belly123123123
New Member
~BBW, ~SWG,
(Based on a true story.)
As Jenny McAlister examined her profile in the mirror, nude save for a light blue thong, it was abundantly clear. After her first semester at USC, the Freshman 15 had struck hard. Interestingly, rather than the layer of padding that many of her classmates had put on, Jenny's new found weight had all settled right in her belly.
Her legs were still toned, her butt small but shapely, and unfortunately, her perky little tits were still on the small side of B-cup. Her tummy, however, had rounded out into a small dome, resembling that of a woman 3 or 4 months pregnant.
It didn't seem too unusual. Jenny was a short girl - she would say 5'3", though in all honestly, she was closer to 5'2". The new mass must not have had anywhere else to go, so it settled right out front in her midsection.
While most girls would be disgusted by the image staring back at them in the mirror, Jenny was almost proud of what she saw. That little belly was the product of the best four months of her life. Jenny grew up in a household with parents who didn't drink and allowed no food under their roof that wasn't certified organic. So, it stands to reason that such a girl might go a little nuts her first time out on her own.
After pledging Eta Alpha Tau, Jenny had discovered a real taste for cheap beer. She got blackout drunk about four nights a week and brownout drunk the other three. Though she might not always remember it, the binge drinking was invariably followed by late night greasy fast food. Philly cheese steaks, pizza, wings, the campus pub had it all, and after 18 years of wheat grass and tofu, Jenny was absolutely in heaven with Natty Ice and cheese fries.
When she looked at her little pot belly, Jenny didn't see the flabby gut of a lazy bitch - she saw a tribute to her months of non-stop partying, a badge of honor for the rookie sorority girl. Jenny was naturally a very pretty girl with healthy blond hair that fell to the middle of her back, deep brown eyes, and the lightest spray of freckles across her face. So, she embraced her "food baby," and anybody who didn't like it could bug off.
Many of her non-baggy-t-shirt-shirts were getting a bit snug, so if a little crescent of belly flesh peaked out between her shirt and the pajama pants she wore every day, Jenny would choose to rock that and make it her sexy look. She would sun herself on the quad in a bikini and work on getting her prized bump nice and tan. And of course, she would keep on feeding it with good times.
* * * * *
As Jenny prepared to head home for her sophomore Christmas break, she gave her naked body a good once over in the mirror. She might have guessed that another year of partying would take a toll on her body, but she never would have guessed it would look like this. Jenny had doubled down on the Freshman 15, and it had miraculously continued to accumulate predominantly in one isolated region.
Her legs were slender as ever, her ass no more than an inch wider, and her breasts at least had finally blossomed into full, bona fide B-cups. Even her lean arms gave the false impression that she knew where the gym was. Jenny's belly, on the other hand, was now the size of a woman 7 months pregnant. Much like a pregnant belly, and unlike your average beer gut, her midsection had maintained a defined globular shape. It was firm and seemed to nearly defy gravity.
Her doctor couldn't explain it, and didn't choose to do much more than scold her to improve her diet and exercise more. However, despite her gain or perhaps because of it, Jenny had only grown more proud of her food baby, her mini keg, her party ball. It went by many names, and the generous mound of flesh had earned its owner a nickname of her own.
"Mama Jen" was now her "official" nickname in Eta Alpha Tau, both because of her physique and the fact that a year and a half of non-stop drinking had imbued the Mama with such a tolerance for alcohol that she was routinely the one who had to rescue her skinnier sisters when they went overboard.
When she wasn't mothering the light weights, Jenny could usually be found drinking frat boys under the table. Although her body wasn't what the brothers might call "conventionally hot," something about her ability to put beer after beer away into her mini keg was a serious turn-on. Also, by the time they got back to her room or his, the brother in question was usually too hammered to object to her additional curves.
Around the end of freshman year, Jenny had run into wardrobe issues. All of her skinny clothes were too tight around the belly, and all the fat girl clothes she tried on were too loose everywhere but. She could still throw an XL t-shirt over her PJ bottoms, but aside from class and lounging around the common room, she did need some slightly dressier outfits.
It took some chiding from her friends, but on a dare, Mama Jen ventured into the maternity section of the department store and tried on some stretchy jeans and runched tops. To her surprise, they fit perfectly! That was that, and Jenny was sold on clothing made especially for big, protruding bellies. Her favorite look was a sweater mini-dress - she owned several in different bright colors - that clung to her every curve. They showed off her toned arms, gave her a bit of cleavage, and caressed the contours of her belly and butt, and then stopped just above mid-thigh.
