Breakfast

[hmmm!]

From Soylentorange and myself; have a butt expansion story and a picture.
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"Thanks for letting me crash here," Matilda said as she wheeled her suitcase into Angela's apartment.
"No problem. It's within easy driving distance- the last thing either of us need to do is spend more money on a hotel."
Matilda smiled at Angela. The two had been classmates all through business school, and now they were both desperately seeking jobs. They'd done a bit of consulting work, but with the economy in the shape it was, there just wasn't enough money coming in. The Job fair Matilda and Angela were attending tomorrow was their last, best shot at not having to move back into their parents' places. Matilda rolled her Suitcase against the wall and made a beeline for the inflatable mattress on the floor of Angela's bedroom, flopping down and bouncing off it slightly.
"Tired?" Angela asked, grinning.
"Jet lag," Matilda moaned. "I hate airports, I hate flying, I hate the whole thing. If it wouldn't have been a ten-hour drive I never woulda come down all this way."
Angela chuckled. "Well, I'll cook up a bit of dinner, we'll eat, and then we can go to bed. Given the morning traffic we'll need to be asleep pretty early anyways."
"Sounds great," Matilda said, flipping over on the air mattress and kicking her shoes off.She stared at the ceiling, exhaling deeply, before turning her head towards Angela. Just through the door, she could see Angela standing at the sink, pulling out a cutting board. Matilda's eyes wandered down and settled on Angela's butt, eliciting a small wistful sigh. Matilda had always been jealous of Angela's curvy hips and pert bottom, something Matilda had never been blessed with. She developed in front all right- her breasts were probably a little bigger than most- but her backside had always been flat as an ironing board. The way Angela filled out a pair of jeans or subtly affected the hang of a skirt was something that made Matilda blush in spite of herself. Angela flicked her hands dry after washing them, grabbing the back of her pants with both hands and wiping the last few drops of moisture away, the two-handed grope making Matilda spin to her side on the air mattress, lest Angela see her eyes bug out and her cheeks flush.

Angela hummed a song to herself and swished her hips back and forth as she cut up the vegetables and cubed the meat for the stew she was making. She'd hoped that Matilda hadn't seen her grab her butt, or at least had seen the wash-wiping as a good enough excuse for it and didn't suspect any ulterior motives. The truth was, Angela loved her bottom, loved every cubic centimeter of firm, soft flesh. She loved the way it squished when she sat, how the ripples traveled from cheek to cheek and back when she gave one side or the other a sharp smack, loved how it filled her jeans. Of course, she'd never say as much to anyone- they'd think she was some kind of pervert. Still, it sufficed as her private enjoyment.

* * *

"Thanks again for cooking dinner and everything," Matilda said as she tucked her arm under her pillow on the air mattress.
"Hey, no problem," Angela replied, setting the alarm on her bedside clock. "I figure we could use something home cooked, considering tomorrow we'll probably be scarfing down eight-dollar sandwiches that taste like they're made of cardboard and will be about as nutritious..."
"Heh," Matilda chuckled, turning on her side. "Well, good night."
"Night," Angela replied, clicking off her bedside lamp. "see you in the morning."
Matilda closed her eyes, listening to the hum of Angela's refrigerator the next room over. The soft, steady drone of the appliance, combined with her jet lag, soon lulled her to sleep.

Matilda found herself floating in a void, groping for something to hold on to as she floated weightless in the dark. Finally her hands felt something soft and warm, and she grabbed on, taking a handful of the yielding material in each hand. She felt drawn to it, enraptured by it, the touch sending a tingle the length of her body. She adjusted her grip, now holding the sides of the object between her palms, noticing that it seemed to grow larger, warmer, softer somehow the longer she held it. She felt a tingling in her own rear, and felt her own butt getting larger, like she'd always wanted, like Angela's. Only, there wasn't any room for it to grow- she was pressed against a wall of some sort, the steady expansion of her bottom pushing her towards the still-growing thing in front of her. Matilda found herself unconcerned with any of this; all she wanted to do was receive more of the pleasurable sensation she got from holding the soft, warm object in front of her, her arms pressed in so deep the firm flesh pressed in around her elbows. Matilda leaned forward, feeling the soothing touch of her flesh against the twin globes of flesh in front of her, the force of her own rear's insistent growth pressing her slowly but firmly deeper. Matilda's arms were now nearly flung to her sides as she grabbed the great expanding globes that dominated her vision. Her world existed only of the soft, firm mass in front of her and the one behind her, the two constantly pressing tighter and tighter against her, picking her up off her feet as she became enveloped in a wall of soft flesh, lamenting only that she seemed to be running out of flesh to have contact with. At the moment she was completely enveloped, Matilda buried her face into the wall of soft flesh in front of her and moaned in ecstasy.

