skirt now completely hidden beneath its supple and ever-growing weight. As she gasped and choked on her mouthful, Kelli's hands shot to her bare midriff, eagerly kneading its pliant burden, as she shuddered as if she were already on the brink of climax. Her belly was rising, I realized, not only due to its own growth, but because her thighs were thickening beneath it, becoming sleek and fat as whatever power imbued Chrissie's cooking forced them to accept their just share of added weight.

I picked up a third muffin, this one dripping with some kind of caramel, in anticipation for the very second that Kelli swallowed the last of her present morsel. She was already more delectably buxom than anything I had ever dared to dream she might become, and if this was after only two muffins, how spectacularly voluptuous would she be after supplementing her figure with the eight more that yet remained for her enjoyment? Just how impossibly womanly, how sensually immense would she be by the time we left tonight? Surely Kelli would burst out of her top entirely before long, maybe even before she was done with the very treat I held in my hand; after ten like this though, just how busty would she be? I tried to imagine her with breasts bigger than her head, then bigger than beachballs, quivering naked and ponderous as she crammed down the last bite, and my imagination failed me. I tried to envision her with hips twice as broad as her shoulders, her ass so supremely overfattened that it stuck out like a shelf behind her, jiggling and swaying seductively with every awkward step she took. And her belly, just how big was Kelli going to get in front? Was she going to waddle out of here looking like she was merely nine months pregnant with twins, or was she going to end up like some of those girls I'd seen online from time to time, with a belly so indecently lavish that it filled her lap completely when she sat down, and hung nearly to her knees when she stood?

I knew that Kelli could gain every last ounce of that, and I'd only want her more, but for a brief moment, I wondered if that was really what she wanted too. Sure, I knew right now she wanted to gain weight, and so far the results were absolutely stunning, but then again I imagined that she couldn't possibly be much over two hundred pounds right now, not waifishly thin, to be sure, but hardly unnatural, especially for a girl as tall as her. Would she be so eager to keep lading it on as that number grew though? No matter how sublimely proportioned Kelli remained, would she still be begging for more as she passed three hundred pounds? As tall as she was, at four hundred pounds she would have to expect people to stare and whisper when she went out in public, especially since she was on track to have a figure like someone's demented dream of a living fertility idol. Five hundred pounds, and she'd be gigantic. It made my heart pound just to imagine her that huge, thinking of walking in on her in the shower at that size, or stepping into the kitchen to find her in a pair of too-tight panties as an undersized apron as she cooked up breakfast for us. Six hundred pounds, was it even possible? If Kelli managed to stuff down every last crumb on the table could she really end up that massive? Would we have to get our apartment specially redone just so she could fit through the doors at that size? I thought about waking up in the middle of the night to the voice of my wife begging for my touch, her breasts swollen to obscene dimensions, her opulent hips spreading wide across the sagging mattress, her plush belly rolling and bouncing like a stormy sea from the moment I entered her until long after I shot myself inside her and we both lay there, hot, exhausted and satisfied.

I knew what I wanted. If we had been alone, I think I might have even been willing to wait to fatten Kelli up even more just for the pleasure of having her right here, right now, but was I forcing her to go along with all this just to slake my own desires? My answer wasn't long in coming. Kelli swallowed the last bit she had been working on, her rosy areolae beginning to peek out from her overburdened blouse as the gap down its middle steadily widened.

“Ooh, that's it, feed me hard; don't wait for me to swallow, just force it down my throat!” she moaned, grabbing at my wrist and pulling the next muffin closer, “Come on, don't be gentle; show me that you want this as much a I do, that you can't wait to have me as fat and curvy and willing as I can possibly get; I don't want my mouth to be empty enough for me to say another word until you've stuffed me with every bite on this table and this chair is ready to collapse under me!”

I didn't need more convincing than that; I raised my hand and crammed the muffin I held into her mouth. Crumbs tumbled across the tablecloth as I forced it into her mouth, and large, sticky drops of caramel fell thick and rich into Kelli's ripening cleavage as she surrendered any fealty to good manners and simply ate as if her life depended on inhaling every last bite as gluttonously as possible. Even as she chocked and gagged at the huge mouthful, I could tell she was determined to gorge herself as hard as humanly possible; I could hear the seams of her top creaking as every last calorie she consumed instantly added to her burgeoning voluptuousness. Her belly, indulgently soft and jiggly, poured past the overtaxed waistband of her skirt, her navel lost in the deep roll forming and deepening across her lush middle, while the dark material that barely contained her modesty below the waist stretched farther and farther, it's color fading to tan as Kelli's thighs thickened, her hips broadening until they spread broad enough at last to fill the generously-proportioned chair in which she sat.