Jenny liked to complete the ensemble with a wide belt that would run from the small of her back and then under her belly, giving the outfit definition and providing her with a little support. In a pair of high-heeled, knee-high, black, patent leather boots, she was one sexy mama.
Given her unique shape and the fact that she WAS wearing actual maternity clothes, it was not totally uncommon for strangers to mistake Jenny for being pregnant. Most people had the good sense not to just come out and say it, but Jenny could usually count on someone to give her a seat on the crowded university shuttle.
She also noticed that professors would give her an understanding smile rather than an angry scowl when she rolled into a lecture 15 minutes late with a tired look on her face. They probably assumed she was recovering from morning sickness. Truthfully, she had been hugging the toilet, but for totally different reasons. Jenny decided to quietly accept these little courtesies as additional perks of the food baby she was already so proud of.
* * * * *
Jenny admired her newly tanned and pleasantly bloomed up figure in the mirror. She and her friends had just gotten back from their junior year spring break. A whole week at an all-inclusive resort in Cabo San Lucas! Even before a week of non-stop eating and drinking, Jenny's body had expanded quite a bit from the previous year.
Her stubborn breasts had finally accepted some of the new load and filled out into very full C-cups. Her ass and hips had grown, but by no means lost their shape. Quite the contrary, they had become all the more curvaceous, filling out considerably into a lovely hour glass, though her entire body did not have a speck of cellulite anywhere on it. Her whole frame was perfectly plump and curvy, right down to her 9-month pregnant-looking stomach.
Yep, Mama Jen's food baby just kept on growing into a big, fleshy beach ball. It was still firm and inexplicably well defined. Her belly button was still an innie, though just barely, growing more and more shallow as it stretched further out in front of her.
Jenny wore a pink bikini for most of the trip. She had hoped that a two-piece bathing suit might be one garment from her skinny days that would still fit, but alas, her tits had outgrown the top to the point where it might have been fun for the boys to look at but was incredibly uncomfortable to wear. Jenny wrote this off as a good problem to have and happily invested in a sexy string bikini that could better accommodate her generous bosom.
The resort where she and her friends stayed had more than a few "babymooners" in attendance. Young, first-time moms-to-be, most of whom dressed far more modestly on the beach. There was a tall, slender, fair-skinned brunette who opted for a black one-piece. A redhead a few inches taller and slightly chubbier than Jen opted for a swim skirt to hide her very maternal ass and thighs. Finally, Jenny had encountered a Latina girl, full to bursting, who wore a horizontally striped tankini. Jen guessed the bloated mamacita was hoping the swimsuit would cover more of her blossoming bump than it did.
Although she dressed far more boldly (to say nothing of the fact that she wasn't really knocked up), the real preggers gave her approving nods and smiles. A few made pleasant small talk and asked about her due date. Rather than get into a whole explanation, Mama Jen simply rolled with it, as she often did, and made up a story. It was just easier that way.
When she wasn't at the beach, Jenny spent most of the trip with her friends at the pool's swim-up bar. Unlimited alcohol in the one place she could still feel light as a feather was a pretty good deal. In fact, a balloon might have been a more apt analogy as her fleshy beach ball served as a uniquely effective flotation device.
Jenny loved bobbing around with a piña colada in each hand, only ever putting her drink down to grab some cheese fries. The only downside was the feeling of overwhelming ponderousness that overcame her when she got out of the pool. Between the sudden loss of buoyancy and the alcohol buzz, Mama Jen was always painfully sluggish for the first few minutes out of the water. This was a great excuse to lay her soft, padded body out on a soft, padded lounge chair and soak up some rays. After a quick nap, she was usually readjusted back to normal Earth gravity.
Even as Jenny's belly continued to grow, she never had an especially hard time finding guys eager to get into her elastic-paneled maternity jeans. She accepted the fact that most guys wanted to do her from behind, probably so they could ignore her gut, but also for the logistical ease, as her mass became increasingly unwieldy.
Honestly, Jenny didn't mind. Athletic sexual positions only tired the poor girl out at her size. This way, she could rest on her belly, present her eagerly awaiting hot sex to the frat boy du jour, and let him do all the hard work. Jenny also accepted that most would not want to admit to their trysts in the light of day - she was a "moped," fun to ride, but not something you'd brag about to your friends.
Whether she was a desperation lay or a novelty fuck, plenty of the boys were happy to use her for sex. Mama Jen took it in stride, confident in the knowledge that she was using them, too. She was also very careful about birth control. Jenny was terrified about what actually getting pregnant would do to her body.
