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Today's the day, I thought as I pulled the sash of my apron tighter around my waist. checking my lean body to make sure I was presentable. Brushing my brown hair out of my eyes, I flipped the sign on my shop's front door to "open". Glancing back, I took in my store. My bakery wasn't very large, but it was mine. The front windows and glass door let in light, setting the room in a friendly glow. Near the back there was a counter that held the register and a glass display filled with the various confections I had to offer. A few tables and chairs were set around in case anyone wanted to stay and eat their food. Today was opening day, and I had made sure the store was as inviting as possible. Satisfied that everything was in line, I retreated behind the counter.

For as long as I could remember, I had always loved cooking. People had told me I was a good cook, so I pursued a career as best I could. I practiced time and time again, as often as I could, to make sure everything I made was perfect. Despite all that baking, and the tasting it required, I had managed to keep off the pounds, staying slim and fit throughout my training. Now that I thought I could call myself a master baker, I had decided to open up a pastry shop in the city, to put my skills to the test.

It wasn't long before I had my first customer.

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Ding!

I jolted to attention. I had been waiting at the register for over two hours, and I had started to doze. I smiled at the customer that walked in, a woman dressed in jogging sweats, her blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail. Skinny as a rail, I was surprised that someone like her would be the first visitor to my shop. She paced over to the counter, keeping the spring in her step she must of had on her jog. "I'll have one glazed doughnut please." she asked, hopping from one foot to the other. I pulled one doughnut out from the display, put it in a bag, and handed it to her. She paid me. We waved to each other as she left the store, and she was quickly out of sight around the corner.

I didn't expect to see her again, but I could have been more wrong.

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Everyday after that, the jogger would stop by my store during her run. Sometimes she would order a doughnut, sometimes times a cupcake, but she always made sure that it was something big and filling. This routine kept up for a few more days, until it reached an inevitable conclusion.

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Two weeks later, I was waiting behind the counter, watching the door. Every day, at this time in the morning the jogger would enter the store, but today she was late. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Someone on a diet couldn't keep coming into a bakery. Yet, despite that thought, I heard the bell above the door jingle.

It was the jogger, but something was different. Before when she came in, she had always been tired. The woman in front of me now was wheezing, rivulets of sweat dotting her brow. She leaned on the counter, catching her breath. After a moment, she turned around to face me. I couldn't help but notice that her sweatpants seemed tighter, but that might have been my imagination. "I-I'll have," she huffed out, "Three glazed donuts, for here" Pulling them out from the counter, I handed her the pastries, and some napkins. "Here you are," I said, "Ms....?" "Brittney." she relied, "My name's Brittney." "Nice to meet you Brittney, my name's Jack."

Either she was rude or just too exhausted, but she didn't respond. Instead, she shambled over to one of the tables and collapsed into a chair. Not wasting any time, Brittney started digging into the donuts. She must have been starving. Each one was giant, bigger than her palms, and with every bite she tore a huge chunks out of them. As she ate, I noticed that the waistband of her pants were starting to dig into her middle. When she reached the third doughnut, I felt my eyes almost bulge out of my head as her belly pushed down the waistband. Her stomach wasn't very large, but it was definitely edging onto her lap. Finishing the last doughnut, she absentmindedly pulled her pants back up. I didn't think she realized her belly had shown.

She left my store after that, but when she went around the corner, she was walking, not jogging.

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The next day, when Brittney arrived at her usual time, she certainly wasn't a jogger. She parked a small blue moped on the sidewalk, before walking into the store. She was dressed, not in her running sweats, but a red T-shirt and jeans. They must have been old, they clung tightly to her, and hugged her curves suggestively. Her blond hair fell around her shoulders instead of being bound in a ponytail. When she walked up to the counter, she flashed me a smile. "Morning Jack," Brittney beamed, "I'll have three glazed and two jelly-filled donuts please."

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In the following weeks, Brittney would keep visiting my bakery. She would always make a big order, buying more pastries than any other customer would. Somedays she would come in the afternoon, having a second meal.Brittney and I had gotten friendlier, and soon something more would grow.

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I grinned as Brittney entered, setting off my store's bell. She smiled at me too, her cheeks dimpling. Brittney was undeniably large now. Her potbelly was round and pronounced, like a balloon had been put under her shirt. Her breasts looked uncomfortably tight as they strained against the shirt's fabric. Even her legs looked thicker, sometimes rubbing against each other when she walked. Regardless, Brittney still held an energy that a woman thirty pounds lighter wouldn't have.

