I worked at a restuarant on weekends to help pay the bills; it was a somewhat upscale place, like Baton Rouge. It was situated at the foot of a hotel, and sometimes hotel staff would come down the pick up orders to bring up to room service. While I was on the restaurant side, I relished every chance I had to hold banter with Cathy. While the shift schedule varied, it was usually Saturday nights.
I had known Cathy for a few years, starting when we first picked up shifts at the restaurant. I was about 24; she 23. The years went by too quickly, as the 20s do, and Cathy picked up office work while I got into teaching.
Cathy was tall and somewhat lithe starting out, albeit her hips held their own. Her arms had some definition; a holdeover from her track years in university. As the years went on, however, I witnessed a slow but definite transformation in her physique. The arms were held the first and, to this day, most obvious change: first the muscle receded, quickly replaced by layers of softness. For a relatively short time last year, one could catch a glimpse of her sides poking out a bit as evidenced by the push and pull of her skirt; the front frustratingly always hidden by her apron, if not a fairly baggy shirt before and after changing.
Sometime in November last year, the spanx finally went on — but this past summer, for some reason, subtle gain had accelerated, and one could see the daily strain around Cathy’s skirt. It was almost too much not to stare — we were coworkers, friends, and not more. But I couldn’t lie that I had to be careful around her lest I be caught hard. It was the occasional self-reference about it that really sent me overboard — “oh, I better not have a beer tonight, people will start to think I’m pregnant;” “I’ve got to stop testing the desserts.”
Last weekend, it happened to be Cathy’s 28th birthday on a date we were both on shift. I knew she was closing after a catering gig upstairs, so I went up to see her with no particular plan in mind.
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this,” were the stupid words that came out of my mouth as I walked into the small hotal dining room where Cathy was busy gathering the last of the dishes.
“Haha, it’s true, what am I doing here, it’s my birthday,” she shrugged off, focused on finishing up. “Aren’t you finished?”
“Thought I could lend a hand,” I offered.
“Well I know I’m a little out of shape but I’m going to be ok,” she joked.
Then I said something even dumber. Possibly. “Well I guess it’s more of a problem for me.”
She stopped and looked at me, brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“I mean, sometimes it’s hard to take my eyes off of you and that can be a little distracting.”
She stood silent for a moment. And approached.
“And what do you find attractive?” I placed my hands on her arms, feeling their somewhat meaty circumference and tracing it down to her hands.
“Yeah? What else?”
With some trepidation, I moved solemnly to her sides, tracing it down carefully to Cathy’s hips.
“That feels nice. Do you know that I know you’ve been looking at me a certain way for, like, years?”
I slowly nodded my head.
“I guess I should take this apron off. Could you do that?”
I untied Cathy’s apron, somewhat easily tossing it to the side as it slipped over her brown bobbed hair with ease. We went inside the fridge.
“Ok, I’m going to ask you something that’s a little weird, since we’re feeling bold today,” Cathy started.
“I notice you, uh… starting at my stomach a lot. Do you like that part of me?”
I wasn’t sure what the right answer might be, but I answered honestly.
“Well I have to tell you mister,” she said, idly placing her hands on her midriff, taut from her skirt and other accoutruments, “there’s probably a bit more going on here than you think. Is that good or bad, I wonder…. Well if I had to play detective, I have to tell you I’ve been noticing the eyeballing going on a lot more as I’ve…. grown over the past year or so.”
I could hardly hear the words spoken to me. Was this real?
“Well, it’s my birthday, but it looks like you’ll be the one unwrapping a present today.” She smiled, looking down, still failing to cause a double chin with her devilishly skinny visage.
I audibly gulped, taking one last full body glance of her D (E?) cups, cold-nipped arms, oh-so-teasingly, subtly convex skirt, and proceeded to the zipper on her right hip.
—
I unzipped slowly, revealing at first her tucked shirt and eventually the tight silk of what was confirmed to be Cathy’s spanx, slightly struggling to hold in her firm yet luxuriously soft hips.
And then, in the mother of all upset dreams, I my alarm went off. It was Cathy’s birthday.
Would I have the guts to try for such a sequence of events in real life?
