| Codes:
MF, breast/ass growth, weight gain Summary: Sometimes the girls just want to have a few drinks together, without fighting the skanks and losers at the club. Sure the Ash may not look like much from the street, but nobody ever forgets their first time there. Author's Note: Just another tall (wide?) tale spun by the liars down at the Ash. |
| The trio entered as a
single, giggling mass. Removing their oversized sunglasses
in the perpetual twilight of the Ash Street Tavern, they
strode towards the bar without a glance to the scattered regulars, who
reciprocated by sipping their drinks and shielding their eyes until the
door slammed shut and the shadows once again crept over the room. The first young woman was a natural blonde, and the other two trying were desperately to keep up. None of them could be any older than their early twenties, especially the way they immediately started looking for their driver's licenses as they settled onto the barstools nearest the jukebox. "Hello, ladies," the bartender approached wiping a grimy mug with an equally dirty rag. "Can I see those ID's?" "Here you are," said the blonde. Abby, 22 years old, 5' 4" and 127 pounds. She had blue eyes and an alpha-bitch gaze like a Norwegian ice breaker. "Here's mine," the second girl's dark roots were showing more than the other's. Bethany, 21 years old, 5' 1" and 132 pounds, but only because the BMV doesn't ask its customers to step on a scale. "And mine," the last girl had the most expensive handbag and the smallest breasts. Chloe, 21 years old, 5' 7" and 118 pounds. At least when she was sixteen. Chloe was taller than some of the men in the room, and she wasn't wearing a bra, just a loose fitting top underneath an open blouse. "All right, what will you girls have?" "I want shots!" Abby announced to the other two. "Do you know how to make a 'Sex with an Alligator'?" Chloe asked. "I do," "Uggh, I can't drink anything with Jagermeister in it," Bethany shook her head. "How about a 'Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall'?" "I can do that, too," the bartender leaned in and flashed a predatory grin. "But, how would you like to try one of my specialty shots?" "You invent your own shots?" Abby raised her eyebrow. "I've been a bartender most my life," the ageless man smiled at each of the girls. "And probably all of yours," "Okay, how about something sweet, not too strong," Abby said and the other two nodded in agreement. The bartender nodded and winked and set about practicing his craft. Abby tried to watch, but the man's hands moved fast and she swore that half the bottles were unlabeled. In the end, all she saw was a heavy splash of thick cream added to the shaker. Seconds later, a milky concoction waited impatiently before them in three rocks glasses. "I call this one a 'Fat Slut,'" "What's in it?" Chloe sniffed the drink cautiously. She couldn't nail down the smell, but it reminded her of visiting the county fair when she was six, eating funnel cakes and falling asleep on her mee-mah's bosoms in a field perfumed by wheat straw and bubbling cauldrons of hot grease. "It smells good!" "House secret," he threw up his hands, "But, the first one is always on the bar," "All right, here's to girl's night out!" Abby lifted her glass and the girls poured their drinks down their throats. Abby smacked her lips. The residual taste of chocolate and honey and something like Halloween coated the inside of her mouth and clung to her teeth. Bethany kept licking her lips and Chloe returned to her glass to let the last two drops fall onto her tongue. "How did you like it?" the bartender asked them. "It was really, really good!" Like her friends, Abby couldn't stop sucking on her lips and fought the urge to lick the scant film from the inside of the glass. When the bartender asked if they wanted another round, however, they all shook their heads. The shot was delicious, but Abby felt immensely satisfied, even full. "I think we'll just get some beers," "Sure thing," as quickly as before, he had pulled three bottles from a bin of ice, popped the caps and set them in front of the girls. A rough grunt from the shadows drew his attention. "If you need anything else, just give me a yell," Abby nursed her beer as she chatted with her friends. She still felt bloated, like she had just eaten Thanksgiving dinner, then a ham for dessert. She rubbed her stomach, which bulged over the waistband of her skirt. She noticed that Bethany's burgeoning beer gut was peeking out from between her shirt and her belt. Abby considered another diet, but decided to worry about it later. She felt lethargic, but also happy and relaxed. "Ffffuuurrpp!" Too relaxed, she realized as a loud, rippling fart shook her ass. "Abby!" Bethany turned with a look of shock. Chloe just started laughing. Her deep belly laughs were contagious, and soon all three girls' guts were shaking as their waists continued to thicken. "You're one to talk!" Abby wiped tears from her eyes and pointed at Bethany's rear. "Are you here to fix my sink?" "What?" Bethany twisted her neck around. Sure enough, it looked like the top of her ass was trying to escape her tight jeans. The other girls broke into laughter again. Chloe threw her head back and chuckled so hard that her left tit popped right out of her skin-tight