Brittney and I made our usual transaction, but when she went to sit down, she turned back to me. "You want to talk?" she asked me.
I blinked, surprised. Sure, the two of us were friendly to each other, but I didn't know if that made us friends. Before Brittney could change her mind I accepted. "OK."

Sitting at the table with her, I noticed that we didn't say much. Brittney began eating immediately, and I had no idea what to say to her. Realizing that neither of us had anything to say, she tried to take the initiative. "So..." Brittney said, fishing for something, "You run a bakery?" I raised an eyebrow at the obvious question. "I mean," she said, indignant, "It must be nice to eat all kinds of nice pastries whenever you want." I laughed at that. "I don't really eat them." I said. Brittney froze. Slowly, as if checking to make sure she heard me right, she said "Jack, you don't like your pastries?" I shrugged, "I don't dislike them." Brittney couldn't believe me. "These pastries," she emphasized, "Are incredible, and you can't not enjoy them." Taking on of the jelly-filled donuts, Brittney forced one into my hand. "Eat." she commanded. Not willing to refuse her, I brought it up to my lips.

Feeling my teeth sink into the dough let my mouth fill with the sugary sweetness of it. Noting the smooth cream of the jelly as it flowed out of the holes I had put into end, I savored the-

Brittney's hand slapped mine, pushing the rest of the doughnut into my mouth.

I spluttered as I struggled to swallowed, and glared at Brittney, who was shaking with laughter. "I'm sorry," she finally managed to get out, "But it looked like you either going to eat that doughnut or lecture it." With what she said next, Brittney looked me in the eye, and I was shocked that I had never noticed how blue her eyes were. "I want to enjoy the little aspects of life" Brittney said soberly, "Regardless of what others think or how I look." That sentence left the rest of our time in silence, as Brittney ate the rest of donuts and left without saying a word, leaving me with my thoughts.

That doughnut had been pretty good.

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From then on, when Brittney came into the store, I would turn the sign on the door to closed, and eat with Brittney. She didn't stay long enough to have an effect on my business. We didn't talk as much as most people would over food, but that was because we were both stuffing our faces. Neither of us talked about what effect that was having on our bodies; neither of us wanting to spoil the others good mood.

When Summer turned to Fall, and turned to Winter, both of us had changed dramatically.

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I gave the ties of my apron another pull, trying to stretch the strings around my middle and knot the ends, to no avail. Giving up, I let the apron rest on my middle like a tarp. I had completely outgrown it. It didn't come as a surprise. After snacking almost everyday with Brittney, I couldn't have expected anything else to happen than for me to gain weight. I had blown up with fat like a balloon, almost all of it surrounding my center. My belly was now a dome of blubber, sagging over the waistband of my pants and brushing my thighs as I walked. The rest of my body looked pretty small by comparison, only growing enough to support my globular stomach. I was sure if I was a woman, people would think I was going to have quadruplets.

But Brittney had gotten the worst of it.

As if in tune with that thought, the front door jingled, and in walked Brittney.

When it came to weight based in numbers, I was probably the heavier one, but Brittney looked far flabbier. Reckless gluttony had taken its toll. Waddling through the door, Brittney's belly entered a good second before she did, far more pronounced than mine, a sphere of gelatin that jiggled as she struggled to walk. Instead of the greetings she used to give me, the only sounds she made were the soft swishing of denim, as her upper thighs rubbed against each other, packed like overripe sausages in her jeans, and the tired huffing of her breath, tuckered out from the short walk from her abused scooter. Every few steps, she would pull up her pants, the waistband slipping below the gigantic mounds of her backside, as they jiggled ad pushed upward to break free from containment. Brittney's breasts were obscene, practically bouncing out of the top of her beige sweater, each watermelon sized boob resting on top of her stomach, even having enough weight to droop to the sides, if only a little. Even her arms were fatter, biceps like pillows, and fingers made of marshmallow.

Wasting no time with pleasantries, Brittney flipped the sign on the door, and then maneuvered over to one of the tables as best she could, and with a dull thud, landed in a chair. The steel legs gave out a pitiful cry, but held. While she took the time to catch her breath, I reached under the counter to heft up an entire shelf of goodies. Struggling under its weight, I carried it over to her table, and set it down, the absurd expanse of treats cover the entire tabletop. I sat across from her, wincing as my chair gave a conspiratorial groan. Brittney reached over to the sweets, a glance she gave me of her flushed chubby face was the only acknowledgement of my presence. Taking a glazed doughnut big enough to be worn as a bracelet, she tore into it, displaying the most energy she ever had anymore, and in a flash it was gone, only a few crumbs on her plump lips remaining a evidence. Not wanting to let Brittney take everything, I started to dig in too.

