Belly Burger IV (Patreon)

$20 Patreon Directory

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“Nice costume…” said a girl cagily. She was dressed as a bride, and presently goggling Iowa’s belly as it bulged out in her belly dancer costume.

“Thanks,” said Iowa blithely. She filled up her cup at the punch bowl as the girl eyed her again, then walked off.

Iowa was at a fancy dress party. She gazed around at all the themed suits and gowns. As a pleasing melody began to thrum through the room, she beamed, lowered her cup, and made her way to the dance floor.

Iowa danced enthusiastically, ignoring all others, even as her round belly bounced against bodies in the crowded room.

“What are you supposed to be?” someone called.

Iowa looked up at a masked man. She could tell it was Fred, if just by the boy’s wolfish grin.

“Belly dancer,” she yelled over the music, spreading her arms to put her full harem-style costume on display. She rocked her hips seductively as Fred laughed and swayed with her.

She continued to dance with abandon, falling into a belly dance, her hips jutting left to right as her swollen belly freely bobbed and jiggled, disharmonious with the rest of her body.

She began to draw attention. Iowa had always been a great dancer. People cleared the way, forming a circle around her as they followed her movements, rapt looks glued to her midsection.

Her bare abdomen jiggled furiously, swinging in every which direction. Soon it was tingling, her belly button throbbing. Iowa reddened as she was assaulted with a sensation of tightness.

She cupped her belly with one hand as she continued to dance, and she could swear she could feel it swelling. She lowered her gaze down to it, and it certainly looked as though it was growing, inching forward from its impressive basketball-size. Iowa returned her attention to the crowd to see that most of her spectators were gawking by now, several of their jaws hanging slack.

When the song ended, Iowa slowed her movements, breathing heavily and arching her back by impulse.

Suddenly a pair of hands were upon her, rubbing up and down her mound. Her skin tingled and burned as a new song started up. Iowa pressed herself harder against Fred.

The crowd tentatively resumed dancing, as Fred and Iowa kissed, swayed, and laughed against the contact.

Her belly felt so full and hot. She whimpered as Fred massaged her sensitive navel.

“Let’s go,” Fred whispered, taking her hand.

Iowa allowed herself to be pulled out of a room, and through a nondescript door in a corner. The two entered what appeared to be a large pantry, the music silenced as they shut the door behind them.

Iowa and Fred closed their distance and resumed their make-out session as Fred groped at Iowa’s belly and Iowa groped at a shelf of boxed cakes behind him.

Soon the two found themselves sprawled on the floor against a wall, Fred’s legs spread so that Iowa could sit between them and lean on his chest. He happily fed her chunks of pound cake with his bare hands. In between Fred’s offerings, she moaned in pleasure and stuffed chips into her mouth.

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