"I don't think I've eaten this much at one sitting in years," Lisha said, when her head had cleared enough for her to look around at her companions, lazily rubbing their outspread palms over their balloon-like bellies. "Yeah," Elinor replied, her eyes still closed, "it's been DAYS since I've done it." Simon laughed, saying "How else could we keep up these girlish figures?" "And, speaking of girlish figures and tabloids and such," Elinor said to Simon, "I'm sure that our gluttonous little friend here is going to be going on a diet and cursing our names bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Maybe not," Lisha said. "After all, if I'm just going to be 'approaching my full potential' with fifty more pounds, I've gotta get cracking!" They gave each other a raised-eyebrow glance, and Elinor said to Simon, "You've gotta watch out for this one -- she's got a little bit of that danger-thing going." She turned to Lisha and continued, "And what about your career, honey? Fifty pounds might make Simon all hot for you, but what about the rest of the world?" "Oh, they'll come along... eventually." Elinor laughed and Lisha abandoned all pretense of surreptitiousness as she watched the ripples of laughter roll like waves through the sea of belly-flesh. Simon said to her, "You like that, huh?" "I'm finding this very strange," Lisha answered, "but, Yes! I think Elinor has a very beautiful and very sexy body." "You've been staring at my stomach -- would you like to touch it?" Elinor asked. "I would," Lisha answered, laughing, "but I don't think I can get myself out of this chair!"

She struggled a little, but managed to heave herself upright, groaning as she suddenly felt the weight of all the food in her own distended stomach. She walked over to Elinor's chair and kneeled down next to her, feeling the skin of her palms flushing with warmth as she touched the soft skin; the sudden shiver that went up Elinor's spine as Lisha's hands made contact radiated through the soft flesh and right through both of their bodies. The huge woman's eyes were closed and her head hung back over the top of the chair as Lisha's hands explored the fleshy landscape and traced the complex stretch marks. She stroked and massaged, squeezing the enormous love handles together and watching the blubber mound up even higher at the belly button, then let go and felt gravity take control. She pressed her cheek against the rolls of flesh, and as she traced one of the deep creases with her tongue, she felt the thrust of Elinor's hips and the spreading apart of her massive thighs, and then -- suddenly, Elinor's hands were pushing on her shoulders, saying, "Lisha, I think we have to stop."

Lisha pulled herself away slowly, tickling Elinor's stomach with one last brush of her silky hair, then stood up, purposefully rubbing her own round little belly against the other woman's hip. Elinor reached her hand out and gently brushed Lisha's chunky rear, then looked the younger woman in the eye and said, "I couldn't let it go any further than that... I wanted to, but..."

Through the sudden tension and intensity Lisha realized that the whole incident had taken quite a while, and during that time, Simon had said nothing -- done nothing, except stare intently -- at what? A jealousy-inducing situation? A violation of the rules of politeness? He swallowed deeply and when he finally let out the breath he'd been holding in and spoke, his voice was somewhat throaty, saying, "That was one of the most erotic scenes I have ever witnessed. I think I need to take a cold shower!" The laughter broke the tension, and Lisha sat back down, her final glance interrupted by Elinor closing her blouse, then standing up and pulling off her capri pants, balancing on one thick leg at a time. "Okay," she said, breathing a little heavily from the exertion, "modesty and politeness are right out the window, so feel free to let it all hang out! Now: who wants dessert?"

Simon's hand went up immediately, while he said, "Erotic things make me hungry!" "Everything makes you hungry," Elinor snapped back, then turned to Lisha, who hesitated at first, then looked her right in the eye and said, "I'm not sure if 'hungry' is the exact word I'd use, but -- it works." Elinor swallowed nervously, her hand making its own way underneath the tails of the long shirt, then coming to rest at the crest of her stomach mound. "Well, okay," she said, "I guess it's three desserts coming up," then disappeared into the part of the kitchen out of Lisha's direct view. Simon talked a little about how wonderful the dinner had been and what an exciting and interesting evening it'd been so far; Lisha responded politely, but her real attention was on the reflection of the kitchen visible in the window glass. She could see Elinor leaning back against the refrigerator door, one hand slowly rubbing her distended stomach, the other busying itself beneath the waistband of her panties. When the time elapsed had strayed into that uncomfortable too-long territory, Simon, whose sightline didn't permit him a view of the scene or the reflection called to her, saying, "Elinor? Is everything okay? Do you need a hand?" "Nope," she answered, forcing herself to do what she'd come in there for, "I'll be right out."

