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OC: School Sweetheart part 2

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     Part 1: School Sweetheart part 1

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     I followed Clara through the cavernous halls of her mansion, my eyes constantly flickering between the two most distracting aspects. The halls themselves were shockingly grand. A marble floor with a carpet so plush I could feel my shoes sink slightly with every step. The walls were decorated with polished and ornate fixtures, paintings, and delicate engravings. Every so often we would pass a door,but Clara kept moving on, not stopping. The ceiling stretched far above, making the sound of us breath, and even the rustling of our clothes, bounce loud echos back at us. If it weren't for the carpet, I was sure that our footsteps would have done the same. Oddly enough, despite the acoustics, I hadn't heard anyone else since we entered.

     The second thing that split my attention was Clara herself. Without a crowd of people between us, her body was even more obviously large. Her back had multiple rolls the flowed down, forming love handles that I was sure smoothed out at her belly. The skirt was teasing me, mocking me with it's cruel design. Every time she took a step, the skirt would ride up, stretching over her bulbous ass, the hem rising just to flash the bottom of a cheek for the ghost of a second, before falling down again to keep it's wearer decent, and then repeating the hypnotic dance on the other side. Secretly enjoying myself, but feeling guilty and awkward for staring, I tried to break the ice.

     I asked her how her family could afford all this.

     Clara looked back at me over her shoulder. "My father is an oil baron." she replied, "He founded multiple oil wells and refineries, striking black gold often enough to keep our family well-heeled." She smiled as I struggled to keep my eyes on her face and not on her tantalizing backside, unsuccessfully. "And well-fed."

     Clara ultimately stopped in front of a door unlike the others. This one seemed to be more complex in it's design, the wood expertly carved into swirling shapes and patterns. The frame also seemed wider, clearly meant for someone of a certain girth, like Clara. She grabbed the handle and waddled through the door.

     I couldn't help but notice the enlarged door didn't stop her hips from brushing the sides.

     Following her inside, I was immediately struck by the scale of the room. The cherry red walls were each twenty feet apart from each other, with tall windows on the far wall letting in natural light, leaving the room in a soft glow. Tucked into the corner was a bed, larger than a king size, sheets pristine. Next to it was a door that hung up, granting a glimpse of a walk-in wardrobe. Across from the bed, in the other corner, was a desk with a high end computer hooked up and papers stacked on top of it. The chair for the desk had an extended seat, making it almost as wide as it was tall, clearly meant to try and hold Clara's overflowing rear. Yet, the most prominent features were in the center, with a couch that had the same exaggerated proportions as the chair, looking like it could hold more than six people on it, and a huge table, heavy and long, but set low to the ground like a coffee-table. It was all some kind of living-room/dining-room/bedroom mix. Yet despite the impressive furniture and spacious room, I couldn't but feel the room shrink as Clara strode through it, letting her hand glide across the table as she made her way to the closet.

     Peering over her shoulder to make sure I was watching, she sensually ran her hands down her sides, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt. Shimmying, she tugged downward, the skirt stretching and pulling to reach over her hips. With an audible snap, the skirt lost tension and fell to the floor. Clara's bare rear was exposed, each plump cheek huge and perky. Either one was easily the size of a belly of a girl half her size. The black, lacy panties she was wearing were pulled so taut that they could only be called a thong. Grinning, she turned around, presenting me with her front. Stroking the bottom of her tummy as she raised her hands, she wrapped her pudgy fingers around the buttons of her shirt and started to undo them. Going from the bottom, up, each pop caused her belly and breasts to bulge forward, as if she was growing before my eyes. Letting her shirt pool on the floor with her skirt, she stood there in only her underwear, her matching black bra clearly too small, barely holding in her watermelon sized breasts, and her belly spilling out and resting against her thighs. Cracking open the closet door, she kicked her clothes inside. Turning back to me and smiling devilishly, she raised an eyebrow.

     I fumbled with my clothes, taking them off far faster and easier than she had. The two of us were then standing there, her in her lingerie and me in my boxers. Waddling over to me, Clara took me by the hand and led me to the couch. On the way over, I thought I saw her tap some kind of button on the table, but I wasn't sure. She made me sit down, but she remained standing. At that angle, I could only just see her earthy eyes over her bulging breasts.