There was one guy who was different, though. She had met Mike, a brother of Fi Alpha, at a mixer a few months back. Instead of coming off all slick, he actually seemed nervous talking to Jen. She thought this was cute, and challenged him to a few rounds of beer pong to break the ice. She, of course, dominated, forcing Mike to drink cup after cup of courage (along with the disgusting floor lint that was just part of the game).
They went back to her room, and instead of simply mounting her from behind, Mike seemed eager to find positions that would give him access to her bloated belly. Jenny liked that Mike seemed to actually care about her needs in bed, and he even took her on a couple of dates. Nothing fancy, just a couple dinners at the off-campus TGIFridays, but Mike played it cool when she had to politely decline a booth, and he was a total gentleman about ordering multiple appetizers and pitchers of beer. Jenny wasn't really looking to get bogged down in a relationship just yet, but she hooked up with Mike every now and again, and they would often chat online during classes.
As much as she relished her curvaceous body, Jenny did begin to second guess herself when her physique began to make certain daily activities challenging. Eventually her ample girth prevented her from fitting her into some of the desks on campus. The school, of course, had ADA accessible desks that she was able to use, but it was a bit of a an embarrassment. Not nearly as embarrassing, though, as when tying her own shoes grew more and more challenging to the point where she simply gave up.
Propping one foot at a time against a hard surface, sucking in her breath, and leaning over with all her might until she was red in the face and huffing and puffing, her huge belly squished painfully tight, was highly discouraging, never mind when the laces became undone in public. The absolute last straw was when she could no longer wedge her bloated body into the booths at the campus pub.
Jenny had briefly set out on a strict regimen of diet and exercise to at least get her weight under control. "Dolled up" in an XL Spring Fling t-shirt that covered most of her rotundity, leaving only her underbelly exposed, and a pair of short shorts, the waistband of which was tucked snugly under her gut, Jenny made an honest attempt at hitting the gym for the first time in her college career. She tried running on the treadmill, though even at a slow pace, the jiggling and bouncing of her belly and breasts was distractingly painful. Opting for some lower impact activity, Jenny gave sit-ups her very best effort but found much to her chagrin, that she couldn't manage one!
The great mass in her abdomen weighed her torso down too heavily. She had to roll onto her side and scramble to her feet to bolt the gym at her fastest waddle to avoid ridicule. Jenny had worked hard to carve out her niche as the cool, pregnant-looking chick, but she knew that if people saw her flopping around like an orca out of water, she would be a big fat joke. That was the last time Jenny tried to work out, and needless to say, the "diet" fared even poorer, with beer and wings very quickly winning out over tofu and coconut water.
No, Jenny WOULD embrace her new form. She would nonchalantly take the disabled desks in class - most people would simply assume she was pregnant and not make a big deal. As for footwear, flip flops and Uggs made for much more "user friendly" alternatives to tennis shoes.
While Jenny also missed being able to paint her own toenails, she had always been a fancy girl who preferred a professional pedicure. When that wasn't in the budget, she easily convinced the sisters to make "paint Mama Jen's toes" a penalty for the pledges. Most didn't seem to mind - some felt bad for Jenny, others saw it as an opportunity to get in good with an older girl, and a handful actually seemed excited by the idea. Either way, it worked for Mama Jen!
* * * * *
It never ceased to amaze her. Stark naked, Jenny stood before her faithful full-length mirror, far enough back to fit her full figure in. The cute little Freshman 15 was now buried beneath the Senior 78. The petite blonde who had played Tinkerbell in her high school's production of Peter Pan just four years ago was now nearly as big around as she was tall.
As she prepared for graduation, Mama Jen's belly looked as though it was filled with twins, ready to burst. Somehow, miraculously, the vast majority of those new pounds had continued to accumulate straight out in front of her, forming a true perma-preggo beer gut the shape and nearly twice the size of a large, ripe watermelon; more torpedo-like than spherical. It seemed to defy gravity, sagging only slightly under its own tremendous weight. Her belly button, which had remained an innie for the first three years of her gain, had gradually flattened out and now barely made an indentation as it grew farther and farther away from its owner, as if it was trying to escape.
Miraculously, despite her tremendous growth, Jenny had managed to avoid one classic pregnancy accouterments: stretch marks. Massive as it was, her belly was still a perfectly smooth blob of flesh. On the rare, semi-awkward occasion that someone would point this out to her, Jenny would simply shrug and dismiss it as "perfect skin, I guess."
The truth was, Jenny had taken to using cocoa butter. A lot of it. In fact, it had become an almost nightly ritual for her. On the evenings when she didn't stumble home blackout drunk or with a random hook-up, Jenny would lock her bedroom door, hike up her shirt, and gently spread the soothing lotion over the expanse of her fleshy mound of blubber.