—
I worked that night feeling the tension of whether to try my luck or not. There was nothing — nothing — to suggest she would suddenly act so lasciviously towards me.
Finally, at about 1am as the night was wrapping up, I decided to opt for simplicity. I took a creme brulee, prepared it and stuck a candle in. As I was about to go up my coworker, Matt, on the line, teased me.
“That’s not for Cathy, is it?” I grinned and nodded. He knew.
“Don’t you think she’s had enough sweet stuff this month?” He also knew Cathy was prone to sneaking a little dessert here and there. I shrugged.
“It’s her birthday,” I said. He knew.
At the elevator went up I felt unusually nervous. It was just a creme brulee. The doors opened, but no one was in the catering prep area. I decided to wait.
The toiler flushed in the washroom in the hallway, and I knew it was probably her. I tensed a little. You can do this, I told myself.
Cathy walked out without her apron on. It was months — half a year — since I saw her with just her skirt and shirt on, in real life. In my dream, she was a fair bit curvier and softer. In real life, well, I wasn’t prepared.
As she walked down the hall you could see a small but definite shake and bounce to her tightly-packed stomach, which besides her unhideable lower paunch swelled up to a small roll about the cusp of her belt. Her boobs — definitely Es — held it all together, likely usurping the attention of anyone. You could tell that skirt was screaming to be retired, but out of a mix of stretchiness and denial it clung to her physique. Perhaps my mind was just making it up, but I thought I could see a definite indent where Cathy’s navel was.
“Hey, happy birthday,” I mustered.
“Oh… thanks! I love creme brulee,” Cathy lingered on the last three words. “You know, this is going to taste bittersweet.”
“Why?” I asked, perplexed. This was not what I had hoped for.
“Well, I put in my two weeks. I’m going down to seasonal,” she explained, wholly unaware of the sinking feeling in my chest.
“I’ll miss you,” I said, tritely.
“Yeah, me too, but things change, right?” I took everything in me to try not to say anything potentially ruinous. I looked at her now-thick belly, voluminous arms, and ample posterior. Now don’t get me wrong, I also thought about her witty chats, passionate discourse about movies and music, and penchant for singing little tunes. But this was the kind of woman you would have trouble with, one way or another.
“Well keep in touch,” I weakly said.
“Yeah, of course. See you around.” She smiled. I walked down to the elevator.
Cathy changed her number two weeks later. Or so I could only assume. I wouldn’t know until the Christmas party later that year.
—
The Christmas Party
The fall went by rather uneventfully. Teaching was basically the same. Every couple of weeks I would try to text Cathy, even though it became pretty clear that something wasn’t going through. I didn’t use Facebook — I’m against it — although there were times when it was extremely tempting just to see how she was doing. Cathy started picking up seasonal work again in November, so I could tell, but our schedules just didn’t line up. It was frustrating; I wanted to check in and see her, but I didn’t want to be unusual or make her uncomfortable. I was trapped between my thoughts and my feelings
The evening of our reaturant staff party was when things changed. As I was heading over to the reception, Matt texted me:
“Hey man, Cathy just served our table”
“Really?” I texted, trying to suppress my elation
“Yeah man, but I have to tell you something you might not like”
“What’s that”
“She’s getting kind of huge, man”
I stopped and stared at my phone, unusure how to proceed.
“Eh?”
“Just come, see you soon buddy”
It had been only four months since Cathy’s birthday, so I assume maybe Matt just hadn’t really seen her in a while. I approached the building and walked up the stairs calmly. When I reached the top I strode to my table of fellow waiters and made some small talk. I saw other waitresses from catering make the rounds. Some had gained noticeably themselves over the past year or so. Tanya, a half asian girl, about 24, bustled around and made clear her size 10 pants were bought maybe two or three sizes ago. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice call me over the din from about a metre away.
“Hey!”
I turned around and smiled on the outside, melting on the inside. There was Cathy. Some gain finally visible on her face, but no where near a double chin, hair grown out a little to just above the shoulders, wearing a white shirt with cleavage poured on top, a definite midroll, and a lower belly stretching that same damn skirt to its upper (lower?) limit, producing a paunch you could reach under and scoop with both hands. Coupled with her rather broad hips, it was a minor wonder I didn’t have a heart attack right there. Her arms were outsretched, signalling a hug. I rose up before the rise in my pants could take too much more hold and strode confidently towards her, walking into the sexiest little-big pillow in the world.