undershirt. "Oh yea! Well, your boob is totally hanging out!" "Oh, my god!" Chloe squealed and covered her exposed nipple with her palm. She looked at her friends and giggled. They looked ridiculous. Abby's gut had pushed her shirt up under her breasts and her formerly loose skirt was stretched between her thickening legs and thighs. Bethany, meanwhile, was almost as wide as she was tall, her curves threatening to split every seam in her jeans and tee. As the girls continued to laugh hysterically, a man emerged from the shadows behind Abby's shoulder and whispered something into her ears. She immediately stood up and moved her barstool to the side, smothering her giggles. The man nodded, and Abby bent over the bar. Her fat tits flopped out of her bra and nearly into the drink well. The stranger grabbed her skirt and flipped it over her plumped rump. "Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" Abby's laughter finally faded as the man started peeling her thong underwear down to her ankles. "Listen, buddy, my friend asked you a question," Bethany glared as the bold stranger unbuckled his belt and positioned himself behind Abby's peach shaped ass. "What do you think you're doing?" The man grunted and pulled his cock from his boxers. He looked at Bethany and flashed a smile full of gold. "Don't worry, you'll get yours," "Oh yea!" Bethany stood up in a huff and began angrily unbuttoning her shirt. "What the hell are you doing?" Chloe recomposed herself and drank a little more of her beer. She could hear the loud butt- and thigh-slaps from down the bar as the stranger started nailing Abby from behind. "Showing this jackass what he's missing!" Bethany replied, tossing her hopelessly undersized bra on the bar. Placing her sandals next to it, she peeled her jeans off her panty-less bottom half. Looking down, the rotund young woman smiled and ran her hands through the rolling hills and valleys of womanly flesh between her neck and navel. As she continued to explore her newly spherical body, Bethany failed to notice the three young men who had surrounded her. "I'll bet you can suck a mean dick," the leader of the pack said, bringing his palm down on her ass cheek. "Oh!" the unexpected spanking startled Bethany, and the ripples from the impact shook her body like a bowl of warm Jello. She considered the newcomers suspiciously. "We've got a pitcher of beer at our table, why don't you party with us?" "Maybe," Bethany blushed. Ever since she took her clothes off, her puffy brown nipples had gotten harder and she had been rubbing her thighs together. "Okay, I guess," Chloe watched her friend leave with the guys, her giant ass and breasts bobbing as she walked away. Only a few feet away, the strange man pulled out of Abby and emptied himself on her lower back. A line of men nine deep had formed behind them, and the next one took his place inside the panting blonde's ass. Suddenly not feeling so good humored, Chloe drank her beer, idly caressing the heavy breast still hanging out of her shirt. Next to her, she saw Bethany's clothes piled on the bar. As for Bethany herself, she was already under a table, servicing the three young men with her hands and lips. Although she had gained as much weight as the other two, Chloe's tall frame had absorbed the mass, leaving her merely on the plump side of chubby. Pushing aside her empty bottle, Chloe belched and looked around the bar. A few of the men waiting in line for Abby had been looking at her, and she was tired of waiting. When she got up to talk to them, however, a tall woman in a long black dress pressed her back onto the stool with a single manicured hand. "Oh, no," she said, reaching down to tug at the young woman's top. Chloe's other tit bounced out. "You're going to try something a little different tonight," "Um... but," Chloe turned and looked up at the strange woman. She was beautiful, a pale wraith of a woman. Like a lost marquise from a time of decadence and plague. "Barkeep!" the ghostly woman called, summoning the handsome, ageless bartender. Chloe felt the woman's hands removing her shirt and top. The tall girl smiled and caressed her bare breasts and belly. "I'll have another Benedictine and Brandy, and I would like to buy a drink for this lovely young woman," "What will you have?" the bartender asked her, his eyes bright but devoid of any sexual hunger. All Chloe could think of, however, was how much she wanted to take the rest of her clothes off. "Why don't you make her a 'Raging Bull Dyke'," the ghostly woman said, her fingernails finally gliding over Chloe's sensitive spots. "Coming right up," With a wink the bartender returned to his craft once again. THE END
|
| Postscript:
Risking life and limb (and possibly my soul), I have once
again
purloined another secret from the Ash Street Tavern's bartender guide.
This version calls for rye, although if you
happen to have "whisky distilled
from the amaranth which grows in the
fields of Elysium," I cannot be held responsible for what may
happen to
you. Fat
Slut
1 oz
Rye Whiskey
1/2 oz Kahlua 1/2 oz Butterscotch Liqueur 1 Egg A Splash of Heavy Cream Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake and strain into a rocks glass. Consume as a shooter while wearing loose fitting clothing. |
| Back to Home | Sweet Stories | Spicy Stories |