vvafflekink
patreon
Like Mother, Like Daughters (9)
🕑 Added 2023-05-05 02:53:13 +0000 UTCVeronica felt more bloated than she had ever felt in her life. She could almost swear she was at least half made of grease at this point. She was standing on the train platform, waving goodbye to Claire as the train finally pulled out of the station, coat off even though it was a chilly spring morning. She felt sticky and too warm.
It wasn’t exactly a mystery why she felt like sugar was oozing out of her pores. Really, it was all Claire’s fault. Well, Claire, and Veronica’s desire to impress her baby sister now that she finally felt like a real adult with grown-up money to spend.
Claire had insisted she use her spring break to visit Veronica. She wanted to see her sister’s new apartment–much nicer and more spacious than her previous place, with two good-sized bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the river running through the heart of the city–and told Veronica she would much rather spend the week exploring the city than sitting at home watching movies with their parents. (“Not that I don’t love them, just–I’m about to turn 19 and you’re only young once, you know?”)
Veronica had been excited to host her sister. Aside from a small housewarming party, she’d been alone in her new place. She was looking forward to a chance to show off a little.
In hindsight, maybe that was where she’d gone wrong. When she picked up Claire at the train station in the afternoon, she was riding a superiority high, eager to show her how cosmopolitan and successful she’d become. When the first thing Claire did was open up all the food delivery apps and marvel at the plethora of options available, she could’ve just acknowledged it and said they might order one or two things but that it would really be better for them to get out into the city and explore. Instead, she saw the piggish gleam in Claire’s eyes and told her, “Knock yourself out and order whatever you want. It’s not like you get to visit all that often, right?”
Claire hadn’t even thought twice about it, adding items to digital carts and practically drooling the whole time. Veronica wasn’t surprised by this in the least. Claire had gotten chunky, and it was really no wonder when she was clearly so eager to gorge herself. Not that Veronica could really judge these days.
An hour later, they were both tearing into plastic bags brimming with their order from an Egyptian restaurant, permeating Veronica’s apartment with the smell of hot shawarma and tender lamb shanks. Claire dug in like she hadn’t seen food in months, stuffing her face with bites of koshari, hardly pausing to breathe. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Veronica found herself eating a little faster and more enthusiastically than usual.
Veronica had been certain they would have leftovers by the time they were finished, but they practically licked every container and greasy wax paper wrapper clean. Their bellies were bloated outward, heavy, the occasional gurgle and belch escaping from deep within.
Claire was so full she conked out, sprawled out on Veronica’s couch, jean shorts unbuttoned so her wobbly gut could push free.
Veronica managed to stay awake, but only barely. She spent the rest of the afternoon quietly puttering around so as not to wake her guest, yawning constantly and too sleepy to really do much.
By the time Claire roused from her nap, it was too late for them to really go out and do anything. Veronica was still full from lunch, but Claire was hungry. Wanting to at least give her sister a little taste of the neighborhood (even though Claire insisted she would’ve been fine just ordering something again), they walked to the end of Veronica’s block to the pizza joint that stayed open until 2am. “They have single slices, and their burgers are actually really good, especially for the price,” she told Claire.
Claire bypassed Veronica’s implied suggestion of ordering a single slice and got herself an entire medium pizza. “We can share if you want!” she said, which Veronica understood to mean Claire had every intention of eating the whole thing herself, even though she ordered a double cheeseburger with extra everything on top of that. Veronica got her favorite–a massive slice of pepperoni with black olives–even though she felt a little twinge of regret for not ordering more. God, you don’t even need the one slice, she chided herself. Claire might be fine with chunking up and eating everything in sight, but Veronica liked to think she had a bit more self-control.
On Claire’s second day, they both managed to get up relatively early and do some sight-seeing. It was a beautiful spring day–unseasonably warm, almost summery. Veronica didn’t have much in the way of warm-weather clothing that still fit and opted for a stretchy high-waisted skirt and a cropped t-shirt that felt much tighter across her chest and around her upper arms than she remembered.
Claire was a little shocked when she saw her sister’s outfit for the day. The waistband of her skirt dug into her middle a bit, and her yellow t-shirt was tight enough that Claire could tell her sister clearly needed a larger bra. There was a smidgen of back and side fat squeezing out from around the band, and the cups were digging into her breasts, creating a distinct bulge. Claire didn’t think she looked bad–honestly, the whole outfit was cute–but she couldn’t help but try and calculate how much Veronica had gained. Ten pounds? Maybe fifteen?
She knew it wouldn’t be polite to say anything, and that even if she did it would just invite criticism of her own significantly softer body, but she felt a little twinge of satisfaction that perfect, uber-athletic Veronica had pudged up. Even if it was just a teensy bit, it made Claire feel less guilty for eating like such a pig.
There was plenty to see and do. They walked for miles. Claire felt that this was a perfect excuse to stop at a smoothie shop in the morning, and then an ice cream shop in the early afternoon. All the walking and sunshine left both their tummies rumbling. They wound up at a cheap sushi place Veronica had been curious about for a while. Veronica considered just ordering something simple, like a sashimi platter for them to share, but then Claire started rattling off her order. Most of her selections were the baked rolls, packed with mayonnaise and cream cheese. Veronica’s mouth watered a little at the thought of having an entire spider roll to herself, and it was all downhill for her waistline from there.
