The Party

(set: $hasKey to false) The rumors were true--Jenny Petersen is getting fat! You had heard whispers in the High School hallways for a few weeks, but figured it was just idle chatter from jilted jocks and gossipy girls. Of course, that didn’t keep you from attempting to spot Jenny at school, but all you could find were old photos from a “Stop Underage Drinking” poster campaign she spearheaded at the beginning of the school year and she looked the same as always in those: gorgeous. Blessed with full pouty lips, crystal clear blue eyes, high cheekbones, and silky blond hair waving its way to the center of her back, Jenny was a stunner. Your personal favorite facial feature were her dimples, both chin and cheek, that softened her pearly-white smile and projected a warmth that kept her from being too intimidating. Of course, the campaign poster didn't show her body. Now THAT was intimidating! Jenny's figure was flawless--and not flawless in the underfed fashion model sense--flawless in the horny anime artist sense. With a bodacious body bordering on cartoonish, you'd be forgiven for expecting her mind might be sketchy. But it wasn't, and your futile efforts to glimpse her gain evidence that fact. Let’s face it--you don’t exactly run in the same academic circles as li’l Ms. Advanced Placement. She attends classes in wings of the school you've never even visited. And you certainly don’t run in the same social circles. You had come to the party that night as a favor to your Mom, who is a friend of the mother of the popular kid who invited you as a favor to his. Nevertheless, there you were and there she was. You almost didn’t recognize her. First of all, she was alone. On the rare occasions you did see Jenny in the halls, a gaggle of girls always trailed behind her like Paparazzi around a starlet, complete with the fake shutter click of their Smart phone cameras as they posed for duck-lipped selfies. Yet there she was, standing by herself near a table overflowing with snacks. Secondly, she had packed-on some serious pounds. You expected typical High School hyperpole ("Never let the truth get in the way of a good story," your Grandma used to say), but Jenny's gain was obvious--maybe moreso to you since you hadn't seen her in weeks. She was dressed demurely in a jean skirt and sleeveless white button down blouse. At least, it would have been demure a few months ago. The blouse was untucked, but its tail in front barely extended below her waistband, while the longer tail in back bunched up above the significant slope of Jenny's well-padded posterior. Along the sides, where the blouse rounded higher, a tantalyzing glimpse of muffining flesh could be found. Every few seconds, Jenny would either pull down the hem of her blouse, or pull up the waistband of her skirt. The latter seemed to be more effective, as her sweater stretchers had swelled to the point little slack was available up top. Jenny wasn't one to show off her sizable assets (if anything she tried to downplay them), but undoing one more button might've been prudent. It would have given her puppies more breathing room and prevented puckering of the buttons containing them. It also would have distracted people--at least the guys in the crowd--from her sizable gain. She still looked really good, however, and if it weren't for her self-consciousness and woebegotten wardrobe she'd probably still look great. Despite Jenny's athleticism (she was Head Cheerleader and played on the varsity volleyball team), she always had full breasts and womanly hips. And unlike "skinny fat" girls, the phenomenon where flab looks out of place on an otherwise lithe and athletic form, Jenny's hourglass figure seemed to have welcomed the pounds like a liberating army, with the legions of lard dispersed uniformly across the buxom beauty. It might not be Jenny's destiny to be fat, but her body was clearly open to suggestions. You ordinarily wouldn’t have the nerve to talk to a girl of Jenny’s stature and beauty, but her sudden vulnerability, coupled with the liquid courage flowing inside you, has you wondering if you should say hello. You aren’t complete strangers—you had been in the same fifth grade class and were even lunch buddies for awhile, sharing a table and playing four-square during recess with mutual friends. Of course, this was before puberty blossomed her out of your league. You take a swig of your beer and spy the slight sag of her flesh-filled fun bags and the gentle ridge of soft flesh poking over the waistband of her rivet-tight jean skirt. You feel your own jeans start to tighten. Perhaps she was over-ripening back to attainability? Of course, part of you wants to see if she abandons false modesty and plunges into the assortment of fattening goodies. (You doubt she’ll make a pig of herself with a male audience.) You’re pretty sure it’s your brain trying to save you from an almost assured rejection, but at least it makes a compelling argument. Do You: A.) [[Walk over and say hello|say hello]]. B.) [[Lurk from across the room a bit longer|lurk]].