Overwhelmed by sensation and libido, I almost leaned to Cathy’s ear, but she redirectly me out a little. Still holding hands, she asked,
“Want to go for a little walk?”
She pulled me out of the room and towards the prep kitchen.
“Uh where are we going?” I half knew, half didn’t.
“Why didn’t you text me?” She asked, sighingly. We had found out I was off my one number, and she had lost mine.
Some fifteen minutes of small talk and catching up later, it didn’t talk long until the subject of Cathy’s weight was brought up.
“All this talk is making me hungry. Do you have any more of that creme brulee?” She giggled. I hopped right to it. Of course…
—
I made it quickly, a bit nervous that we’d be discovered operating and using food and equipment off hours, a bit eager to serve Cathy in anticipation of whatever might be coming next.
“I want to sit on that counter, but I’d not sure it’s sturdy enough for me anymore,” Cathy admitted, eyeing the steel prep counter near the walk-in fridge.
“This amazing; you’re so good at these,” she went through the creme brulee somewhat quickly. “Hey did you want to go out after the party?”
“Um, sure, where to?” I said, trying to sound non-chalant.
“WellI was thinking of checking out this new place with my friend Tanya, but you can come along if you want,” she said, giving a wry smile. That Tanya I saw earlier, with the rapidly expanding, size 14 posterior?
“Let’s go back up,” Cathy directed, sashaying towards the elevator with a small but definite jiggle of her well-wrapped but ill-hidden stomach in every step.
The rest of the night at the party was somewhat uneventful, but I did find myself casting more than one more glance at Tanya as she worked. Again, she was most likely of half-Asian descent; she actually sort of took after Cathy, with soft tan arms and a cute, sharp nose and petit jawline. Clear as the country night, however, was that her work clothes were bought perhaps four sizes ago. While a loose white shirt did its utmost to conceal, walking a certain way or certainly bending over slightly to collect or disperse plates would reveal Tanya’s hips flaring well over the band of her pants, right around her lower back as well. I longed for a better look.
As we filed out and the chatting died down, I looked around for Cathy and Tanya to no avail. Then, a text.
“We’re just changing out of our work clothes. Meet as at The Union ;)” it read.
So I walked over and decided to wait a short while in front of the place, which was fairly nice — a standalone buiding. I saw two figures walking up.
There was Cathy and Tanya. In jeans. I literally couldn’t believe what I was seeing and quickly positioned by package so that it wouldn’t be so noticeable, before they got too close.
Cathy had on some dark jeans that rose just under her hips; atop that, a loose, frilly sleevess red shirt, but it was cut just short enough to reveal her control garment. Her chest was as big and proud as always, and most guys would probaby zero in on that, but I wasn’t most guys and it seems that Cathy was well aware of it.
The thing is, Tanya walked beside her wearing something quite similar. Tanya’s top was green, and it actually didn’t get cut as much around the midriff, but it was clear that any lateral movement would be very revealing. She wasn’t generally as large as Cathy, but actually had more accentuated hips.
We said our niceties and went in, hanging around the bar, talking restaurant shop and our careers. Tanya was a graduate student in musicology. Too soon, it became last call at 3am and, never wanting to assume, I decided to hang my hat for the night.
“Oh, don’t go!” Cathy said, a little too loudly in drunkenness and grabbing my arm.
“Well it’s kind of late, and I have a half hour walk to –”
“Oh no no no no, that’s not part of the…. plan” she started. “We –”
“We live upstairs, Tanya interjected.” What? Why didn’t this come up before?
“You… we can keep going upstairs,” Cathy smiled, regaining her composure a bit. Whatever that meant.
So there I was, ascending the staircase behind two of the most alluring women I had even been in proximity with in my life, wondering what happens next.
Finally Cathy and I sat on a sofa in their apartment, well decorated and bright. Tanya was in the kitchen making what smelled like tea.
