Between the Cushions

It was a Wednesday morning when Aly settled into her favorite spot on the couch — an old burgundy loveseat she'd purchased off Craigslist — with an unread Cosmo in one hand and her favorite type of potato chips in the other. BBQ Lays, kettle-cooked, extra salty so she could lick off her fingertips one by one between page turnings.

"Those are gonna make you fat," Sarah said, laying out her yoga mat on the hardwood floor.

Aly frowned. Sarah's shorts sat just at just the right spot on her ass to call to question whether they should be considered shorts, or panties. She stretched her arms over her head as she spoke, and Aly couldn't help but steal a glance at Sarah's tone, taut belly. Her sports bra was the same color as her shorts — white — the color Aly generally avoided because it made the rolls of her belly look like scoops of whipped cream.

"I'm already fat," Aly said. Sarah settled into downward-facing-dog, hips to the sky and bottom cleft of her asscheeks peeking past the cotton of her shorts.

"Stop eating those chips, then," Sarah said. Aly turned her attention back to Cosmo and kettle chips. Maybe another day.

She brought both hands to the lip of the bag and pulled just as Sarah effortlessly brought herself into the splits. Like the legs on the floor before her, Aly's bag of chips spread open and scattered across the couch in what seemed like an endless flurry.

"Goddammit — " Aly gathered the chips into her hands, blocking out the thought of her belly coming to rest against her soft, heavy thighs. Some crumbs had settled onto her non-existent cleavage, a cruel trade-off in the Body Olympics; she gained weight everywhere else but her tits.

"See? The universe doesn't want you to eat junk food," Sarah said. Her voice sounded strained, and Aly glanced back to see her roommate balancing on her forearms in a full headstand.

She gripped the couch cushion in front of her and pulled it back with enough force to send some the bag fluttering to the floor — but Aly's attention was stolen by a small bottle nestled against the space under the cushions. It was a bright, lurid pink, and looked like a discarded test tube. Aly brought the tube closer to her eyes to read the cramped, flowing penmanship marking up a side of the tube:

"Feed your vices, one sip at a time."

"What the hell?" Aly said, which broke Sarah out of her mountain pose and over to Aly's side.

"It looks like a potion!" Sarah said. Aly rolled her eyes.

"It's probably from that couch's last owners. Drugs or something." Sarah shrugged. "You got it off Craigslist, right?"

Aly didn't respond; in the meat of her pale, fleshy palm, the liquid in the tube felt like it was steadily warming to match her body heat. Somewhere in the folds between her legs, something quivered. She frowned again — what the heck was that?

"Just toss it," Sarah said. She turned to roll up her mat, settling it against the wall by the couch. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Yeah," Aly said. She brought her sweater sleeve to her forehead and wiped a thin sheen of sweat that had started to form, but why she'd sweat in the middle of November was beyond her. She replaced the couch cushion and sat with the tube in her hands, eyeing the lid — it looked like it just twisted off — and Sarah's retreating form.

Once she heard the telltale sound of rushing water from the shower, Aly twisted off the cap and brought the liquid to her nose. It smelled like strawberries and sugar, and was thick enough to potentially qualify as a sauce — a realization that made Aly's stomach rumble. She blushed — she couldn't help it — and idly brought her hand under her hoodie and over her belly. She rubbed as she observed the liquid and the label ("One sip at a time"). Under her palm, her belly felt wide and endlessly squishy. Rubbing her own belly was Aly's guilty pleasure, for sure — she hated the way her body looked, but the way it felt under her hand was divine.

"I'll just taste it," she said to herself, and brought the tube to her lips. A voice somewhere in the back of her mind screamed something akin to "Stop!", but she was overwhelmed by curiosity, and a gentle throb developing in the dampness of her pussy.

The liquid tasted like cotton candy and berries and something she couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, Aly loved it.

She paused, waiting for — for what? When nothing happened, Aly shook her head, capped the tube, and settled back into her magazine with the remnants of her chips. It was stupid to think something would happen, anyway. It was stupid in every way.

She chose the biggest, saltiest chip she could find, and popped it into her mouth whole.

"Holy — " Aly gasped as her pussy tensed and her nipples hardened all at once. She felt under her hoodie to be sure — yup, the areolas of her A-cups felt like diamonds. As she gently poked and prodded the suddenly sensitive bits of skin, she shivered — her pussy, for the first time in forever, felt like it demanded attention, and now. As her hand traveled south, she wondered if she'd get a wet spot on the couch. It was hers, anyway — and she could just flip a cushion —

"Oh!" The hand that had been on her nipples clenched. It couldn't be — the skin and small reserves of fat under her palm felt as if it had pulsed outward. She pressed around her breasts — yup, definitely tender.

Aly replaced her hands at her sides and tried to consider her symptoms: tender breasts, unexpectedly wet pussy, sudden and overwhelming horniness ... Her fingers found her chips as she quietly wondered if she had some bizarre form of cancer, and she popped a handful into her mouth and chewed.

"Oh my god." Aly couldn't help but moan as her pussy gushed, her breasts pulsed, and the skin over her stomach pulled tight. She ripped off her hoodie and stared at her bra and her belly and the wet space forming at her crotch. Her bra, previously a size too large for her mosquito bites, felt tight. Her breasts felt engorged, and the skin over the new swell of her rack flushed red. She did a double-take at the sight of her belly, which seemed — smaller? Impossible. Just as impossible as her breasts. Which, as she chased a hand under her underwire, were definitely a moderate handful.