You chug your remaining beer and stride as confidently as you can to the Cheerleading captain, though your weak knees make it more of a bow-legged strut. You try to think of something clever as you siddle up beside her at the food table, but all that comes from your mouth is: “Hey...Jenny.” “Hey!” she shouts. Even with the music blaring it’s louder than it needs to be. Her cheeks dimple gently as she smiles. She looks genuinely pleased (or relieved) to see you. What do you say?: A.) “[[Can I get you a beer?]]” B.) “[[What do you recommend?]]” C.) “[[You look nice tonight.]]”

She smiles politely, but looks disappointed. "I don’t like to drink." Inside, you kick yourself. How did you forget those underage drinking posters with her beautiful face plastered all over school? You’re fortunate you polished off your beer before you came over. “If you must imbibe, stay inside!” You raise your finger high in the air like you’re saying something profound. Jenny smiles again. Genuinely this time. “Catchy, huh?” “Did you write that?” "I did." You nod your head approvingly. It doesn’t exactly rhyme, but you decide against mentioning it...especially since it appears you’ve righted the ship. What do you say now? A.) "[[I don’t really drink either|Don't drink]]." B.) "[[Have you never had anything to drink?|Never drink?]]" C.) [[Change the subject and bring up an old school story|Mrs. Greenbaum]].

(set: $hasKey to true)\ Jenny's face brightens and you see her fully-dimpled smile for the first time tonight. "Really?" she says. "That’s cool." "Yeah, drinking's not really my thing." Jenny looks around the room. "A lot of times I come to these parties and don’t really feel comfortable because everyone else is. I don’t like hanging around drunk people." "Then why do you come?" "I feel like maybe I can help keep people out of trouble...and I don’t mind being a designated driver." You suddenly feel guilty for lying to Jenny. She’s a pretty cool girl. What do you say now? A.) [[Have you never had anything to drink?|Never drink?]] B.) [[Gesture at the snack table and say, “What are your views on snacking between meals?”|Eating]] C.) [[Change the subject and bring up an old school story|Mrs. Greenbaum]].

Jenny laughs. "Oh, I’m all for it." She gently pats her belly. "Obviously." "It’s not obvious to me. This is obvious." You push your stomach over the waistband of your jeans. You’re an average sized dude, but you’ve always had the ability to protrude your belly a freakish amount. It’s not the talent you would have chosen for yourself, but there you go. “Oh, my God,” Jenny gasps. “How do you do that?” Tentatively, she guides her finger towards your comical potbelly, then recoils from its touch as if receiving a static shock. “It’s so hard!” “Yeah, well, I’ve been working out. Can’t you tell?” You jut your belly out a tad further. Jenny covers her eyes. “Oh, God, please stop that!” “FEED ME!” You say in a low growly voice. She keeps her eyes covered. “Only if you promise to stop that!” “Fine.” You return your stomach to its resting position and Jenny slowly uncovers her eyes. “What shall I feed my alien baby?” She takes a moment to ogle everything on the table. “It all looks so good, doesn’t it? I haven’t tried anything yet, but I made the brownies.” She points to a rather sparse platter of moist looking brownies. They’re displayed in a manner that suggests rearranging to fill empty space. You suspect Jenny might have fibbed about trying anything. “Well that decides it.” You grab a large one from the modest stack and take a bite. “Mmmmm,” you say, suddenly aware that you’re talking with the most beautiful girl in school while eating the messiest food imaginable. She laughs and hands you a napkin as you cover your mouth with your hand. “Thank you,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth as you wash your teeth with your tongue. You pray a blob of chocolate isn’t lodged between them. “I know they’re VERY messy. I made them that way so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat them.” Oh c’mon, every good chef has to try their dishes. Oh, I do. Jenny places a hand over her belly. And I did. You should have seen me a few hours ago before I took my shower. I had chocolate everywhere. The stiffness in your pants grows. You decide to push the envelope. You say: A.) "[[I didn’t think cheerleaders could eat this stuff?|cheerleaders]]" B.) "[[How do you stay so skinny?|Skinny]]" C.) "[[Your turn (as you hold the brownie out to her)|Jenny eats]]."