     Finally, at that moment, I felt the reality of the situation hit me, and before things could go any farther I stammered out that we were too young for sex.

     I couldn't see Clara's mouth, yet I got the distinct feeling she was smiling. "You think," she asked, "that a refined and elegant girl like me brought you here for something like sex?"

     Clara sat down beside me, her large ass shaking the couch when she sat down. Only now that she was so close that I could see how tired the short walk through her house had made her. It was in the way her face was slightly flushed, and that her bosom was heaving from her deep breathing. Taking a second to compose herself Clara turned back to me. 

     "I'm a very rich girl, Mr. Hungry Eyes," Clara said, giving a huge understatement, "and that attracts a certain amount of attention. So, I order to know if a relationship with me can last as well as be exciting, a guy has to pass two tests, to see if I'm right for them, and, more importantly, if their right for me."

     Punctuating her sentence, the door swung open. I jumped, blushing madly as two slender maids came into the room, each pushing a huge food cart. Not even bating an eye, the maids took platter after platter off the cart, setting each silver domed dish onto the table until there wasn't any space left. Finishing their task, Clara waved them out of the room, and they obeyed quickly, yet as they left I thought the glances thy gave me were pitying.

     Once the door clicked shut, Clara resumed the conversation. "You see, me and my older sister always had a taste for larger men. Even when I was little and my sister was a teenager, we would convince the boys in school to eat. They would get plumper and riper, swelling up under our tender touch, and we loved it. At one point or another they would realize what was going on, and proceed to dump us, but the damage was already done. Of course, being around all that fattening food caused us to balloon up too, but that hardly mattered. Larger men liked larger women, so it only helped us get dates that were already predisposed to fat. Besides" Clara said, giving her belly a slap, wobbling her heavy body, "I think I've grown attached to my bigger assets."

     "Where was I? Oh yeah, so me and my sister loved fattening guys up, got fat ourselves, etc. Eventually, she reaches college, I reach high school, the two of us are whales, and we have a history of swollen dates under our tight belts. Unfortunately, that's also when things all went wrong. My sister came back from college one day, and just said we had to stop. Told me she had gotten some guy huge, bigger than we had ever made someone before, and that she couldn't do it anymore. She even made me promise that I couldn't do it either. But," she said, looking pointedly at me, "I don't think she could stop me if my boyfriend was willing. So, how about it? All of this," Clara placed her hands on her breasts, slowly running her hands down her belly, and pinched her thighs, "If you say yes."

     Taking in the amount of plates on the table, food still hidden under the silver covers, I looked at Clara, a corpulent beauty that was asking someone like me for a relationship. She was clever, pretty, and fun. The answer was obvious.

     I said I would love to.

     Clara blinked at that, surprised. She quickly recovered and gave me her trademark smirk. "I'll be honest, you aren't the first person I've invited back here, Mr. Hungry Eyes," Clara purred, "But, none of them said yes. So, consider what happens next a very special treatment, indeed."

     Not wasting any time, Clara leaned as far forward as her impeding bulk would let her, and grabbed one of the silver platters. Pulling off the top, she revealed a stack of fresh bread rolls. Moving faster than I thought a girl of her size could, Clara snatched one of the rolls and mashed it into my mouth. Shocked, I barely managed to finish chewing and swallowing before another roll was stuffed in my face, not allowing me to talk. I fell back onto the couch cushion, as Clara finished the bread and uncovered another dish, this one a fine cooked steak. Not bothering to cut it up, she took the whole chunk of meat in her hands and brought it up to my face, feeding me every bite, insistingly pushing it against my lips if I wasn't chewing for even a second. I let out a small burp after that, feeling full only after those tow plates, when there was still a table full of food left.

     This would be the example for the next hour, Clara using my few words of consent to justify stuffing me to the gills. Meats, grains, fruits, vegetables, and sweets all passed through my lips under Clara's guidance. I could truly see what she had meant early, Clara was in a rapture over feeding me. As time went on, Clara had started leaning on me more and more, getting closer and closer the more enthralled she was. I would feel the weight of her on me, her fleshy arm wings squishing my shoulder. With one hand keeping a constant supply of food streaming towards my mouth, her other hand's soft digits rubbing soothing circles against my taut belly. Her eyes never left my lips, constantly monitoring to see if any more food could be jammed into my jaw. A heavy blush turned her whole face red, arousal etched onto her features. 

