go-on-have-a-little-more

[go-on-have-a-little-more]

You're wearing leggings that are far too tight. They fit you, maybe, 6 months ago. You have a t-shirt on that is in a similar situation. You've hidden both of these facts by wearing a zip up sweater over the top, but you've promised yourself that you'll take it off before you go into the shop. Simultaneously scared and excited, you upzip the sweater, revealing the view underneath. You picked a top that looked like it could have been a wardrobe malfunction rather than a deliberate choice so it's not showing off your whole belly. You wanted your outfit choice to look like you were someone who had gained a load of weight and was running out of clothes that fit, not someone who was actually trying to get fat.

As such, a casual viewer is gifted with the sight of the lowest portion of your gut hanging over the front of the overly stretched waistband and two magnificent love handles bulging free of their confines. The top is tight as well as too short. It is stretched against your midriff everywhere except your navel. You can see how deep it's become through the t-shirt. All of this you had admired when you looked at yourself in the mirror this morning but there were one it two details that you missed. It is also tight against your breasts. When you breathe in, you can see how tight your bra has become due to the slight overspill at the top of each cup - something you can see through the fabric of the t-shirt. Additionally, anyone viewing you from behind would see the rolls of fat on your back through your top, and just how tight the leggings were on your butt. Somehow your love handles look even bigger when viewed from behind.

You step into the shop and the usual server is there. He looks at you and he gives you a smile. Your heart races. It's not like you're into him, but he's the reason that today's donut run was different. He'd been offering you free extra donuts for months now and you wanted to know whether he was deliberately fattening you up. Today's performance was to see if he responded.

There's a short queue so you are forced to wait for a few minutes. Your belly is on display for everyone to see how big it's got. You tug at the bottom of the t-shirt. The t-shirt does not stay in place. Doubt fills your mind. You've always enjoyed your kink behind closed doors, not in public. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Fortunately no one seems to be paying you any attention. Somebody comes into the shop and joins the queue behind you and you wonder what they think when they see you. Are they embarrassed for the overweight girl stuffed into too tight clothes? You glance back at the person behind you. She's about your age and about your height, but she is definitely not your weight. You instinctively suck your tummy in as she looks back at you. Is it your imagination that she has a slight sneer when she sees your size? You quickly face forwards again and wish the people in front of you would hurry up. Finally you reach the front of the queue but you have decided to chicken out. It was enough to come here dress like this. Your favourite server greets you and you exchange pleasantries.

It is time to order. This bit is normal - you order your usual dozen. You used to pretend that you could be ordering for a group of people but there was no pretending any more. If it hasn't already been obvious that you were eating them all, your belly bulging over the top of your leggings cleared up any doubt. You can see your reflection in the glass of the counter. God you look even bigger than you had realised. As usual, he offers you an extra donut. There is a brief pause before you make up your mind.

'Oh, no I shouldn't. I've gained a little weight lately and these donuts are so fattening.' You emphasis the word 'fattening' just a little and your hand goes to the roll of fat on display and grab the side of it. You hope that the movement looks subconscious. He glances down at your gut, and his eyes linger there for just a little too long to be polite. You tug your top down again. That time it was subconscious.

He asks you if you're sure and says that he has your favourite flavour in stock. They're often out because they're so good. This is your opportunity.

Your stomach rumbles audibly. 'Oh, those are so good,' you say.

He encourages you to have one, saying one more donut won't make much difference. The implication is that he knows that you're eating all the others. You say, 'oh go on.'

He leans down and grabs one with the tongs. Your belly is almost at eye level and you can see that he is looking at the roll of fat. You find yourself going pink with embarrassmemt and you wish that it was smaller. You wish that it was much larger. You decide that it's now or never and practically blurt out, 'can I have two?'

He laughs and says that he thought you were worried about your weight.

'They're really good,' you say, 'and one more won't make a difference.'

He grabs another one, telling you that his boss will be mad for giving you two free donuts. You offer to pay for them but he just laughs and says that he boss is always mad. He places the extra donuts in the bag for you and you pay. He passes the donuts over the counter and you lean forward to get them. As you do your belly presses into the glass counter and you wonder whether it had it always done that. You take the bag and turn to head out the door. just as you do, he says your name.

'Yes?' you ask. What's he going to say?

He tells you that there's often a few left over at the end of the day so if you want some more free donuts you should come back at closing time.

'I'll see you then,' you say.

You immediately pull one of the donuts out of the bag and take a bite as you walk out of the shop. You are relieved to have left but so excited by everything that has just happened. You place your hand back into the bag. One donut down, thirteen to go.