Sorry for the delay. Things have been busy. But a few people have DM’d me wanting follow-ups, so it’s about time I give y’all the update.
It’s a bit long, so I got ChatGPT to summarize the story for those who can’t be bothered to read the full thing. You can find that in the following post.
We ended up changing the rules to something more along the lines of the original idea, as explained in my second post above:
- Roll a six-sided die six times and eat something at the corresponding restaurant. In the event of a repeated roll, chug a can of sparkling water AND eat something.
- We limited chugs on repeats to only one can no matter how many times a restaurant had been rolled previously.
- To get around the embarrassment of visiting a restaurant an obscene amount of times, my girlfriend could chug an additional can to re-roll on a repeat.
- Unfortunately there was a big event in town and there was no available parking. Instead, we walked about a half mile from her place to the cluster of restaurants, and I carried the cans in a backpack with an ice pack. That meant she would be chugging her sparkling water in public — on the go — and we had no home base for me to admire her growing belly in private.
Before we set off, my girlfriend finalized her six restaurants:
- A bar with a good food menu
- A vegetarian cafeteria
- A burger stand
- A chicken shop
- A courtyard of food trucks
- A gelato shop
For reference, my girlfriend is about 5’4", fit, and top heavy (not just her muscular arms). She likes to eat whole foods and rarely serves herself seconds. But even though she’s pretty skinny, her waistline expands like nobody’s business when she overeats or gets bloated, which honestly happens pretty often because she often drinks two or three cans of sparkling water a day.
For her outfit that day, she chose a tight, pink t-shirt that gripped to her stomach and made her boobs pop. The best way to describe it is she looked like a GTA 5 character: kinda trashy, but it fit the festival vibe of the street.
She rolled a 4, and off we went.
The chicken shop was pretty crowded, which was a little intimidating for me. The only spot we could find was in the middle of the indoor dining room at the end of a ling table, and shortly after we sat down, two girls squeezed in beside us. Physically, I was closer to this random chick, and our conversation certainly wasn’t private.
My girlfriend wanted to pace herself to start, so we split a falafel burger and fries. Falafel burgers are actually kinda heavy, and she said she was already feeling it after the half burger.
Next she rolled a 6, the gelato shop.
She got a single scoop of mint chip gelato on a cone and asked me to take a couple licks. Nothing special happened, although the people watching was fun.
Roll #3, she rolled a 3, the burger stand.
My girlfriend ordered a plain cheeseburger, which she ate on one of the picnic benches behind the stand. She tried to get me to take a bite, but I refused. I wasn’t gonna hold her hand through the challenge, particularly on what was likely the greasiest, most filling meal of the afternoon.
Soon enough, she vanquished her burger, which let out a death rattle in the form of a burp. She stifled it a little, but it was loud enough that the people behind me could have heard it.
We were both feeling pretty good about things at that point. She said she was getting full but still feeling strong at the half-way point. She commented that the dice had been good to her. I was satisfied that she’d already eaten a burger and a half, and although she said she was strong, I could tell the fatigue was setting in. Most of all, I was eager for her to roll a repeat to watch her add some carbonation and liquid volume to the mix. The odds suggested it was more a matter of when, not if.
It turns out the when was now.
She rolled a 4, meaning it was back to the chicken shop.
We left the burger stand, and I pulled out a sparkling water for my girlfriend. She cracked open the 12-oz. can and kicked it back as we walked. It was about a quarter mile back to the chicken place, and there were still plenty of people walking around for the nearby event.
I know I said the rule of the game was to “chug” the sparkling water, but my girlfriend isn’t the best chugger. Instead, she took a few long sips, stopping periodically to breathe and burp — her stomach and lungs competing for relief. All the while, people crossed us walking the other direction, several of them within earshot of her belches. To anyone paying attention, she must have looked like such a glutton: drinking, burping, and waddling her way down the street. And I say waddle, because she was struggling at this point.
My girlfriend once proclaimed to me that she’d never overeaten to the point that it was uncomfortable to walk. (We’ve since changed that.) In what to me were her most memorable words of the evening, my fit, athletic girlfriend stopped me and begged “slow down.” Normally an innocuous phrase, “slow down” told me everything I needed to know about how much the food and now the carbonation were weighing down on her.
Soon after that, she finished the can and handed it to me without saying anything. But I knew what she meant. She wanted me to throw it away so she didn’t have to walk any farther than she had to. As she continued walking, I distinctly remember her let out her biggest burp of the day as this tall, bald dude approached us from the other direction. He didn’t pass us for a good five, six steps, meaning he would’ve heard the burp and had the chance to eye her up.
I stole a glance at her body to see what he might’ve seen, and what I saw nearly made me trip over myself. Not only were her tits tightly framed, but the contours of her stomach were fully visible. You know how when a skinny girl gets extremely stuffed and the roundness of her belly clashes against their small frame? That’s how my girlfriend’s stomach was looking. Mind you, we were still only halfway through the challenge.
Soon enough, we got back to the chicken restaurant. The crowd was beginning to lighten up, so we had our choice of table, but we were a little nervous that we’d be recognized from earlier. We created a litle lie to tell to explain why we were back if someone recognized us. After we sat down, our waiter brought us the menus and asked “Have you been here before?” comically indicating that we had nothing to fear.