     Since my hands were free, I had been reaching over to feel Clara's body. My fingers breezed over her silky, milky skin, remarkable blemish free, despite the diet she had to maintain. I felt her thighs in my palms, heavy and thick, spreading out as the weight of her own body oozed them over the couch. I moved up to her belly, feeling my hands sink into the plush dome. Even the softest push sent ripples throughout her whole body, waves of jiggling that Clara shook of to keep feeding me. Finally my hands rested on her love handles, rolls so large and drooping that I could slide my fingertips under them, tickling the folds of her skin. That made Clara giggle, a surprisingly innocent reaction, compared to the sultry attitude she'd been keeping up.

     Eventually, Clara's hand smacked against a silver tray instead of another morsel. Snapping back to attention, she focus back on me. "Well, well," she said, a devious grin splitting her chubby face, "You did better than I thought you would." I couldn't respond. My stomach was stuffed beyond anything I thought it could be, a lead weigh that was pinning me to the sofa. I couldn't talk, could barely breath. I glanced down to she what damage Clara had done to me. My belly was completely swollen with food, red and angry, pushing over the waistband of my boxers and resting in my lap. It looked like I had swallowed a basketball. I tried to speak, but only let out a moan in response. Clara patted my belly, an approving glint in her eyes. "Of course, now that we've laid the foundation," she whispered, anticipation dripping from every word, "now we have to fill in the mortar." Reaching over to the only unused item on the table, a tall metal pitcher, Clara brought it to my lips, and I couldn't protest. She tipped it back, letting a flood of rich, sweet cream fill my mouth. Unable to do anything else, I gulped down the heavy liquid, feeling whatever space that might have remained in my stomach disappear . Setting the empty jug back on the table, Clara finally let me rest as I sank further into the couch cushions.

     Groggy with food, I couldn't do much more than lay there stare at Clara, the beautiful sight she was. Clara was far from the athletic type, and even just the last hour of sitting her and feeding me had made her tired, her massive chest bouncing up and down with tired breaths, and a a few beads of sweat were caught on her brow. I think she thought I had passed out, thought that honestly wasn't far from the state I was in. Wordlessly, with a fond look, she snuggled up next to me, her large stomach squishing against mine. She wrapped her flabby arms around me; her thick upper arms were like heated pillows. In Clara's warm and soft embrace, the two of us drifted off to sleep.

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     From then on, it felt life the two of us were inseparable. We took a real interest in one another, not only caring about each other bodies, but we cared about our personalities too. Clara proved to be more of a tease than I ever thought she would. Contrasting her confident attitude, she could always leave me shy and embarrassed. Whenever we talked with our friends, she would provoke them to ask them about my weight gain, to which she would reply with either a slap to my ballooning belly and a pinch to my plush thighs and say that her "prize hog" was "filling out nicely". She would find new way to make fun of me, emphasizing my new fat. When my thighs started to touch, Clara made we slip a playing card between my legs before school, and to her delight, it stayed there all day. As we were about to leave school, Clara, in front of everyone, reached down, and quickly snatched the queen of hearts. Either no one saw, or no one wanted to say anything, but Clara loved playing games like that. Forcing me to wear clothes a size too small, pointing out how I had a waddle a little like hers, and ordering multiple lunches at the cafeteria for me, feeding me slowly and sensually in the middle of the room. Even though I was humiliated at the time, both of us would laugh about it later, when we would go through our after-school feedings. Once I reached a point where I didn't pass out after the table full of food, we would spend the rest of the day talking, reading, playing videogames, and making out.

     Despite how my size was exploding from all the feeding sessions we were having, Clara's frame barely changed. She would only ever sneak food I was too stuffed to eat, even then only doing that if she couldn't force it own my throat. Saying that, she was still far larger than me, making herself the goal I would have to reach. 

     The two of us spent the rest of our school days like that, one of us a slowly expanding blob, and the other her rapidly ballooning hog, getting fatter every minute and loving every second of it.
Part 1: bbwld.deviantart.com/art/Schoo…

I hope you all enjoy this story.

Feedback and criticism is appreciated.

Also, please comment about what you like in a weight gain story, and what aspects of them do you think are arousing or attractive?
© 2015 - 2024 Krabopolis
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Can’t wait for part 3. This is a great story