Kinktober 2 - Fat/Busty Society (Patreon)

Kinktober prompt:
Fat/Busty Society

Contains: Breast Expansion

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Kinktober 2 - Fat/Busty Society

Andrea tried to control her breathing as she climbed out of her car and pulled up to the big house. It was the kind of house she’d never be able to afford: a mid-century “McMansion” with a three-car garage, six beds, and four and a half baths. Andrea wasn’t nervous because of the house but because of who lived in it—her girlfriend—and the rest of her girlfriend’s girlfriends.

She checked her reflection in the car window. Lush dark curls framed her dusky face, and she dabbed a bit of lipstick off the corner of her mouth. Andrea brushed invisible lint from the sweater covering her chest. The fuzzy top gave her girls the illusion of a little extra size. At only a J-cup, Andrea’s chest was on the small side, so she needed every advantage she could get.

Luckily, her girlfriend cared more about her cooking than her boobs. Andrea reached into the back seat and pulled out a large rectangular cooler bag. Hefting the bag with both hands, she bumped the car door closed with her hip. Like every woman she knew, Andrea’s hips were just under thirty-six inches. Well, almost every woman she knew.

Andrea stepped onto the porch and grunted faintly as she set the bag down. She pressed the doorbell, then bent to pick it back up. The door swung open to reveal a tall woman with a blonde bob and a pink blouse with buttons straining over her P-cup chest.

Andrea’s dark eyebrows rose. “I think it’s time for a wardrobe upgrade, Sandy.”

The blonde laughed, making small gaps appear and disappear in her tight blouse. “I know, right? I’ve put on fifteen pounds since I moved in.”

Sandy stepped back to let Andrea carry her bag to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Even in a house this size, the kitchen was massive. A shorter brunette stood at the stove, turned sideways to reach the large pot of spaghetti and meatballs. Faith always said she wore an O-cup, but Andrea suspected she was at least an R. A black woman about Andrea’s height was carrying a baking sheet with four loaves of cheesy garlic bread; she held the tray high above her Q-cup chest, and Andrea admired how little wobbling there was. Kassidy always found the best-engineered bras.

“Hey, Andrea’s here!” Faith said. “We’re just about ready. Sandy, would you go help Cera and Mckenna get Anabelle to the dining room?”

The remaining three women chatted about nothing while they set the table. The enormous dining table could have seated twenty people, but the six chairs along the sides were well-spaced; the girls all preferred to eat sitting sideways to avoid knocking over glasses or getting food on their tops.

Sandy followed three more women into the dining room. Two of the newcomers were a redhead, Cera, M-cup, and another blonde, Mckenna, L-cup. Between them, they helped Anabelle, Andrea’s girlfriend, to her place at the head of the table.

Anabelle’s seat was almost a small couch—wide enough for two of her girlfriends to fit in and well-constructed of solid hardwood. Andrea’s girlfriend was the only fat woman she’d ever seen aside from photos on the internet, and her heart skipped a beat as she watched the obese woman waddle to her seat. Every inch of Anabelle’s body was enveloped in fat, from her triple chins to ankles the size of Andrea’s thighs.

Cera gestured to the chair at Anabelle’s left. “You can have my spot, Andy.”

“Really?”

“Sit, sit,” Anabelle urged, “I’ve been craving your lasagna all day.”

Andrea blushed and took her seat.

“Now, before we dig in,” A low gurgling came from the head of the table, and six pairs of eyes beamed at the object of their affection. “Andrea, we took a vote, and we’d like you to move in—if you don’t mind sharing a room with Cera.”

Andrea’s heart raced. “Really, you do?”

She looked around the table at each smiling face. When she got to Cera, the redhead said, “I think we’ll all need new bras with you making your grandma’s secret recipes all the time, but it’ll be so worth it.”

Andrea jumped up from her chair, wrapping her arms around Anabelle. Even if she’d been flat-chested, her hands wouldn’t have met behind her girlfriend’s back. She pressed her lips to Anabelle’s round cheeks, her eyes wet.

“Thank you so much,” she murmured, “I love you.”

Anabelle patted Andrea’s back. “I love you too, Andy.”

Andrea stepped back, wiping a tear from one eye. “I love you all; thank you so much.”

A chorus of love echoed around the table, and Andrea felt her heart might burst with joy. From beside her vacant seat, Kassidy said, “We all love you too, Andy. Now sit and let’s eat. Can’t you see poor Anabelle is starving?”

Musical laughter filled the room, and Andrea reached for the spatula and Anabelle’s plate. “That’s no good.” She scooped a third of the steaming pasta. “You’re practically wasting away, girl. Let’s get some meat on those bones.”