Kelli swallowed it down as fast as she could; I was amazed she was even able to breathe, not only due to how obsessed she was with eating, but because the weight of her chest was plainly increasing at a scandalous rate. Kelli's breasts were blowing up like balloons; every time she swallowed the seemed to gain another cup size, expanding from overflowing handfuls to plumped-up udders the size of her head, two more buttons bursting off her blouse in less than a minute, the remaining dew that held her top closed now buried between her bosom and belly as her top took on the look of something worn by a plus-sized porn star playing the part of a prodigiously well-endowed secretary, her breasts bulging out wider than her chest, piling up in the restrictive confines of her blouse until their quivering upper hemispheres rose higher than her collarbone.

I pushed the last chunk of muffin into her, and Kelli shuddered with satisfaction, her arms now so plump that her short sleeves clung to her like overstuffed sausage casings, the way her arms bulged out just beyond their ends suggesting that the moment she was freed from their constrictive embrace, she was likely to gain several more inches of padding there, and quite possibly more. She moaned softly as she swallowed, as if it was all she could do to keep herself from ripping off her skirt and finding out how best to reach the swelling tenderness between her fattening thighs, or perhaps just stripping down until she was naked, and throwing herself, naked, willing and expectant onto the table, desperate for me to ravish her. She wanted to be bigger though, softer, heavier, fatter, whatever pleasures her recently-won shapeliness might hold, Kelli labored in hope of far more impressive wages in return for her devotion to gluttony.

The last bite vanished down Kelli's throat as she licked her lips, craving every last crumb that might further feed her expanding figure, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking at me with satisfaction commingled with insatiable desire.

“Oh, but you know how to show a girl a good time; I only hope you can keep that up once we're back at our place later tonight,” Kelli teased, “So, before you stuff me with the rest of these and really give me the kind of body that can keep a fella warm at night in those long norther winters, how about a little glimpse at just what all your hard work has accomplished so far?”

She didn't need to wait for my answer; Kelli already knew me too well for that. With a lascivious smile, she pushed her seat away from the table, stood up, looking for one tantalizing moment like all the weight she'd put on was going to sent her toppling right over, boobs-first into the table, and then tentatively placing one of her feet on the chair, leaning over it as she reached for the hem of her skirt.

“I know you've already gotten more than an eyeful of how big and fat my breasts are getting, though believe me, you'll be seeing vastly more impressive mountains and valleys than that by the time the night is over,” Kelli teased, “And I'm sure you've noticed the plump little belly of mine you've enjoyed playing with these last few months has grown to such delectable proportions while you've been stuffing me nearly too fast for me to handle, but maybe you'd like a little sneak preview of some of what you haven't gotten a good look at since I sat down at this table.”

She leaned forwards, her ass jutting out behind her enticingly; I had known Kelli was fattening up back there just like she was everywhere else, but this exceeded my wildest expectations. Her thick hips pushed out wider than her shoulders, and her ass was so huge that I could see her panties through the overstretched fabric of her skirt, round and jiggly even imprisoned within her too-small clothes. Kelli smiled, grabbing the hem of her skirt and hiking it up, her full breasts weighing heavily against her lush thigh, her breath catching in her throat as her fat belly rubbed against it.

As she pulled up her skirt, Kelli revealed a pair of legs almost too voluptuous to believe, her calves fattening up dramatically as they rose towards her knees, already thicker than her thighs had been just an hour before. She puffed and panted as she hiked her skirt past her knee; it was awfully tight already, and bent over like she was, Kelli was having trouble breathing. The way she gasped for breath was strangely arousing; as for much weight as she had gained already, she couldn't possibly have been more than two hundred fifty pounds; and I could just imagine her by the time she'd truly had her fill tipping the scale at double- no, triple her present size- so helplessly voluptuous that just getting from the bedroom to the kitchen and back would leave her exhausted and out of breath, nearly trapped in bed, every last shred of clothing stripped off to help keep cool, naked, chest heaving, and desperate for my touch.