Jenny hesitates a moment, then maneuvers her mouth around the fattening treat as her moist lips linger against your chocolate stained fingers. “Mmmm,” she says, after devouring the decadent dessert. “What’s next?” You could fall for this girl. Seriously, what is next? A.) [[More food!|lots of eating]] B.) (if: $hasKey)[ [[Suggest a beer run.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[ [[Suggest a beer run.|get beer]]] C.) [[Ask her what she’s in the mood for.|7 Layer Dip]]

"Ha! I’m far from skinny." "Well, you’re certainly not fat. My Aunt Kim, now she’s fat. You would look like a before picture on one of those diet ads next to her." Jenny laughs. “I think you mean the after.” "Oh, yeah, right." You hold your brownie up to her. "I think it’s your turn." Jenny hesitates a moment, then maneuvers her mouth around the fattening treat as her moist lips linger against your chocolate stained fingers. “Mmmm,” she says, after devouring the decadent dessert. “I may give your Aunt a run for her money.” Your erection hits new heights. What is next? A.) [[More food!|lots of eating]] { (if: $hasKey)[B.) [[Suggest a beer run|Ending #11]]] (else:)[B.) [[Suggest a beer run|get beer]]] } C.) [[Ask her what she’s in the mood for|7 Layer Dip]].

"I did...once," Jenny says. "It wasn’t pleasant. I hated feeling like I wasn’t in control. And you can’t always trust people you think you can...especially if they’ve been drinking too." Jenny sighs heavily. There’s definitely more to her story. "That’s the main reason I still come to these parties. Somebody needs to stay level-headed." Jenny shakes her head. "Usually there's not enough room in my Audi for all the knuckleheads." How do you respond? A.) "[[You’re a good person for doing that|Good person]]." B.) [[Gesture at the snack table and say, “How do you feel about eating?”|Eating]] C.) [[Change the subject and bring up an old school story|Mrs. Greenbaum]].

"Thanks. I just wish I had somebody looking over me." Her blue eyes moisten, but she doesn’t cry. The beautiful brave face she presents you belies real pain. You’re not exactly sure how deep you should probe—you hardly know her after all—but trying to switch back to casual conversation now seems silly. A.) [[Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?|I'm a pretty good listener. Wanna talk about it?]] B.) [[I’d be happy to watch over you]]. C.) [[My Grandma always used to say that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger|what doesn't kill us]].

Jenny looks around, then grabs your hand and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past Tad Fifer (the captain of the football team), a gaggle of gawking girls, and a pack of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the puckered collar of her blouse reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Do you really want to know?" She says in a breathy whisper. No, what you really want is to push her back on the bed and ravage her, but you’re pretty sure now's not the time. You like her. You don’t want to be a dick. You suspect she’s had to deal with her share. A.) "[[Definitely|Tad rape]]." B.) "[[I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable|Ending #18]]."

(set: $hasKey to false) Jenny exhales audibly then begins her tale. "About four months ago, right at the start of the year, I went to a Senior kick-off party with Tad Fifer. You know Tad?" You nod. Everybody knows Tad. "There wasn’t supposed to be alcohol there, so I wasn’t even thinking about it. Anyway, Tad kept bringing me this punch. It was really good and I kept asking for more of it. Anyway, I must’ve had 3 cups in 15 minutes. Then all of a sudden it hit me. I felt flush and light-headed...but really, really good. It hit me so fast I didn’t even have time to get mad. I knew what had happened, but I felt so carefree and loose I didn’t stop. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in my own bed the next morning in the same clothes I had on. At first, I was grateful that Tad got me home safely, but then I noticed the clasps of my bra were done up wrong and...well... there were other clues." You squirm a bit. Why is she telling you all this? You’re not exactly close. Maybe you just answered your own question. "Anyway, I confronted Tad the next day and he swears nothing happened. It’s not like I have much recourse even if it did. Anyway, I felt ashamed...violated...stupid. I had just posted those underage drinking posters a few days before. I felt like a hypocrite." Jenny let’s out a dry chuckle. "Now I just feel like a hippo." How do you respond?: A.) "[[What do you mean?|30 pounds]]" B.) "[[How can I help?|friend]]" C.) "[[That Tad is an asshole|asshole Tad]]."