The test tube rested against her thigh, and Aly reread the label.

"Feed your vices — no way." She glanced at the bag of chips next to her and, hesitant and disbelieving, opened the test tube once more. She couldn't help it. She brought it to her shaking lips and swallowed more than a taste, more than a sip — it was a full and single gulp — and lifted the bag to her mouth, upending the rest of the chips and crumbs down her throat. She swallowed just as quickly as her stomach tightened, feeling not unlike an invisible corset tightening around her entire abdomen — and as she watched, her breasts surged, pulsing and bulging and hungrily lapping up her stomach fat. The unrestrained tops of her breasts jiggled in ways she had never known, and god, it felt damn good. She brought one hand to her pussy lips — wet and throbbing — and the other hand to her still-filling tits, which gorged and filled and pushed against the straining band of her bra, overflowing her padded cups so her nipples peeked free of the cotton. Aly moaned like she couldn't help it, and she couldn't, rubbing her clit between her fingers and watching her breasts press against the bra until — until —

Snap!

Free and buxom and quivering, Aly's new tits sat perfectly perky and full against her ribcage. She cupped them in her hands and guesstimated them to be at least a DD cup, maybe larger. She lifted them and let them fall in turn, watching the way they bounced, suddenly flat stomach forgotten.

"I need you," she said, grabbing the test tube and standing. She let her hands explore the expanse of her new body, with its toned thighs, flat stomach, and heaving, shapely tits. She clapped a hand around her ass and frowned. "You need some attention, too," she said, walking into the kitchen and savoring the way her tits bounced.

Aly grabbed what felt like every single bit of her favorite junk food items from the pantry: Oreos, peanut butter, sweet rolls, chocolate cereal, Poptarts, cinnamon bread, chocolate chip cookies. She upended the test tube and drained all of it, what must have been seven gulps worth of sweet sugary goodness, and tossed it into the sink. Her pussy dampened in anticipation. She tore open the Oreos and stuffed them into her mouth, one after the other after the other, and grabbed all of the sweet rolls and dunked each one of them into the peanut butter, chucking gobs of it down her gullet. She ate ravenously, breaking the Poptarts in half so she could eat them quickly, and briefly wondered if she'd exhausted the potion's effects until she noticed her ass straining against the back of her sweatpants.

She finished off the Poptarts, noting how her ass surged outward with each swallow, becoming fuller and rounder and pressing out her hips to accommodate its swell. She made short work of the cinnamon bread and cookies, wrapping the bread around each cookie and chewing quickly. She noticed a sudden coldness under her breasts, and realized they had grown large enough to rest against the granite countertop. As she leaned forward to peer into her pantry, they pooled onto the countertop, easily a size GG, if not larger. And they still pulsed.

Frenzied, Aly turned to the fridge, pussy juice running down her legs. She needed to address the needs of her cunt, and quickly, but first — an overwhelming thirst. She knew exactly the right thing to sate her thirst.

Pushing past Sarah's almond milk and blueberries, Aly wrapped her hands around her own personal pint of whole milk. She drank it in fits and open-throated gulps, letting streams of it pool down from her mouth and drip off the crests of her breasts, which threatened to dangle past her bellybutton. She tossed the pint to the floor and settled down onto her wide, cushy ass, running her hands — and arms — over her breasts, feeling the curves of her waist, savoring the entirety of her hips and the way her ass pressed out around her due to its heft.

"One thing left to do," she panted, and reached down to toy with her cunt. But at this point, her fingers couldn't quite reach — she struggled to push past the skin of her breasts, and the most she could reach was her clit. But her pussy felt so empty.

She spied the discarded test tube, and rammed it into her sweet, wet hole without thinking.

"Come on," she whispered, maneuvering herself into position to push and pull the tube in and out of her cunt. She paused at the sudden warmth of the tube, which didn't quite make sense, because it was supposed to be empty — but then it seemed to surge outward and inward, filling her like a real, fat cock. Aly moaned once more, throaty and from her very core, as she pushed and pulled the tube out of between her pussy lips in rhythm with her clit.

"Bigger," she panted. "Fatter".

And the test tube listened. It throbbed and thickened, pressing against the wet walls of her cunt and curving up to touch her G-spot. Her belly rumbled, and Aly realized it had listened in more than one way; as she fucked herself with the tube, her belly — once just as taut as Sarah's — seemed to fill, softening into a soft mass of fat and skin and rolls. She didn't fucking care. It felt so goddamn good to feel her tits, heavy and pooling outward; her ass, huge and round and bulbous; and the rising fatness of her belly and thighs, which gorged large enough to press against her arms and jiggle just as much as her gigantic tits.

"Fuck me," Aly cried. "Fuck me!" The tube moved in and out of her of its own accord, quickening at the perfect rhythm to match the pulsations moving through her clit and her tits and that endless jiggle; as her belly fat grew too large for her to reach her clit, she peaked, screaming as the test tube released a stream of what could only be jizz, filling her cunt and gushing out to mix with the juices lining her fat, dimpled thighs.

"Aly, are you okay — what the fuck?" Sarah said, pausing at the doorway to the kitchen.

Aly, flushed and sweaty and fatter than she had ever been, panted on the kitchen floor.

"Fuck me," she sighed. The test tube, back to its normal size, fell out of her cunt with a wet plop, clattering onto the floor by Sarah's feet.