We spent almost an hour like that, not a word passing between us as we gorged ourselves like we were starving. We glutted on pastries and delicacies, some small enough to fit in our palm, some large as our own heads. These confections were ones I made especially for the two of us. Treat after treat disappeared down our gullets, we ate so fast that we barely made any time to breath. If it weren't for the fact that we didn't spare a single scrape of food, our voracity with our eating would have made us filthy. Instead we were both clean, except for the handful of crumbs that lay on top of the shelf of my belly, and in the valley of Brittney's cleavage. Despite the huge pile of treats I'd set in front of us, it wasn't long before we'd devoured the pastries.

I leaned back, exhausted at just the act of eating, the rack of baked goods in front of me empty. Half of them had been funneled into my stomach, which now sat distended in my lap, angry, red, and swollen. My belly struggled against its confines, pushing aside my apron, and threatening to pop the buttons on my shirt. The buttons hadn't burst yet, but I didn't risk taking any deep breaths. I fought with myself for a moment, but I couldn't get up, my food-filled belly was pinning me to my seat. Across from me, Brittney wasn't faring any better. Her sweater, while it had been snug, was now stretched to its limit, stitches tight and fraying. Her clothes now hugged her like a second skin, revealing every curve and dimple that her fat made as it flowed over itself. Groggy blue eyes sat in a dull stupor against a face scarlet red. Despite how full and comfortable I was, I couldn't let myself drift off like Brittney. Heaving myself up, I finally managed to stand. Yet, as I started to waddled my way to the door, Brittney grabbed my hand.

"Jack," Brittney managed to gasp out, still sleepy from our feast, "We need to talk." I stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. Instead, Brittney let out a gentle burp, and settled back into her chair, the metal whining in protest. I couldn't blame her for her silence. I was clearly the more aware of the two of us, and I could barely stand. Putting whatever it was that Brittney wanted to talk about until we weren't both drunk on sugar was probably a good idea. Leaving Brittney to digest, I flipped the front door sign to open.

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Brittney stayed in the bakery the rest of that day, big enough and still enough to be a piece of furniture. As customers came and went, she would sometimes take breaks from her naps to either steal a pastry, or to read from a book she had retrieved from her moped. The chair under her was suffering more and more damage as time went on, the steel legs clearly bending. Even the chair I usually sat in was a little lopsided. Still, as the daylight hours faded, I could feel Brittney watching me when she didn't think I notice, and whenever I caught her, she would pretend to be asleep, her cheeks clearly red. Eventually it was closing time, and as the clock ticked over to ten, I flipped the sign back to closed.

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I flicked the light switch off, casting the bakery into shade. With none of the interior lights on, the only illumination came from the streetlamps outside, dragging long shadows on everything in the store, including us. If Brittney wanted privacy, this was it. No one would look inside after the lights had gone out, and even if they did, they wouldn't be able to make us out.

Here in the dark, Brittney was an alien landscape, all to herself. The light played tricks with her body, rivers of shadow flowing through valleys of adipose. Brittney looked like a supple water sprite, her body rippling and shifting as she moved. In the dim light, only her eyes still held color, two piercing blue oceans. A heartbeat passed between us, and then Brittney smiled, and thanked me.

"I always felt like I had to work for something." she explained, "I would exercise, and diet, and push myself to be thin, because I always let what other people thought get to me." Her smile turned brilliant, lighting up the dark room. "Then I found your bakery, and all these wonderful pastries, and suddenly I didn't care anymore." she said. Brittney took a step towards me, closing the distance and causing our bellies to bump against each other. That made Brittney giggle, and she continued, "I suddenly felt free and happy, that I could look how I wanted and eat what I liked, and you wouldn't judge me. That means more than you will ever know." With that Brittney closed her eyes, and leaned forward. I felt a rush of warmth run through me, and I reached forward, trying to bring my head to her's. This might have worked a month ago. At the sizes we were at now, with our massive weights, it wasn't possible. As Brittney rested more and more of her heavy body on me, I felt myself tipping backwards. Both of us let out a shout, as we fell, our bodies rippling with the impact. My belly burst free, buttons shooting into the air, and Brittney's sweater split at her sides, her round and heavy love handles spilling out. We lay there for a moment, shaking and jiggling with laughter. We wrapped our pudgy arms around each other, fat bouncing and wobbling, and pulled each other close, letting the heat from our warm bodies mix together. Finally, Brittney and I brought our plump lips together, and we kissed.