Matilda woke with a start, panting heavily. She was drenched in sweat, her sheets clinging tightly to her and her tousled hair feeling like she'd just stepped out of a sauna. She sat up, the air mattress creaking under her. Matilda looked to Angela, but she seemed to still be mercifully asleep. Matilda dug into her suitcase, pulling out a nightie and a fresh pair of panties, before skipping into the bathroom as quickly and quietly as she could.

As soon as the latch on the bathroom clicked, Angela tossed the covers off herself, flush with heat. She'd had a dream- of what, she couldn't remember- and the effect it'd had on her was plain to see. she was soaked in sweat, her heart beating wildly inside her chest. Between her covers, the indent her body made on the mattress was like a damp sponge, wet to the touch. Angela kicked aside her covers and made for her dresser, quickly donning a new set of panties and bra, kicking the old damp ones under the dresser where they couldn't be seen. Angela headed for the kitchen, hoping that cooking a breakfast on a hot stove could offer some sort of plausible deniability as to her condition.

Matilda splashed cold water on her face, the third such application since she'd dashed into the small bathroom. She stood up straight and took a deep breath, the rivulets of cold water falling down her neck and funneling into her cleavage. What had happened in her sleep? Matilda knew he'd had a dream, but the specifics were fleeting, ghostlike. She shook her head, a few errant drops flying on the mirror. Matilda still felt electrified, as though some low-level current were passing through her, but she felt she could at least function again. She picked her nightie and panties off the floor where she'd tossed them as soon as she ran into the bathroom, slipping them on and cracking the door open.

Angela flipped the eggs with her spatula, trying to cook them evenly. She pulled the sizzling bacon off the other skillet on the stove, slipping her hand in a hot mitt and pouring the bacon grease and other crumbs of greasy fat in with the eggs. Not exactly weight-watchers approved, but it added flavor, and Angela in her distracted state had gone for the first thing that looked good to her when she opened the fridge.
"Smells good..." Matilda said, startling Angela. She whipped her head to the doorway, seeing Matilda leaned against the doorjamb, holding her arms over her stomach. Did she look... apprehensive?
"Sorry I startled you," Matilda said, still hanging by the wall.
"No, no, don't worry about it," Angela said. "Just... jumpy, for some reason."
"Jitters," Matilda offered as she sat on one of the art deco barstools around Angela's table. "First day of the convention and all." Matilda caught sight of Angela's bottom, only a pair of white panties barely containing them, and felt herself flush with heat. She looked down at the table, twiddling her fingers in her hand. She wanted to look again- no, *needed* to, like Angela's swishing bottom had its own gravity. She felt an ache in her chest, like her heart was going to swell right into her throat. She gripped the edge of the table, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, I guess..." Angela said, concentrating on the two hot skillets in front of her. Underneath her hot mitt, she gripped the skillet with white knuckles, the prospect of hot grease and red-hot metal falling on her the only thing keeping her hand from reaching back to grab her butt, and then only just. She wanted to grab it, squeeze it, feel her flesh between her fingers. She felt her heart thudding in her chest so hard she saw spots briefly. Angela concentrated on just getting breakfast served, just do that, keep her hands busy...

