“Now look what you’ve done to me!” I snapped, lumbering into the room where Eddie was watching TV.
“Rita, what’s wrong?” he cried, jumping up. “Don’t ask me what’s wrong! Look at me!” I waved a hand at my expansive gut bulging out of my inadequate pants. My jumbo panties were stretched to bursting across the swell of my gigantic belly, my sheer size forcing the waistband to roll down.
“I’m huge! I’ve gotten too fat for these size 30 clothes and it’s all your fault! Do you realize that I’m the fattest woman in my office? It’s all because you pamper me so much. Making me all those special treats and desserts, waiting on me hand and foot, never letting me get a lick of exercize. No wonder I’m so big!”
I pointed at my once slender body. My belly arced in front of me, making me look like I had swallowed a beach ball. My largest t-shirt was stretched to its limits trying to contain the upper portion of my rounded tummy and my milk-bloated breasts. It had become difficult to find bras that fit over those two titanic tits, let me tell you! With each plodding step, my rotound stomach bobbed and swayed and my ballooning boobs jiggled and bounced. I felt like a waterbed! Let’s not even start on my butt! It had grown so big and plump that it was hard for me to fit into my work desk. Those swollen buns pulled my pants out so far that the top of my panties was always exposed. If they didn’t stop blowing up, soon my butt crack would be in plain view, too!
I thought back wistfully on my once petite body. I used to be your average Asian woman, small and svelte, long raven tresses, pale porceline skin. Who would have thought that I was capable of totally blimping out after marriage?
“Nonsense,” said Eddie, “You’re just not trying hard enough. Here, suck in your stomach and try again.”
I sucked in my blubbery paunch as far as I could and Eddie grabbed hold of the two zipper flaps.
“Uhh!” he groaned and struggled to pull them together. They wouldn’t reach; I was just too fat.
“See?” I moaned, rubbing my swollen gut.
“Come on, suck in that tummy of yours!” coaxed Eddie.
“I...am...sucking...it...in!” I gasped, turning beet red with the exertion. “Uh!”
Eddie’s hand slipped and I lurched backward, almost losing my balance and tumbling over backward. I looked down, straining to see what sort of progress he had made but I couldn’t see anything: my enormous milk bags totally obscured my vision.
I gently shoved my swollen breasts out of the way but then the curve of my upper belly was in the way. I groaned and rolled my eyes; there was just no way that I was ever going to see my waist again!
“Let’s try again,” said Eddie, mopping his brow, “This time, why don’t you lie down and then we’ll do it. Your belly should naturally slide back a bit then.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, “Give me a hand.” Eddie held me from behind and slowly lowered my huge bulk to the floor.
“Oof!”
“How’re you feeling?” asked Eddie with concern.
“Huge,” I repeated, looking at my vast front. “Like a big, sloshy waterbed. Like an over-stuffed Thanksgiving turkey. Like the Goodyear blimp. Like a fat, greedy pig.”
“Enough with the analogies,” grinned Eddie, “Let’s get started. You worry too much, you know that, Rita?”
“Ha! Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re not the one who suddenly blew up like a balloon. Ow! Careful!”
“Look, you want these buttoned or not? ‘Cause I’d just as soon leave them open.”
Eddie smiled, caressing the smooth skin of my bare stomach.
“Oh, no you don’t, mister! I know how that works. First, I give up on buttoning my jeans and the next thing you know I’ve given up on fitting through doors. No, none of that. Grab that snap and let’s get these puppies zipped!”
“Okay, here goes nothing.” Eddie grabbed and yanked with all his might; I could feel the flaps pinching my rounded tummy as he pulled them together.
“Suck in!” he said. I inhaled as far as I could and felt a sudden pressure around my middle.
“There!” It was done! Eddie released the flaps and I let out a sigh of relief. My stomach lurched forward, testing the limits of the overstretched jeans. The stitches groaned and whined. The jeans were so tight I had to take shallow breaths for fear they would pop open again.
“See?” said Eddie, “You’re not too fat at all. In fact, I’ll bet there’s even room in that tummy of yours for a special treat right now.”
I began to protest but he put a finger to my plump lips.
“Shhh,” he whispered, “Think of it as your reward for fitting into your jeans.”
“No, no, no!” I protested. “How can you even think about that after everything we just went through? If I eat anything- even one bite-I won’t be able to get into these again! Right now, I don’t even know how I’m going to get out of them.”
Eddie left for the kitchen even as I was shouting after him...