# After Dinner - by Big Beautiful Dreamer (~BHM, Dining, ~SWG)



## WG Story Drone (Oct 27, 2005)

_*BHM, Dining, WG:* A brief but neat after-dinner vignette from the Weight Room mailbag . . ._

*AFTER DINNER*
*By Big Beautiful Dreamer*​
"Oooooohhhhhhhhh." Rob slowly and carefully lowered himself into the driver's seat.

"What's the matter?" Justine asked. She reclined her seat and put on her sunglasses for the drive home.

Rob didn't answer right away. He was still struggling with the seat belt. Funny, it had never gotten hung up before ... there. With a last push, he clicked it into place, trying to ignore the fact that it now was pulled so tight that it sliced into him. He started to bend over to pull the seat forward, then changed his mind. The steering wheel was closer than it used to be. And, somehow, he didn't quite feel up to bending over.

"What's the matter?" Justine repeated, as Rob pulled the car away from the curb. 

"I know," said Tony, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. "Rob likes Mama's cooking." Leaning back, he patted his own stomach and belched loudly. Tony's wife, Ashley, shot him a look of mock exasperation. "You do too, you pig," she said affectionately, swatting his belly.

"It wasn't ... all ... my (hic!) decision," Rob puffed. When had he become so short of breath? Rob paused, breathing heavily for a minute. "You know," he continued, "I love your ... mama ... but ... (hic!) when it comes ... to food ... she is an ... (hic!) irre (hic!) ... irresistible force." He belched, as if for emphasis.

"That's true," Ashley said. "Her mindset is that all men are just growing boys." 

"Oh, I'm growing," Tony said. He winked hugely at Ashley and patted his swollen stomach. 

Rob stifled a burp. Wow! That hurt. "Next time, I'll just let it out," he thought. 

"How much did you eat?" Justine asked.

"Ooh," Rob groaned. "So much (hic!)." He pressed a hand to his formerly flat stomach. Flat! Ha. It was aching and tautly swollen. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat and moaned as the huge load of food in his distended belly sloshed heavily. 

"She," (no need to specify who "she" was - Tony's mama) "heaped up my plate as though (hic!) I hadn't eaten in a week." He burped. "I ate it all, like a good guest. (Hic!) I think she piled my plate up (hic!) three times." He stopped to pant for breath. "Every time (burrrrrp) I breathe," he gasped, "it hurts ... feel like ... I'm gonna ... pop (hic!)."

"After dinner," Rob continued, "Mama brings out dessert. I think I ate half the pie."

"I got the other half," Tony threw in. He burped for emphasis.

"Ohhh ... urrrrp ..." Rob pulled the car over. He belched again.

"Sweetie! What is it?"

"You better drive," Rob managed. "I don't ... (hic!) ... don't feel so good."

It was true. Even as he was eating, he could steadily feel his stomach expanding. By halfway through dinner, it was not just his formerly fist-sized stomach but his whole belly, which was swelling up as though someone were filling up a balloon. With every movement, his distended midriff jerked, and it hurt. In slow motion, he levered himself out of the car and wobbled around to the passenger's seat, leaning on the car for support. As he dropped into the seat, he felt the car shudder on its springs.

Justine had left the seat reclined, and as Rob settled in, he realized it felt better to lean back. His bloated belly didn't hurt quite as much with a little pressure relieved. Dimly, he felt Justine fiddling with his jeans. She undid the snap, which didn't do much, because his bloated stomach already strained against the waistband. Then, however, she undid the zip.

Ahhhh. That was much better. Half asleep by now, Rob muzzily massaged his aching belly. As soon as Justine had undone his pants, his stomach had popped out. His shirt, unable to take the strain, rode up, and Rob's hugely distended belly glistened in the moonlight.

Tony and Ashley had both fallen asleep, Tony with his hand stuck into his waistband to ease the discomfort of the suddenly tight waistband cutting into his bloated belly.

Rob jumped. That is, his head jerked up. The rest of him was way too full to move. Justine was slowly stroking her hand across the tautly distended spread of his midriff. Luckily, she had parked the car in a rest area, down by the end, where no one would see them.

Teasingly, she poked at his swollen waist. "Ow!" Rob said sharply.

"Shh," Justine replied.

Rob, stupefied with food, felt his eyelids flutter closed as Justine rubbed and rubbed her BHM.


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## tankgirl (Nov 2, 2005)

More? More?


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## Observer (Oct 18, 2008)

ok - let's retrofit this oldie and put it in the proper archive


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