As Mama Jen caressed the tight sides of her food babies (she had dubbed them twins at the start of senior year), she would reminisce about all the great times that had filled her belly near to bursting. She'd think back to freshman year, when her little bulge was still in its first fictional trimester, discovering the exciting world of drinking games.
At first, she would cheat at beer pong, and playfully bat her soulful brown eyes at the frat boys who called her out for reaching. Soon enough, she wouldn't have to cheat. As Mama Jen packed on the pounds, she had become a sharp shooter with a ping pong ball. She also couldn't have cheated if she wanted to, when her growing belly forced her to stand the legal distance away from the table's edge.
Gently massaging the bloated trophy of her midsection, Jenny giggled, thinking back to junior year, when her faux preggo belly had really begun to take shape. Sometimes to give the girls a laugh, she would dress up in her most maternal outfit, usually a ruffly, floral, empire-waist top and white stretch pants. They'd go out to bars, and Mama Jen would loudly complain to anyone in earshot about "what a pain in the ass this kid is" and how she "can't wait to crap him out next month" as she pounded shots and puffed on bummed smokes.
The outraged looks from patrons were to die for, and on the occasion that one do-gooder chose to confront the wayward mother, Jenny would act taken aback and devastated, sobbing to her friends that a stranger thought she looked pregnant!
That said, it was not always in the college girl's interest to look preggers, particularly when out on the prowl for college boys. As the food baby grew into food twins, even maternity clothing options became limited. The word "slimming" was absolutely a relative term at this point, but black maxi dresses and catsuits made for good club wear. Baggy clothes would have just made her look obese, but black lycra stretched tight around her considerable curves and flowy down her legs were almost deceptively slimming when viewed from the front and the back. Only when seen from the side was the full immensity of Mama Jen's girth truly visible. Still, she didn't let that bother her. Any guys she brought home were bound to find out her not-so-little secret eventually.
Most nights, Jenny wasn't the club kitten or the pretend irresponsible mother; she was the party girl. Her party venue of choice was frat row, where the beer flowed like water and pizza was always just a phone call away. There, her outfit of choice usually consisted of a pair of red USC short shorts to show off her still fairly toned legs ("thick" would probably be the best term for them at this point), a worn and torn Keystone Light t-shirt stretched over most of her belly, leaving a wide crescent of underbelly hanging out, flip flops (some of the only shoes she could still put on and take off without help), and a cute, sporty pony tail, high on the back of her head, blond hair cascading down nearly to her very full hips.
This was Mama Jen in her element, embarrassing frat boys at beer pong and flip cup, and pounding down beer like it was going out of style. When she was really in the zone, Jenny loved to see how long she could last on a keg stand. At first, she could barely go five second, but by her senior year, Jenny could suck down foam for over a minute. Granted, it took three or four strong brothers to hold her up. Jenny noticed that Mike was always the first to volunteer, and he usually found his was under her belly to provide support (and cop a feel).
With a contented sigh, Jenny finished reminiscing and admiring her figure. She wrapped a shiny black satin bra around herself backwards, did up all four hooks in the front, turned it around 180 degrees, got her arms under the straps, and gently eased her chubby D-cup tits into the cups.
Then, Mama Jen grabbed a matching pair of lacy maternity panties and, sitting on the edge of her bed, carefully lassoed one foot with the undies. Leaning back and throwing her legs in the air in what had become her standard ritual for getting dressed, Jenny got her other foot into the other leg, grabbed the panties, and pulled them to her hips. Standing up, she yanked the stretchy panel up over her generous girth and straightened herself out. It was the largest sized robe that the university offered, so it was baggy in the shoulders and threatened to drag on the floor, but was completely filled out by her belly.
This was not a very flattering look, so Jenny took a large strip of pink ribbon, wrapped it around herself between her belly and breasts, and tied it off with a bow. This made the otherwise frumpy gown look like a fashionable maternity dress. Mama Jen was fully prepared for the misplaced applause she was bound to receive from complete strangers as she waddled across the stage, but such mistakes had become par for the course by now.
As Jenny slipped her chubby toes into a fashionable pair of black sandals, she thought about graduation and what lie ahead. The job market was bad enough, and her liberal arts degree with a focus in communications was just now beginning to look like a poor decision. The fact that she had drunk her way through college and barely studied was not boding well either. However, on Mama Jen's desk lay a recruiting pamphlet from a maternity modeling agency.
Most women could only cut it in that line of work for a few months at a time, but the talent agent Jenny had spoken to assured her that she could find ample work for her ample gut on a permanent basis. As she sauntered out of her room to the graduation ceremony, Jenny wondered how Mike would like dating a professional model.