"What do I mean?" Jenny lifts her shirt and squeezes the blubbery ring of fat encircling her formerly trim waist. "I’ve put on 30 pounds in three months! I can’t stop eating and have zero desire to work out. I have zero desire to do much of anything." You put your arm around her and she leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hair smells like strawberries. You gently rub her arm. It’s silky smooth. Her bicep is thicker than you expected, but still pretty firm. The pounds she’s added haven’t wiped-away years of exercise and self-discipline just yet. You sit in silence with her for a moment, then: { (if: $hasKey)[A.) [[Lean in to kiss her.|kiss on bed II]]] (else:)[A.) [[Lean in to kiss her.|Ending #7]]] } B.) [[Ask if there’s anything you can do.|friend]] C.) [[Let her know what you think of that asshole, Tad.|asshole Tad]]

Jenny chuckles softly. "Y’know, it’s weird. I’m not really mad at Tad. I know I should be. I’m more mad at myself. I’ve just been avoiding him." "My grandmother would say that’s avoiding the problem." "Do you blame your grandmother whenever you say something that might piss people off?" "No, merely giving credit where credit is due. Personally, I’d say ignore Tad and keep eating brownies." Jenny laughs and wraps her arms around you. She pulls you close against her warm and yielding bosom and gives you a kiss on the cheek with an audible 'Muah' sound. "Thank you," she says. "We’d probably better get back to the party before people start to talk." You'd be fine with people talking, but you dutifully stand and offer her your hand. She declines it. "Why don’t you go ahead?" she says. "I need to compose myself for a second. I think Tad and I are going to have a little chat." You walk out the door and down the stairs past another couple on their way up. As you reach the bottom, you find the party has doubled in size. You also find Tad Fifer waiting for you on the last step. Even though he’s a step below you, he’s still taller. "What’d you do with Jenny, dork?" You smile wryly. "Well, I didn’t rape her that’s for sure." Tad’s eyes bulge and his face turns bright red. "Is that what that bitch told you!?!" Then he shoves you hard against the railing and storms up the stairs. Do you: A.) [[Grab his arm|Tad arm grab]]. B.) [[Follow him up]]. C.) [[Let him go]].

You grab Tad’s arm to stop his ascent. It works...for a second. Then he rips his arm free, turns around, and punches you right in the face. You fall backwards. The last thing you feel is your head hitting the drywall at the base of the stairs. [[Are you dead?|hospital]]

“You awake, sweetie?” You open your eyes, and are greeted by an angelic face haloed in brilliant light. For a second, you wonder if you’re dead...but then you hear the whirl of medical equipment and realize the ethereal light is merely hospital white. Beside you is Jenny, still dressed in her party attire. “You look like an angel” you say, the daze from your injury affecting your natural tendency to self-sensor. "Must be that bump on your noggin,'" Jenny says, wryly. "Is it bad?" You touch the side of your head. It's tender and there's a bandage wrapped around it. "Just a concussion. The doctor didn't want to tell me since I'm not 'family.'" Jenny makes air quotes with her fingers. "But I was able to pry it out of him." "Oh, yeah," you say, smiling. "How'd you do that?" She leans in closer. "Maybe I'll show you when you get out of here." "Can you show me now while Tad's not around?" Jenny's back straightens. "You don't have to worry about Tad." "How do you mean?" "Let's just say some serious skeletons spilled from his closet tonight." You nod your head. It hurts. "I wish I could've seen that." "Well, it wouldn't have happened without you." Jenny leans to kiss you just as your parents walk in. She quickly diverts her lips to your forehead and pecks your bandage. "Next time," she whispers. "See you Monday?" you ask, as she sashays towards the door. "You better!" Jenny blows you a kiss, smiles at your folks, and exits into the hall. Your Dad makes a 'wow' face behind your Mom's back. "Who was that, son?" "That was Jenny Petersen." You put your hands behind your bandaged head and smile. "You're going to be seeing a lot more of her." THE END Epilogue: [[But what of you and Jenny?|Epilogue]]

"Oh...thanks." Jenny sucks her stomach in and pulls her skirt higher up around her waist. It’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same way. “You look nice, too.” She sounds equally convincing in her compliment of you as in her reception of yours. You’re not a bad looking guy, but you’ve never put a lot of effort in your appearance. Apparently, your untucked shirt and weathered jeans combo isn’t exactly wowing her. This is going badly. Do you: A.) [[Offer her a beer?|Ending #2]] B.) [[Bring up an old school story|Mrs. Greenbaum]]. C.) [[Suggest she try a brownie|Ending #1]].