“Good thing none one works tomorrow, eh?” Cathy started. Agreed.
“Okay… I want to make out with you. But.” But?
“Tanya gets to watch.”
“That’s… that’s hot.” Cathy stood up all 5 feet and 11 inches of her physique and stretched slowly. Holy hell. Finally totally distended, Cathy’s gut — one could properly say that — shook and quivered, teasing her deep almond-shaped navel and a jutting out from her panty line. She stopped suddenly and looked at me with lustful eyes, snapping her belly together and scrunching it up.
“Yeah, I don’t know how it happened… I was in track. Then you just stop doing that, you start the office job, you gain uncontrollable urges for desserts… oh and I guess you get a little turned on along the way. Do you know how it feels, to keep my chubby belly hidden from the world? Naughty. I need a guy who can handle this. Can you?”
I was so taken aback. “How did… you know?”
Cathy giggled. “Really? Your buddy on the line can’t be trusted,” she said.
“Sometimes I get so turned on by being found out what a little porker I’ve been,” she said, her breath deepening and lower belly visibly shimmering beneath her shirt as Cathy entered full confessional mode. “Sometimes I want someone to just find out, or for my belly to get so big a luscious not even my control garment can stop its obviousness under my skirt. Watching Tanya get bigger certainly didn’t stop fueling my desires.” Tanya, having served the coffee, watched silently and with rapt attention.
“So what do you say? Tease me.”
I stood up and faced Cathy, a bit self-aware that I was performing for Tanya, but equally enamored of the extra sexual tension filling the room.
“When I met you five years ago,” I started, “you were a lithe, tall thing. The first couple of years you filled out a little. Of course you were attractive then, but I can’t deny it’s been more than a pleasure seeing you grow.”
“Yeah?”
I loved catching little glimpses of your thickening hips. I loved serving you little desserts on our shifts together. At first it seemed like you were impenetrable, that you could eat whatever you wanted. But soon enough your little belly started to show. Not long after that, the spanx went on. The whole time I was left wondering what your belly looked like under those skirts. Maybe you weren’t even sure about it. That you knew you had to stay somewhat fit, but deep down inside you were more than a little turned on by the idea of having curves.”
“Yeah?” Cathy’s pitch heightened a little and my hand swept down her side and went for her lower belly, hanging in a pool of fat atop the waistband of her jeans.
“But this year, my God cathy, you blew up and I can no longer contain myself. Even sexier, in a way, that you could still pass a thin looking at your cute, sharp face.” I grabbed her soft love handles and gave them a little squeeze. They went in even further than I had thought.
“Fuck, I’m wet,” Cathy gasped.
“I have another confession for you,” Cathy started. “Tanya and I make out sometimes. Do you want to…. see?”
All pretenses were off. I said yes. Tanya got up and embraced Cathy’s sides, replacing me.
I sat and watched the two women embrace and give in. As they took off the jeans I had the first real look at Cathy’s bottom, clearly the beneficiary of sustained office life, perhaps a stretchy size 14; Tanya’s an outstretched 12.
They rubbed each others’ nipples caressed each others’ hips, and whispered little comments about their growing bodies that would probably be offensive to most other girls. We went all night.
—-
The next morning, though, something strange happened. Cathy appeared to have little to know memory of the little excursion.
“Fun little bar, isn’t it? We’re so lucky to have a place like that downstairs… or maybe unlucky, I don’t know, haha.” I was sitting with Cathy around breakfast. Tanya was fast asleep in her room.
“And after.”
“What?”
“You know, after the bar, we went upstairs…”
“And feel asleep. What, were you dreaming?” Cathy laughed again. She was wearing another skirt and spanx, and a different loose top. Tracing back the events in my mind, there was something missing — Cathy was wearing the control garment in the bar, and somehow it came off in the apartment. I sighed.
“Okay, I think you were dreaming. That’s ok; we’re good friends, I think I can allow that.”
“So I guess I might not be seeing you again for a little while,” I started, feeling slightly disappointed but also silly for feeling as such.
“Well you have my number proper now. Don’t be a stranger; it was great catching up with you.” We embraced and I restrained myself to keep it civil. One day, I thought, I am going to unwrap you and show you how beautiful you are.