Food Baby
by Bellyfan
by Bellyfan
(Based on a true story.)
As Jenny McAlister examined her profile in the mirror, nude save for a light blue thong, it was abundantly clear. After her first semester at USC, the Freshman 15 had struck hard. Interestingly, rather than the layer of padding that many of her classmates had put on, Jenny's new found weight had all settled right in her belly.
Her legs were still toned, her butt small but shapely, and unfortunately, her perky little tits were still on the small side of B-cup. Her tummy, however, had rounded out into a small dome, resembling that of a woman 3 or 4 months pregnant.
It didn't seem too unusual. Jenny was a short girl - she would say 5'3", though in all honestly, she was closer to 5'2". The new mass must not have had anywhere else to go, so it settled right out front in her midsection.
While most girls would be disgusted by the image staring back at them in the mirror, Jenny was almost proud of what she saw. That little belly was the product of the best four months of her life. Jenny grew up in a household with parents who didn't drink and allowed no food under their roof that wasn't certified organic. So, it stands to reason that such a girl might go a little nuts her first time out on her own.
After pledging Eta Alpha Tau, Jenny had discovered a real taste for cheap beer. She got blackout drunk about four nights a week and brownout drunk the other three. Though she might not always remember it, the binge drinking was invariably followed by late night greasy fast food. Philly cheese steaks, pizza, wings, the campus pub had it all, and after 18 years of wheat grass and tofu, Jenny was absolutely in heaven with Natty Ice and cheese fries.
When she looked at her little pot belly, Jenny didn't see the flabby gut of a lazy bitch - she saw a tribute to her months of non-stop partying, a badge of honor for the rookie sorority girl. Jenny was naturally a very pretty girl with healthy blond hair that fell to the middle of her back, deep brown eyes, and the lightest spray of freckles across her face. So, she embraced her "food baby," and anybody who didn't like it could bug off.
Many of her non-baggy-t-shirt-shirts were getting a bit snug, so if a little crescent of belly flesh peaked out between her shirt and the pajama pants she wore every day, Jenny would choose to rock that and make it her sexy look. She would sun herself on the quad in a bikini and work on getting her prized bump nice and tan. And of course, she would keep on feeding it with good times.
* * * * *
As Jenny prepared to head home for her sophomore Christmas break, she gave her naked body a good once over in the mirror. She might have guessed that another year of partying would take a toll on her body, but she never would have guessed it would look like this. Jenny had doubled down on the Freshman 15, and it had miraculously continued to accumulate predominantly in one isolated region.
Her legs were slender as ever, her ass no more than an inch wider, and her breasts at least had finally blossomed into full, bona fide B-cups. Even her lean arms gave the false impression that she knew where the gym was. Jenny's belly, on the other hand, was now the size of a woman 7 months pregnant. Much like a pregnant belly, and unlike your average beer gut, her midsection had maintained a defined globular shape. It was firm and seemed to nearly defy gravity.
Her doctor couldn't explain it, and didn't choose to do much more than scold her to improve her diet and exercise more. However, despite her gain or perhaps because of it, Jenny had only grown more proud of her food baby, her mini keg, her party ball. It went by many names, and the generous mound of flesh had earned its owner a nickname of her own.
"Mama Jen" was now her "official" nickname in Eta Alpha Tau, both because of her physique and the fact that a year and a half of non-stop drinking had imbued the Mama with such a tolerance for alcohol that she was routinely the one who had to rescue her skinnier sisters when they went overboard.
When she wasn't mothering the light weights, Jenny could usually be found drinking frat boys under the table. Although her body wasn't what the brothers might call "conventionally hot," something about her ability to put beer after beer away into her mini keg was a serious turn-on. Also, by the time they got back to her room or his, the brother in question was usually too hammered to object to her additional curves.
Around the end of freshman year, Jenny had run into wardrobe issues. All of her skinny clothes were too tight around the belly, and all the fat girl clothes she tried on were too loose everywhere but. She could still throw an XL t-shirt over her PJ bottoms, but aside from class and lounging around the common room, she did need some slightly dressier outfits.
It took some chiding from her friends, but on a dare, Mama Jen ventured into the maternity section of the department store and tried on some stretchy jeans and runched tops. To her surprise, they fit perfectly! That was that, and Jenny was sold on clothing made especially for big, protruding bellies. Her favorite look was a sweater mini-dress - she owned several in different bright colors - that clung to her every curve. They showed off her toned arms, gave her a bit of cleavage, and caressed the contours of her belly and butt, and then stopped just above mid-thigh.