Breakfast was stiff, awkward. The two girls couldn't even look at each other, only fidget uncomfortably in their seats. The food was hardly being eaten, mostly just shuffled from one part of the plate to the other. They stared intensely at their food, as though the formula for turning lead to gold was inscribed on the bacon. Matilda's mind was racing with only one thought, played over and over; how much she wished her backside was as plump and pert as Angela's, how much she wished she could have it, feel it, make it her own. Her hands trembled as she held her fork, like she was going to lunge under the table at any second. Her chest felt like it was ready to pop; and she knew that vocalizing her desires was the only way to postpone acting on them.
"A-angela?" Matilda ventured, the screaming hurricane of emotion inside her only escaping in tiny drops from her mouth.
"...Yeah?" Angela responded, looking up- slowly, jerkily- into Matilda's eyes.
"I-" Matilda bit her lip, wanting to look down but unable to break Angela's stare. "Have I- did I ever tell you how much I love your butt? I wish I had one just like it."
Angela's lips twisted as though she were going to laugh, but just as quickly her mouth dropped open, her eyes unfocusing. Matilda couldn't even begin to formulate her next words, a sudden heat radiating through her like stepping outside an air-conditioned house in the dead of summer. She felt her rear tingle, feeling herself press into the leather seat a little more firmly, felt her panties becoming just a little tighter.
"I... you..." Angela stammered, her fork clattering to the ground as her hands gripped the edge of the table.
Matilda could see Angela grinding her bottom against her chair, her hips gyrating as they slowly swelled out. Matilda finally couldn't take it any more. Her hands fell under the table, reaching for her backside even as she felt it still growing outward, the curves of her thighs slowly creeping towards one another. Her fingers trembled with desire, wanting to be everywhere at once, the end result being a slow, uncertain approach, until the rear curve of her bottom finally made contact with her hand.

Like the last drop breaking surface tension, her hands fell upon her backside in a torrent of squeezing and groping, her pink flesh pushing out between her fingers as she tried to grab her pelvis by way of her butt. Matilda gasped in shock, the sensation electric, the tightness in her chest seeming to contract in on itself a hundredfold as she felt her rear forcing her fingers apart inch by inch, despite her repeated and incessant attempts at groping the entirety of her posterior in her hands. She lowered her gaze from the ceiling to Angela, whose own posterior was making remarkable progress, now completely overflowing her stool from all sides. Angela was hunched over her plate, breathing heavily, lost in the sensations as she continued to grind her hips against the stool. A creaking sound could be heard as the stool was pushed away from the table slightly, the space between it and the table filled with Angela's flesh.
"Is... are you feeling this too?" Matilda gasped as she felt the cool metal from the underside of the table give her goosebumps as her thighs grew into it.
Angela leaned into the table, pulling her head back with half-lidded eyes and her lower lip gently bit between her teeth. "Yes," she finally replied, another creak in the stool as her burgeoning posterior pushed it even farther away. A rattle in the middle of the table caused her to look down, seeing the pepper shaker had fallen over, it's top falling off and rolling a short distance before falling flat. Matilda realized, somehow through her haze, that the table was tilting because the combined mass of her and Angela's thighs had lifted the table completely off the ground. Before she could think to set the table down- or think much of anything coherent with all the sensations her rear end was sending her- the table jerked violently sideways as Angela's legs twitched, her knees slamming together and causing a shockwave of flesh that would inspire envy in a mechanical bull. The plates and utensils slid off to the ground, Matilda's glass of orange juice tipping over and the pepper shaker rolling in a lazy semi-circle, spilling more pepper as it went. Angela stopped the spills by throwing her torso forwards, slamming the table down to the ground as she laid atop it.

Matilda could now appreciate just how large Angela's bottom had gotten. Laying on the table as she was, her rear was nearly level with her shoulders, the stool completely vanished behind her expansive thighs and ponderous posterior. Only the occasional creaking and groaning of the hollow metal tubes bending in unnatural ways gave any indication to its presence. Angela stared forward, her face inches off the table. Matilda could see Angela's breath condensing in small puffs on the formica. Her eyes looked unfocused, feral, like a crazy person's. "A-angela..." Matilda managed, her hands still kneading the twin globes of her rear as if being controlled by some other mind than her own. "Angela, c-can you- haahhh- hear me?"
Angela continued to stare, her breathing deep as her bottom expanded further, the upper crest of her rear now rising higher than her head, only the tightly-pulled panties interrupting the graceful curve of her backside.
"A-Angela!" Matilda cried out as her stool gave away from the weight pressed on it, one leg buckling under itself and causing Matilda to pitch forward, her foot stopping herself on the ground as her enormous thigh squeezed under the table. Angela raised her head, looking Matilda in the eyes, though still seeming so stare straight through her, as though Angela was lost in her own world.
"...More..." Angela moaned, before her eyes rolled back in her head and she clenched her eyelids shut in ecstasy.