Yet again, they glutted themselves. Veronica got a round of sake for herself, the rice wine buzz making her feel even hungrier. Claire ate the lion’s share of what was on the table, which prompted a slightly drunk Veronica to feel like she deserved more even though she was already feeling full. When the waitress came back to check on them, Veronica ordered a platter of tempura “to share,” along with some other goodies and a few more of the rolls she’d liked the most–plus more sake, of course.
When they finished the last few bites, Veronica felt like she would pop. The sushi rice had expanded in her gut, and all the fried food and fat made her feel heavy and greasy. Claire seemed similarly incapacitated, putting a fist to her lips and belching as she discreetly pressed her hand against her belly, trying to relieve the pressure. The plan had been to keep walking around and doing touristy stuff, but it was obvious neither of them wanted to do that. So they paid for their extravagant repast, called an Uber, and wobbled their way back to Veronica’s apartment to sleep it off.
The rest of Claire’s visit passed in a similar fashion. The week passed by in a blur of overeating and food comas. They could both feel their own clothes getting tighter, and noticed the same happening to the other, but between all the tasty treats on offer and the way they found themselves accidentally encouraging each other to eat until they nearly burst, neither found much opportunity to mention it.
At least, not until Claire’s last night. They’d kept it casual, with an extra large pizza from the corner place to share and a quart-sized container of ice cream for each of them for dessert, with rum and cokes to drink along with it all. They were both in their pajamas on the couch, watching movies they’d loved as kids and making each other laugh.
Claire was fairly comfortable in an oversized t-shirt and leggings that were form-fitting but stretchy enough not to constrict her binging. Veronica was… much less comfortable. The older sister preferred to wear matching pajama sets and hadn’t replaced hers in a while. Her pajama shorts were tight on her thighs, and her belly had started to pooch out enough that it nearly hung over the too-tight waistband. The buttons on her pajama shirt had more than a few gaps showing through as it tried to stretch around her bust and newly-acquired gut. Veronica kept tugging at her shirt as they ate, to the point that Claire couldn’t help but notice, even though the haze of deliciously greasy pizza and an excess of rum. “Do you wanna borrow one of my PJ shirts or something?” she blurted out as Veronica tried to adjust her shirt again. “Yours looks a little too small.”
Veronica looked mortified, and Claire wished she hadn’t said anything. “No, I’m–I’m fine,” she said, biting her lip.
“Are you suuuure? Don’t you wanna just be comfy and relax?” Claire closed the distance between them on the couch, poking her finger into one of the gaps between her sister’s shirt buttons, giggling with surprise at how soft Veronica’s belly was. “Oh my god, Nic, you’re so squishy,” she squealed.
“Stop being weird!” Veronica told her. “I said I’m fine, let’s just eat and watch the movie.”
“Noooononono,” Claire said with a boozy shake of her head. “I gotta seeee. You and Minnie talk sooo much shit about me getting a little fat and stuff, but you’re getting kinda chubby too! I wanna see!” It took very little dexterity for her to undo one of the buttons over Veronica’s belly. Her stomach immediately pressed forward through the bigger gap.
“Claire!”
“Come on, we’re sisters, it’s fine. I’ve seen you in a bikini and in those teeny tiny workout clothes you used to wear to soccer practice like a brajillion times!” She undid another button while Veronica squirmed.
Minutes later, the whole pale dome of her was exposed. Claire giggled again, unable to resist poking and pinching at it. “Leave me alone,” Veronica pouted.
“It’s so cute, though. You’re like a cute little muffin now. You used to be so hard and muscly, and I think this is nicer. Besides,” she said, lifting up the front of her own shirt and pushing the front of her leggings down beneath her belly, “you got nothing to worry about, I’m definitely the fat sister.”
Veronica’s mouth fell open a little upon seeing Claire’s bare belly. She’d known her baby sister had gotten thicker, but she hadn’t realized how much Claire’s clothes had hidden her new figure. With her leggings pushed down, it was clear her belly would hang over every waistband. It was doughy and looked heavy. Veronica, almost as drunk as her sister, couldn’t help but reach out to squeeze it with both hands. “Fuck, you did get fat,” she said absently before realizing what she said. She tried to apologize, but Claire was wasted enough to laugh it off.
“I guess I did. But it’s okay. It doesn’t feel so bad or anything. Makes cheer a little hard, but I’m kinda bored with that stuff anyway. And! And! You know one thing neither of us ever has to worry about?”
Veronica was confused. “What?”
“Even if we both get really fat, you know we’re never going to be as fat as Momma.”
That sent them both into fits of giggles. Them, as big as their momma? Never in a million years, they were certain. So certain that they polished off all the pizza and ice cream as they left their guts out in the air the rest of the evening. They might be getting fat, but they’d never let themselves go that far.
The next day, they felt a little less optimistic about that. Neither of them talked about their antics the night before as they got ready to take Claire to the train. Both of them felt a little too hungover for much conversation, anyway. The weather was cool again, both of them bundled up enough to almost hide the effects of a week of overindulgence. Internally, Claire was trying to take a little responsibility for her wildly gluttonous behavior, while secretly blaming Veronica’s fat paychecks and hospitality for what had to be close to ten extra pounds piled onto her gut. Meanwhile, Veronica couldn’t help but think to point the finger at Claire for being such an infectious hedonist.
By the time they each left the platform–Claire on the train chugging out of the station, Veronica on foot on the way to the bus stop–they’d both decided it was the other woman’s fault, and absolved themselves of all blame while they ruminated on what they would eat for breakfast.