Jenny liked to complete the ensemble with a wide belt that would run from the small of her back and then under her belly, giving the outfit definition and providing her with a little support. In a pair of high-heeled, knee-high, black, patent leather boots, she was one sexy mama.
Given her unique shape and the fact that she WAS wearing actual maternity clothes, it was not totally uncommon for strangers to mistake Jenny for being pregnant. Most people had the good sense not to just come out and say it, but Jenny could usually count on someone to give her a seat on the crowded university shuttle.
She also noticed that professors would give her an understanding smile rather than an angry scowl when she rolled into a lecture 15 minutes late with a tired look on her face. They probably assumed she was recovering from morning sickness. Truthfully, she had been hugging the toilet, but for totally different reasons. Jenny decided to quietly accept these little courtesies as additional perks of the food baby she was already so proud of.
* * * * *
Jenny admired her newly tanned and pleasantly bloomed up figure in the mirror. She and her friends had just gotten back from their junior year spring break. A whole week at an all-inclusive resort in Cabo San Lucas! Even before a week of non-stop eating and drinking, Jenny's body had expanded quite a bit from the previous year.
Her stubborn breasts had finally accepted some of the new load and filled out into very full C-cups. Her ass and hips had grown, but by no means lost their shape. Quite the contrary, they had become all the more curvaceous, filling out considerably into a lovely hour glass, though her entire body did not have a speck of cellulite anywhere on it. Her whole frame was perfectly plump and curvy, right down to her 9-month pregnant-looking stomach.
Yep, Mama Jen's food baby just kept on growing into a big, fleshy beach ball. It was still firm and inexplicably well defined. Her belly button was still an innie, though just barely, growing more and more shallow as it stretched further out in front of her.
Jenny wore a pink bikini for most of the trip. She had hoped that a two-piece bathing suit might be one garment from her skinny days that would still fit, but alas, her tits had outgrown the top to the point where it might have been fun for the boys to look at but was incredibly uncomfortable to wear. Jenny wrote this off as a good problem to have and happily invested in a sexy string bikini that could better accommodate her generous bosom.
The resort where she and her friends stayed had more than a few "babymooners" in attendance. Young, first-time moms-to-be, most of whom dressed far more modestly on the beach. There was a tall, slender, fair-skinned brunette who opted for a black one-piece. A redhead a few inches taller and slightly chubbier than Jen opted for a swim skirt to hide her very maternal ass and thighs. Finally, Jenny had encountered a Latina girl, full to bursting, who wore a horizontally striped tankini. Jen guessed the bloated mamacita was hoping the swimsuit would cover more of her blossoming bump than it did.
Although she dressed far more boldly (to say nothing of the fact that she wasn't really knocked up), the real preggers gave her approving nods and smiles. A few made pleasant small talk and asked about her due date. Rather than get into a whole explanation, Mama Jen simply rolled with it, as she often did, and made up a story. It was just easier that way.
When she wasn't at the beach, Jenny spent most of the trip with her friends at the pool's swim-up bar. Unlimited alcohol in the one place she could still feel light as a feather was a pretty good deal. In fact, a balloon might have been a more apt analogy as her fleshy beach ball served as a uniquely effective flotation device.
Jenny loved bobbing around with a piña colada in each hand, only ever putting her drink down to grab some cheese fries. The only downside was the feeling of overwhelming ponderousness that overcame her when she got out of the pool. Between the sudden loss of buoyancy and the alcohol buzz, Mama Jen was always painfully sluggish for the first few minutes out of the water. This was a great excuse to lay her soft, padded body out on a soft, padded lounge chair and soak up some rays. After a quick nap, she was usually readjusted back to normal Earth gravity.
Even as Jenny's belly continued to grow, she never had an especially hard time finding guys eager to get into her elastic-paneled maternity jeans. She accepted the fact that most guys wanted to do her from behind, probably so they could ignore her gut, but also for the logistical ease, as her mass became increasingly unwieldy.
Honestly, Jenny didn't mind. Athletic sexual positions only tired the poor girl out at her size. This way, she could rest on her belly, present her eagerly awaiting hot sex to the frat boy du jour, and let him do all the hard work. Jenny also accepted that most would not want to admit to their trysts in the light of day - she was a "moped," fun to ride, but not something you'd brag about to your friends.
Whether she was a desperation lay or a novelty fuck, plenty of the boys were happy to use her for sex. Mama Jen took it in stride, confident in the knowledge that she was using them, too. She was also very careful about birth control. Jenny was terrified about what actually getting pregnant would do to her body.