Matlida opened her mouth to speak again, but all that escaped her lips was a choked gasp as her ever-working hands found some new, unexplored fold of flesh to grope and massage. The intensity of the heat inside her reached a crescendo, Matilda feeling as though she could ignite in ecstatic flames at any moment. Suddenly the dream returned to her, in full sensory detail, and Matilda felt the pleasure of the ethereal past and the lurid present meld into a seamless torrent of intense erotic pleasure.
"Grab it!" Matilda cried out, leaning back and groping herself with renewed vigor. "Juh-huh-hust grab it!" She yelled, as though commanding the frantic groping of her arms.
"More... I wa-ha-hant more..." Angela breathed, her rear and thighs almost completely filling the space between the table and the floor. Angela slid back off the table, only her white-knuckled hands and her head still above the horizon of the table as she seemed to be enveloped into her own rear. Matilda felt herself slipping off even the shoddy support of the deformed stool; despite the fact that her enormous, bulbous thighs created a nearly solid wall of flesh between her bent legs and the floor, her even larger rear was an insurmountable amount of ballast to struggle against.
"Angela!" She yelled as she threw her hands forward, even the momentary break in the furious kneading and groping making her positively ache with desire. Nevertheless, Matilda's cry was enough to rouse Angela from her frenzied stupor, and Angela caught Matilda's hands in her own, their fingers intertwining across the table. Matilda and Angela grabbed each other's hands with white knuckles, their tenuous footholds only sustained by the counter-weight of the other's equally enormous rumps. Matilda felt the flesh of her rear pressing against her own back, the fabric of her cotton nightie grinding into her shoulderblades. Angela's panties, long since reduced to an impossibly-stretched thong, were the only interruption in a mountain of flesh that threatened to envelop her entirely. Despite the encroaching wall of flesh and the creaking and groaning of the table, Angela's only expression was the mad grin and feral eyes of one lost in the throes of indescribably joyous pleasure. Matilda, for her part, wore a mask of unquenchable desire and need, the incessant, life-threatening demands of her rump to be touched, fondled, manipulated in any and every way possible.
"Rub it... rub it..." Matilda gasped.
"More... more..." Angela groaned.
As the incessant wall of flesh loomed higher and higher above them, the girls found themselves sinking to the ground, the table unable to accommodate their weight. Still their hands remained locked together, a death grip that seemed to serve as an umbilical cord of pleasure between them, as they finally realized the two halves of the same dream they occupied.

Finally, with a reluctant groaning and snapping of metal, they were on the floor, the titanic masses of their lower halves very nearly creating a fleshy cave the two found themselves sharing, a sauna of sweat and panting breaths as their internal fire finally blew out, the intense sensations dropping to smoldering embers. Realizing where they were for seemingly the first time, the two panting women looked at one another, exhausted yet satisfied smiles on their faces.
"M-Matilda?" Angela gasped, swallowing hard.
"Y-yeah?" Matilda panted out, brushing sweat-slicked hair from out of her eyes.
"Have... Did I ever tell you how much I admire your boobs?" Angela stammered, causing the embers to blaze to life once more.

[manigma]

Win!

[TickTock]

Bravo dear sir, bravo!

[Metatron]

Originally Posted by manigma

Win!

I'll add epic to that

[F-Sophitia-F]

*Watches moderation be taken out back and shot*

[Pieceofpoo]

Any chance there will be a sequel?

[SoylentOrange]

Eh, I wrote one, but it was never illustrated, and I wasn't too happy with it anyways- this was meant to be aone-note quickie, like "Water-tight", so trying to stretch it out into something more wasn't really gonna work...

[F-Sophitia-F]

Originally Posted by SoylentOrange

Eh, I wrote one, but it was never illustrated, and I wasn't too happy with it anyways- this was meant to be aone-note quickie, like "Water-tight", so trying to stretch it out into something more wasn't really gonna work...

You mean you weren't aiming to create a new franchise!?

[SoylentOrange]

No, it was just a vignette.

[SoulChaser]

I love pic nice art work love idea hehe.