—
Cathy stayed on as a seasonal worker, perhaps against the odds. I didn’t get to see Tanya at all either; never got her number, and out shifts never collided. So I was left wondering and to otherwise living life for a while.
It would be the next Christmas party when things started to get truly interesting.
—
Before getting to the next Christmas Party, though, about six months after that excursion I was finally scheduled at the same time as Tanya. That’s not quite true — someone needed to exchange shifts, and I happily picked it up after checking the schedule for the banquets.
And I was right to pick up that shift, as the manager asked me to go up and help out upstairs for a while as the restaurant, being a Tuesday in July, wasn’t so hot.
I was bringing a few finished plates to the back when I suddenly bumped into her — and it wasn’t hard to do. Even if Tanya and Cathy’s weight gain pact was wholly imagined that night, it wasn’t hard to believe something was going on, judging by how she had grown in the intervening six months.
She was average in the chest before — a B, maybe — but now she held in her possession definite Cs. The real changes went on around and beneath her midriff. The size 10 work pants finally had to go away, I surmised, replaced with 14s that, even then, failed to hold Tanya’s hips and lower back adequately. Indeed, it was almost as though she didn’t care or actually wanted others to steal a glimpse of her soft, golden pudge. It was a lot to take in the split second between bumping into her and initiating conversation.
“Hey, long time no see,” I started.
“Oh hey! Yeah, I almost forget we technically work together,” Tanya smiled.
“How’s school?” I asked, hoping to keep up some conversation as we cleared away.
“Yeah, it’s fine. Not sure what to do immediately after. Musicology isn’t the most practical thing in the world, but I’m enjoying it. Maybe I could get into teaching, like you.”
“Not the worst idea.”
“So are you and Cathy a thing yet?” Tanya suddenly asked as the shift wound down.
“Oh, um no, why?”
“I don’t know, she talks about you a lot.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, but then she gets all defensive if I talk about setting you up on a date or something. I don’t know.”
Cathy and I did text a lot, but it never seemed like she wanted to take it further. It really a good friendship, so I didn’t want to push it. in fact I had asked her out a few times in the intervening months, but no dice.
“Well I guess that means you’re single?”
“Um, well yeah I am I right now.”
“Well uh, do you want to go for a drink next door?”
“Sure.”
We got changed out of our work clothes, and Tanya came out wearing the very same outfit I had seen her in at the last Christmas party — the green top and jeans. However, Tanya was a smaller girl six months ago, and now the shirt came up about an inch, and her love handles were bare, flaring out even more from the back. The top stretched across her middle and outlined the extra pounds she had picked up; you could tell she was sucking it in. As we sat down at the bar stools, Tanya’s midsection squished up into multiple rolls — something I hadn’t seen from her before.
“Yeah, I’ve gained weight, no need to stare,” she glared at me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean –”
“Whatever, it’s my own fault. Cathy doesn’t keep a lot of healthy stuff in the apartment. And the free restaurant beer doesn’t help. Or my studying.”
“I… you look good.”
“Shut up, I do not.” It was a delicate situation. I opened up a little after pausing.
“Some guys really like it girls who don’t care about dieting,” I offered. “I mean… I’ve been trying to be with Cathy for years.”
Tanya paused and considered this not so revelatory information, and the conversation turned.
We exited the bar after about an hour, and Tanya suddenly turned and put my back against the wall, starting me down with smoldering eyes.
“Ok, here’s the deal. Ever since I met you that night at the Christmas party, I’ve been thinking about you. I like you. And combined with all the other stresses in my life, I kind of knew that letting go a little bit…”
I looked at her, eyes widened a bit.
“… Do I look hot?”
“Y-yes.”
“What about me?”
I instinctively reached my hands around Tanya’s unusually large hips and lower back.
“Yeah, I thought so. Well I have to tell you mister, Cathy’s been losing weight. Just saying. And I might need a control garment pretty soon if this keeps up. Just saying.”
“Did you want to go to your place?” I surmised.
“No. No… let’s go to your place.” Tanya said, a little suddenly.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/4zychx/the_skirt_fweightgainbbw_part_1