There was one guy who was different, though. She had met Mike, a brother of Fi Alpha, at a mixer a few months back. Instead of coming off all slick, he actually seemed nervous talking to Jen. She thought this was cute, and challenged him to a few rounds of beer pong to break the ice. She, of course, dominated, forcing Mike to drink cup after cup of courage (along with the disgusting floor lint that was just part of the game).
They went back to her room, and instead of simply mounting her from behind, Mike seemed eager to find positions that would give him access to her bloated belly. Jenny liked that Mike seemed to actually care about her needs in bed, and he even took her on a couple of dates. Nothing fancy, just a couple dinners at the off-campus TGIFridays, but Mike played it cool when she had to politely decline a booth, and he was a total gentleman about ordering multiple appetizers and pitchers of beer. Jenny wasn't really looking to get bogged down in a relationship just yet, but she hooked up with Mike every now and again, and they would often chat online during classes.
As much as she relished her curvaceous body, Jenny did begin to second guess herself when her physique began to make certain daily activities challenging. Eventually her ample girth prevented her from fitting her into some of the desks on campus. The school, of course, had ADA accessible desks that she was able to use, but it was a bit of a an embarrassment. Not nearly as embarrassing, though, as when tying her own shoes grew more and more challenging to the point where she simply gave up.
Propping one foot at a time against a hard surface, sucking in her breath, and leaning over with all her might until she was red in the face and huffing and puffing, her huge belly squished painfully tight, was highly discouraging, never mind when the laces became undone in public. The absolute last straw was when she could no longer wedge her bloated body into the booths at the campus pub.
Jenny had briefly set out on a strict regimen of diet and exercise to at least get her weight under control. "Dolled up" in an XL Spring Fling t-shirt that covered most of her rotundity, leaving only her underbelly exposed, and a pair of short shorts, the waistband of which was tucked snugly under her gut, Jenny made an honest attempt at hitting the gym for the first time in her college career. She tried running on the treadmill, though even at a slow pace, the jiggling and bouncing of her belly and breasts was distractingly painful. Opting for some lower impact activity, Jenny gave sit-ups her very best effort but found much to her chagrin, that she couldn't manage one!
The great mass in her abdomen weighed her torso down too heavily. She had to roll onto her side and scramble to her feet to bolt the gym at her fastest waddle to avoid ridicule. Jenny had worked hard to carve out her niche as the cool, pregnant-looking chick, but she knew that if people saw her flopping around like an orca out of water, she would be a big fat joke. That was the last time Jenny tried to work out, and needless to say, the "diet" fared even poorer, with beer and wings very quickly winning out over tofu and coconut water.
No, Jenny WOULD embrace her new form. She would nonchalantly take the disabled desks in class - most people would simply assume she was pregnant and not make a big deal. As for footwear, flip flops and Uggs made for much more "user friendly" alternatives to tennis shoes.
While Jenny also missed being able to paint her own toenails, she had always been a fancy girl who preferred a professional pedicure. When that wasn't in the budget, she easily convinced the sisters to make "paint Mama Jen's toes" a penalty for the pledges. Most didn't seem to mind - some felt bad for Jenny, others saw it as an opportunity to get in good with an older girl, and a handful actually seemed excited by the idea. Either way, it worked for Mama Jen!
* * * * *
It never ceased to amaze her. Stark naked, Jenny stood before her faithful full-length mirror, far enough back to fit her full figure in. The cute little Freshman 15 was now buried beneath the Senior 78. The petite blonde who had played Tinkerbell in her high school's production of Peter Pan just four years ago was now nearly as big around as she was tall.
As she prepared for graduation, Mama Jen's belly looked as though it was filled with twins, ready to burst. Somehow, miraculously, the vast majority of those new pounds had continued to accumulate straight out in front of her, forming a true perma-preggo beer gut the shape and nearly twice the size of a large, ripe watermelon; more torpedo-like than spherical. It seemed to defy gravity, sagging only slightly under its own tremendous weight. Her belly button, which had remained an innie for the first three years of her gain, had gradually flattened out and now barely made an indentation as it grew farther and farther away from its owner, as if it was trying to escape.
Miraculously, despite her tremendous growth, Jenny had managed to avoid one classic pregnancy accouterments: stretch marks. Massive as it was, her belly was still a perfectly smooth blob of flesh. On the rare, semi-awkward occasion that someone would point this out to her, Jenny would simply shrug and dismiss it as "perfect skin, I guess."
The truth was, Jenny had taken to using cocoa butter. A lot of it. In fact, it had become an almost nightly ritual for her. On the evenings when she didn't stumble home blackout drunk or with a random hook-up, Jenny would lock her bedroom door, hike up her shirt, and gently spread the soothing lotion over the expanse of her fleshy mound of blubber.
