Julie barely acknowledged the waiter when he dropped off the salad and the second bowl of pasta. He left with a look of concern for the young lady who seemed all but ready to toss her cookies before the night's end. She plowed on through the first bowl, now sopping up the cut strands and leftover sauce in the first bowl.
But Julie ate with purpose, every bite a mini-orgasm that spread to every limb. As discreetly as she could, she kicked off one shoe, then the other, wiggling her toes still bound in stockings. She knew, now, that it wasn't just her boobs that were growing; she was taller, bigger all over. Julie's back cracked as she inched taller. Her bones grew thicker and denser as they stretched to compensate for her swelling assets. Her joints ached as her body adapted to its size. But the only discomfort Julie felt was for her stomach, hungry for food. It wanted more, and faster.
Julie wanted more, too. She had resented her small stature before, but had always accepted it as a part of who she was. Unsatisfied, she had secretly grown jealous of women taller, curvier, sexier than her. Women who had an easier life, a better one than her. She had kept it hidden, though, even from herself. Her desire for fame was not really about popularity, but merely recognition from the men who passed her without so much as a second glance, the women who pitied her figure and her looks. She saw them in the restaurant, whispering to their boyfriends and husbands.
But this gift, this weapon, this opportunity would make them understand who she was and what she would become. She thought about ordering a third bowl, but reconsidered. After two, she reckoned, the restaurant would understand, as well.
The band on her bra, stretched by her widening bust, finally broke with a muffled snap. Now free of their suspension, Julie's tits appeared even bigger than before as they surged against the tight fabric of her sweater. Someone gasped, an unseen watcher. A small burst of pleasure accompanied a rubbery sound as her areolae stretched wider and her dark nipple thickened to thumb-sized stubs. She thrust her chest out, arching her back, and the hem of her top crept higher and higher. She was past six feet tall now.
She pulled the second bowl to her, untouched, her new loyal servant. Her sleeves receded from her wrists as her arms grew longer, and her pant legs clung to calves that bulged and swelled as her legs lengthened. Her hose ran from her thighs down to her feet. Calories pumped into her, lengthening tendons and bones, making her stronger. Her ass threatened every seam it met, and she rocked its mass back and forth in her seat, relishing in wanton pleasure as cloth cut across her sopping wet pussy.
The tables around her had all stopped their conversations and were gawking at the woman who had seemed perfectly normal an hour ago as she seemed to make love to a bowl of pasta. Check that, an enormous woman, at least six and a half feet tall. Every other bite caused her to shiver in an unmistakable orgasm. Some spoke of her tits, how they stretched the woman's collar and filled it with a billowing tower of cleavage. The table in front of her, an older couple, pointed beneath the woman's table to a set of size 16 feet sliding across the hardwood floor of the restaurant. Nobody, however, noticed when her pants split down the back, or when her soaked panties finally snapped off, or when her butt rapidly swelled to the width of the doorway behind her. Nobody except Julie, that is.
But Julie ate with purpose, every bite a mini-orgasm that spread to every limb. As discreetly as she could, she kicked off one shoe, then the other, wiggling her toes still bound in stockings. She knew, now, that it wasn't just her boobs that were growing; she was taller, bigger all over. Julie's back cracked as she inched taller. Her bones grew thicker and denser as they stretched to compensate for her swelling assets. Her joints ached as her body adapted to its size. But the only discomfort Julie felt was for her stomach, hungry for food. It wanted more, and faster.
Julie wanted more, too. She had resented her small stature before, but had always accepted it as a part of who she was. Unsatisfied, she had secretly grown jealous of women taller, curvier, sexier than her. Women who had an easier life, a better one than her. She had kept it hidden, though, even from herself. Her desire for fame was not really about popularity, but merely recognition from the men who passed her without so much as a second glance, the women who pitied her figure and her looks. She saw them in the restaurant, whispering to their boyfriends and husbands.
But this gift, this weapon, this opportunity would make them understand who she was and what she would become. She thought about ordering a third bowl, but reconsidered. After two, she reckoned, the restaurant would understand, as well.
The band on her bra, stretched by her widening bust, finally broke with a muffled snap. Now free of their suspension, Julie's tits appeared even bigger than before as they surged against the tight fabric of her sweater. Someone gasped, an unseen watcher. A small burst of pleasure accompanied a rubbery sound as her areolae stretched wider and her dark nipple thickened to thumb-sized stubs. She thrust her chest out, arching her back, and the hem of her top crept higher and higher. She was past six feet tall now.
She pulled the second bowl to her, untouched, her new loyal servant. Her sleeves receded from her wrists as her arms grew longer, and her pant legs clung to calves that bulged and swelled as her legs lengthened. Her hose ran from her thighs down to her feet. Calories pumped into her, lengthening tendons and bones, making her stronger. Her ass threatened every seam it met, and she rocked its mass back and forth in her seat, relishing in wanton pleasure as cloth cut across her sopping wet pussy.
The tables around her had all stopped their conversations and were gawking at the woman who had seemed perfectly normal an hour ago as she seemed to make love to a bowl of pasta. Check that, an enormous woman, at least six and a half feet tall. Every other bite caused her to shiver in an unmistakable orgasm. Some spoke of her tits, how they stretched the woman's collar and filled it with a billowing tower of cleavage. The table in front of her, an older couple, pointed beneath the woman's table to a set of size 16 feet sliding across the hardwood floor of the restaurant. Nobody, however, noticed when her pants split down the back, or when her soaked panties finally snapped off, or when her butt rapidly swelled to the width of the doorway behind her. Nobody except Julie, that is.
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June 9, 2023
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