She came in, carrying a platter with a powdered-sugar-dusted creation and a pastry bag, a pie server, a carton of vanilla ice cream and three plates and forks and spoons. "It took so long because I was looking for a more elegant way to serve this," she lied, "but I decided, why stand on ceremony when we're all already half-naked?" She cut a sixth of the pie for each plate, then dished out a couple of large scoops of ice cream and topped each creation with a piping of creamy something from the pastry bag. "What is it?" Lisha asked, barely able to wait for the plate to be passed to her before digging in, the already-distressed condition of her stomach seemingly forgotten. It's an Italian ricotta cheesecake -- made with ricotta from that cheese shop --, home-made ice cream -- with fresh cream from the same place -- and cannoli cream topping with some more of that ricotta and a generous portion of rum. There was a round of moans of enjoyment as forks clicked against ceramic, and without even asking, Elinor dished out the remainder of the dessert onto each plate as they finished.

Lisha ate rapidly, shoveling the creamy concoction into her waiting mouth as quickly as she could, telling herself that if she ate it fast enough, it'd all be in her stomach before her already stuffed-to-bursting body could protest. And sure enough -- barely a second after she'd finished gorging on every last crumb of the sinfully rich treat -- she suddenly felt terribly dizzy, her breath became short , and her face grew seriously flushed. "Are you okay?" Simon asked, his mouth still full of cake. Elinor stood up surprisingly quickly for her bulk, saying, "Simon, help me. I think she'd better lay down." He came over and scooped her up as if she were made of air, carrying her first into the living room, then, on Elinor's statement that maybe some fresh air would help, too, he turned around and carried her out to one of the lounge chairs on the deck. They both kneeled down next to her, and Lisha felt great gratitude for their genuine concern. Elinor shook her head, saying, "You silly girl -- you can't eat as much as a couple of 300-pounders and expect to just handle it." Right," Simon joked. "It takes YEARS of practice!"

He had grabbed a napkin from the bar, wrapped a couple of ice cubes inside it and was gently rubbing it against her forehead; Elinor, meanwhile was absent-mindedly running her hand down Lisha's side; when she realized what she was doing, she went to pull her hand away, but Lisha grabbed it and pressed it against her inflated skin, feeling erotic tingles wherever she touched. Lisha's stomach was in turmoil from the gargantuan portions she'd consumed, but the pressure of Elinor's hand didn't add to the discomfort -- rather, it set a fire between her thighs, one which grew with every stroke and every bit of herculean effort it required for her not to give Elinor a hint of the impending ecstasy. Finally, when she couldn't control her orgasm any longer, she held every muscle in her body rigid and then gave into it; the labor of hiding every twitch and shiver and thrust of her groin only intensified the roaring in her ears and the sparkles before her eyes and the sensory overload inside her head and her pussy.

The first thing she heard clearly after the conflagration had cooled down was Elinor saying, "I don't know, but she's all twitchy -- I think she might throw up. Get a pail or something." She smiled inside, realizing that Elinor couldn't be further from the truth; in fact, at some point during her orgasm, the pain in her stomach had died down and she actually felt like her face was a little cooler. She opened her eyes and smiled into Elinor's face, just inches from her own. "Just rest a little," Elinor said, reminding Lisha of her mother during the countless times she'd been sick as a child -- more than a couple of which were due to overeating. "I think I'm gonna be okay," Lisha got out. "If you have to throw up..." "That would be the ultimate insult, wouldn't it?" Lisha said, grinning weakly. "Even if it were, it's been more than balanced by some wonderful compliments you've paid me this evening," Elinor replied very seriously.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Lisha had regained enough of herself to stand up and thank Elinor and Simon and make her way back across the sand, carrying her skirt over her arm. They were still on their deck waving as she climbed the outside steps to the third-story bedroom. She couldn't wait to strip off her remaining clothes, then run into the bathroom and inspect her bloated belly from every angle in the bathroom mirrors. My gut looks like I swallowed a beachball, she thought as she ran her hands all over its smooth slope, feeling the hardness beneath the gentle layers of softness, and remembering every instant of her exploration of Elinor's gigantic stomach.

She went downstairs a few minutes later for a glass of spring water to wet her parched throat, and couldn't help but see Elinor alone in her kitchen, cleaning up. Her huge neighbor, too was nude, which was pretty handy, since the strands of linguine she was feeding herself while getting ready to toss out the leftovers were dripping their sauce on her fat boobs and would have ruined any blouse she might have been wearing. Lisha watched, mesmerized by the swaying pendulum motions of the pasta and the blubber, until, after a couple of minutes, Elinor gave up on the pasta and retrieved from the refrigerator a twin of the dessert they'd all consumed. She'd just decorated it with the cannoli cream, when Simon came tiptoeing into the room, and surprised her by grabbing her around the waist from the rear.

If you've got any comments or criticisms, you can post them on the WeightBoard or e-mail me at: melaniebel@aol.com.

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