As Mama Jen caressed the tight sides of her food babies (she had dubbed them twins at the start of senior year), she would reminisce about all the great times that had filled her belly near to bursting. She'd think back to freshman year, when her little bulge was still in its first fictional trimester, discovering the exciting world of drinking games.
At first, she would cheat at beer pong, and playfully bat her soulful brown eyes at the frat boys who called her out for reaching. Soon enough, she wouldn't have to cheat. As Mama Jen packed on the pounds, she had become a sharp shooter with a ping pong ball. She also couldn't have cheated if she wanted to, when her growing belly forced her to stand the legal distance away from the table's edge.
Gently massaging the bloated trophy of her midsection, Jenny giggled, thinking back to junior year, when her faux preggo belly had really begun to take shape. Sometimes to give the girls a laugh, she would dress up in her most maternal outfit, usually a ruffly, floral, empire-waist top and white stretch pants. They'd go out to bars, and Mama Jen would loudly complain to anyone in earshot about "what a pain in the ass this kid is" and how she "can't wait to crap him out next month" as she pounded shots and puffed on bummed smokes.
The outraged looks from patrons were to die for, and on the occasion that one do-gooder chose to confront the wayward mother, Jenny would act taken aback and devastated, sobbing to her friends that a stranger thought she looked pregnant!
That said, it was not always in the college girl's interest to look preggers, particularly when out on the prowl for college boys. As the food baby grew into food twins, even maternity clothing options became limited. The word "slimming" was absolutely a relative term at this point, but black maxi dresses and catsuits made for good club wear. Baggy clothes would have just made her look obese, but black lycra stretched tight around her considerable curves and flowy down her legs were almost deceptively slimming when viewed from the front and the back. Only when seen from the side was the full immensity of Mama Jen's girth truly visible. Still, she didn't let that bother her. Any guys she brought home were bound to find out her not-so-little secret eventually.
Most nights, Jenny wasn't the club kitten or the pretend irresponsible mother; she was the party girl. Her party venue of choice was frat row, where the beer flowed like water and pizza was always just a phone call away. There, her outfit of choice usually consisted of a pair of red USC short shorts to show off her still fairly toned legs ("thick" would probably be the best term for them at this point), a worn and torn Keystone Light t-shirt stretched over most of her belly, leaving a wide crescent of underbelly hanging out, flip flops (some of the only shoes she could still put on and take off without help), and a cute, sporty pony tail, high on the back of her head, blond hair cascading down nearly to her very full hips.
This was Mama Jen in her element, embarrassing frat boys at beer pong and flip cup, and pounding down beer like it was going out of style. When she was really in the zone, Jenny loved to see how long she could last on a keg stand. At first, she could barely go five second, but by her senior year, Jenny could suck down foam for over a minute. Granted, it took three or four strong brothers to hold her up. Jenny noticed that Mike was always the first to volunteer, and he usually found his was under her belly to provide support (and cop a feel).
With a contented sigh, Jenny finished reminiscing and admiring her figure. She wrapped a shiny black satin bra around herself backwards, did up all four hooks in the front, turned it around 180 degrees, got her arms under the straps, and gently eased her chubby D-cup tits into the cups.
Then, Mama Jen grabbed a matching pair of lacy maternity panties and, sitting on the edge of her bed, carefully lassoed one foot with the undies. Leaning back and throwing her legs in the air in what had become her standard ritual for getting dressed, Jenny got her other foot into the other leg, grabbed the panties, and pulled them to her hips. Standing up, she yanked the stretchy panel up over her generous girth and straightened herself out. It was the largest sized robe that the university offered, so it was baggy in the shoulders and threatened to drag on the floor, but was completely filled out by her belly.
This was not a very flattering look, so Jenny took a large strip of pink ribbon, wrapped it around herself between her belly and breasts, and tied it off with a bow. This made the otherwise frumpy gown look like a fashionable maternity dress. Mama Jen was fully prepared for the misplaced applause she was bound to receive from complete strangers as she waddled across the stage, but such mistakes had become par for the course by now.
As Jenny slipped her chubby toes into a fashionable pair of black sandals, she thought about graduation and what lie ahead. The job market was bad enough, and her liberal arts degree with a focus in communications was just now beginning to look like a poor decision. The fact that she had drunk her way through college and barely studied was not boding well either. However, on Mama Jen's desk lay a recruiting pamphlet from a maternity modeling agency.
Most women could only cut it in that line of work for a few months at a time, but the talent agent Jenny had spoken to assured her that she could find ample work for her ample gut on a permanent basis. As she sauntered out of her room to the graduation ceremony, Jenny wondered how Mike would like dating a professional model.