My girlfriend, still recovering and burping from her chug, stuck to a chicken salad this time. I remember one burp in particular that she did under her breath that I could still hear the rumble over the sound of the restaurant and the televisions around us.
She took it slow, but she finished the whole entree salad and I handed her the die.
She rolled a 5, the food trucks.
These were a cluster of six or seven food trucks that are parked not too far from the chicken restaurant. Our rule was that she would order something from just one of the food trucks, so it was a bit of a freebie to give her some variety.
My girlfriend settled on an order of egg rolls, which I think both of us would be a small side. I was a litle disappointed by that. But when the egg rolls were ready, it turns out the order brought three egg rolls, each as large as any egg roll that I’d ever seen. My girlfriend asked me to eat one, so I compromised and ate a half, leaving her with two and a half fried rolls.
She eventually polished them off, and even let out one more impressive burp. I remember telling her how impressed I was with her for having powered through to that point. It was time for the final roll of the day.
The last roll was 2, the vegetarian cafeteria.
Honestly, this cafeteria was the spot I was least looking forward to. My girlfriend had told me a story about going to eat there with a friend and leaving hungry because the portions were too small. When I call this place a cafeteria, I mean they serve you a tray with an assortment of items, but there’s no ordering. You just get one scoop of everything. It’s the weirdest model for a restaurant.
We walked about another quarter mile to the cafe, and when we got there, it was about 5pm and there was only one other guest inside. I immediately felt exposed in there. I paid for her meal at the cashier, and then she walked up to the service counter, where they tried to serve us two plates before we explained we only needed one. As I said, I was nervous to sit down in the restaurant, but it turns out there was outdoor seating, so we got to sit around back, where another couple sat talking loudly across the courtyard.
In her story about leaving this place hungry one night, my girlfriend made it out to be that the restaurant had small portions. But if most dinner plates are 10, 10.5 inches, this plate was easily a foot in diameter, and almost every inch of it was covered in food. There was a kale salad, a romaine salad, black beans, polenta, pickled cabbage, and stewed mixed vegetables, plus a bowl of starchy soup whose size was somewhere between a side soup and an entree soup. The plate alone was an oversized meal!
I would’ve loved to have eaten the plate myself, but I restrained myself to only sampling the items — except for the soup, which my girlfriend said she didn’t like. (I thought it had an unexpected tang but was overall pretty good.) Before she even started eating, she complained that she was already beyond full, yet she still managed to slowly spoon things into her mouth.
About halfway through, she declared that she needed a break and leaned back in the chair. As she leaned back, her belly protruded into the air, looming like a legitimate potbelly. It was so hot to see her engorged, comatose, and nearly defeated by her food. But I egged her on.
“We’re not leaving until you finish your plate,” I warned her.
She told me to eat a spoonful off her plate to give her the encouragement to finish the rest. I gladly did, and unbelievably, she rallied and cleaned off her plate. I bused her plate to give her a moment to recover, but it was finally time to head home — a one-mile, uphill trek.
I lavished praise on her as we left the cafeteria. It was a surprisingly long walkway for a restaurant, at least 100 feet between the front door and the street that cut through a pleasant garden. But just before we got to the gate, my girlfriend said she needed to sit down a minute. There was a bench just on the inside of the outer wall, still inside the garden and secluded from the public, so we just sat there and debriefed.
Over the course of three hours, she’d eaten the equivalent of at least four full meals and dessert, and downed a can of sparkling water.
Previously, she’d done two formative stuffings. The first was at an all-you-can-eat sushi place, where she downed an obscene number of rolls and bloated cartoonishly big. Not quite Kebab Queen level, but like Kebab Queen on a bad day. After that stuffing, she felt pretty ill and basically laid like a dead and bloated fish when we fucked. I loved that of course, but she and her gut didn’t enjoy it as much. The second formative stuffing was at an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet where she managed to out-eat me but watched her comfort level so she could be an active participant during sex that night.
So, sitting on that bench after having stuffed her face for three hours, I asked how she felt relative to those two stuffings. Between residual burps, she said somewhere in the middle. We counted out the number of meals she’d had, and she couldn’t believe it and was proud of her work.
Soon after, we began the hike home. We took it slow, because my girlfriend was still labored in her walking. I could see it in her movement. Her arms swayed unnaturally far as she walked, and I teased her about it. She commented that now she knew how it feels for pregnant people to walk.
We were in a back street and things were mostly empty now, but a group of five or six people now approached us. I turned to my girlfriend, and at this point I legitimately felt embarrassed about how she looked. Her tight shirt still contained her stomach, but it was glaringly apparent how round her belly had become. There was no way anyone walking by could overlook that.
Generally speaking, I loved that the parking situation forced us to walk more. However, the mile walk uphill was not ideal, because it kinda killed the vibe and got us all sweaty. And without the private car time and the number of people around, I felt watched and I didn’t feel like I had time to fully admire her belly.
The highs were the chug and the vegetarian cafe and the low was not getting to fully admire how stuffed she was. I hope we can try it again someday.
But yeah, looking back, that’s a bit silly.