Kelli managed to work her skirt up a little higher; I could hear stitches snapping in protest as she bared an ever-growing vista of her exquisitely-bolstered figure. Her thighs were spectacular; nowhere near as immense as Chrissie's, to be sure, but at least twice as broad as I remembered, sleek, pale, and, from the way that Kelli's gripping fingers sank into their surface, soft and pliable in the extreme.

“Mmm, so- do you- like what you've seen so far?” Kelli asked flirtatiously, struggling still to catch her breath, “If my skirt weren't quite so tight- ooh, I could really give you a show- but that'll just have to wait until later- whether that means back at the apartment- or just until you feed me enough to make be explode out of my clothes- is going to be up to you-”

I could hardly wait. I reached for another muffin, imagining Kelli growing fatter and fatter until she really did burst out of her clothes, pale, shivering, and ready, when I was distracted by the sound of heavy footsteps against the tile floor as Chrissie sauntered up to our table.

“Well, has everything been satisfactory tonight?” she asked solicitously, reaching into her cleavage and producing a notepad and pen, “Would you like me to run off and fetch you a box to take the rest of that home in while you're getting your wallet out? I promise everything we bake will be every bit as potent tomorrow morning as it is tonight.”

“What? Sorry, no, we're not getting up to leave just yet,” Kelli hastily assured her, trying to readjust her skirt for a bit more modesty and plopping herself down in her chair, “I was just, um, you know, showing off what your cooking can do for a girl's figure; I was thinking we'd be at least another hour before we're ready for the check. That's okay right? I mean, you've got plenty of tables open still; if you've got some kind of rule about it I can totally order a cup of coffee or maybe a pie or two.”

“It's not that at all,” Chrissie said with an indulgent smile as she gestured towards the rest of the bakery, which was quite empty except for us, “It's just that we close a little early when my boss, Mara, is out of town and I've got the whole place to run all by myself, and it's time for me to shut the place down for the night. Sorry, I try to get the word out on Facebook and everything for all our regulars, but there are usually one or two newbies that don't get the news in time. We'll be open tomorrow in time for lunch, I promise. And besides, if you take home the rest of those muffins and eat them, I bet you'll put on at least another two hundred pounds- maybe two fifty- in all the most delightful places.”

“Wait, we're moving away tomorrow morning,” Kelli pleaded, “I don't know when we'll be back and we- I don't think I can force myself to leave after just having tasted everything you have to offer. Do you have anything you're just going to throw out tonight? I'll pay full price for it if you let us take it home, just as long as it works like these muffins do.”

“Oh, sweetie, I'm afraid I didn't whip up quite my usual supply since I knew we'd be closing down early,” Chrissie explained sympathetically, “I mean, I might have a few things back in the fridge that I could wrap up for you, but I've got a feeling you're craving a bit more than just that tonight.”

“Yes, please,” Kelli insisted, rising to her feet and looking Chrissie deep in the eye, barely an inch between their chests, “I know this probably sounds crazy, but ever since I heard of you, or this place, I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I want to gain more- I need it- I don't think I can be satisfied until I'm every inch as gorgeously self-indulgent as you!”

“And you want to gain that much weight all in one evening?” Chrissie said, stepping back with a nervous giggle, though something in her voice held an echo of respect, “Not a lot of girls can handle that much all in one sitting, and I don't have nearly enough in the larder to fill you up to my size, but I do enjoy watching a woman test herself, and I guess I'll be here for another hour or so anyway cleaning out the crème tank anyway- Oh! Hang on a second-”

“Why? What is it?” Kelli asked eagerly.

“Just an idea, if you're up for it,” Chrissie said with a smile, “I might be able to help you get a bit more buxom tonight after all, if you're feeling adventurous.”

“Oh, yes, anything you tell me to do,” Kelli agreed, almost too enthusiastically.

“And how about you?” Chrissie said, turning her attention towards me, “Do you trust me to take good care of your little wife here and return her to you in a condition that both of you will be pleased with, even if it does take some growing used to?”

“I just support whatever she wants to do if it makes her happy,” I said, before Chrissie's piercing stare compelled me to be more forthcoming, “And yeah, not to sound weird or anything, but if Kelli walks out of here even half the size you are, that would be pretty incredible.”

“Well then, it's settled,” Chrissie said, like genie preparing to grant an unusually large wish, “You come with me and we'll see just how much of your fantasy I can fulfill in the next hour or so, and you, just wait here; there are some things that us girls need a little privacy to work on properly. Try to be patient; I promise she'll be worth the wait.”