"You really should try one of those brownies. They’re to die for." You wince at that last sentence, but you’re not exactly a wordsmith and your experience conversing with perfect 10s (even not-quite-perfect 10s) is nonexistent. "I just brought the brownies," Jenny says flatly. "Not sure how you tried them since I’ve been standing here ever since." You playfully smack your hand to your head. "Oh, I meant the cookies. I recommend you eat a cookie." Jenny rolls her eyes. "I recommend you eat shit." And with that, she struts away, her beefy buns undulating beneath her denim skirt with each step. She reaches a trio of girlfriends, casts you a dismissive glance, and then joins them in a laughter-filled conversation. You really couldn’t have butchered this much worse. Oh well, she was probably saving herself for marriage anyway. THE END

"Are you dense? Do you think those underage drinking posters I plastered all over school are some sort of front? Have a good time." You stand in stunned silence as Jenny struts away, her beefy buns undulating beneath her denim skirt with each step. She reaches a trio of girlfriends, casts you a dismissive glance, then joins them in a laughter-filled conversation. You really couldn’t have butchered this much worse. Oh well, she was probably saving herself for marriage anyway. THE END

Jenny looks at you quizzically. “Oh,” she says. “You mean the food.” She takes a moment to ogle everything again. “It all looks so good, doesn’t it? I haven’t tried anything yet, but I made the brownies.” She points to a rather sparse platter of moist looking brownies. They’re displayed in a manner that suggests rearranging to fill empty space. You suspect Jenny might have fibbed about trying anything. “Well that decides it.” You grab a large one from the modest stack and take a bite. “Mmmmm,” you say, suddenly aware that you’re talking with the most beautiful girl in school while eating the messiest food imaginable. Jenny laughs and hands you a napkin as you cover your mouth with your hand. “Thank you,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth as you wash your teeth with your tongue. You pray a blob of chocolate isn’t lodged between them. “They’re VERY messy. I made them that way so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat them.” "Oh c’mon, every good chef has to try their dishes." "Oh, I do." Jenny places a hand over her belly. "And I did. You should have seen me a few hours ago before I took my shower. I had chocolate everywhere." The stiffness in your pants grows. You decide to push the envelope. You say: A.) [["I didn’t think cheerleaders could eat this stuff."|cheerleaders]] B.) [["How do you stay so skinny?"|skinny]] C.) [["Your turn" (hold the brownie out to her).|Jenny eats]]

"They’re not supposed to." Jenny rests a hand against her soft belly. "And I’m beginning to find out why." As you nosh the brownie you contemplate your next words carefully. You feel like you may be walking into a trap. A.) "[[So what if you’ve put on a few pounds?|few pounds]]" B.) "[[What do you mean?|getting fat]]" C.) "[[My Grandmother would say that you can’t stop living.|grandmother]]"

Jenny’s face changes...and not for the better. "That’s fucking easy for you to say. I’m losing everything. I’ve lost my boyfriend. I’ve lost my spot on the cheer squad. My mom says I’m losing my looks and I’m sure as hell going to lose the deposit on that size 8 prom gown!" Partygoers turn to face you. Jenny realizes she's creating a scene and brings it down to a terse whisper-- "Not that anybody’d take me anyway." She looks pitiful. What do you say: A.) "[[I’d take you|Ending #3]]." B.) "[[A guy would be crazy not to take you|Ending #5]]." C.) "[[Sorry, that was a stupid thing for me to say|no idea]]."

Jenny rolls her eyes. “Great. This is the first you’ve talked to me in, what, five years? Do you think I’m easy now that I’m fat?” “You’re not fat. You’re beautiful.” “Thanks, but I don’t need false flattery.” She grabs her platter of brownies and brushes past you. “Especially from a geek like you!” The room goes quiet as Jenny clomps towards the exit. You stand in stunned silence for a moment before shouting after her: “Did you say flattery or FATTERY?” Laughter and cat-calls erupt from the crowd. Jenny faces you from the doorway, tears welling in her eyes. Unable to come up with a response, she slams the door behind her. The din of the crowd swells as the door slam fades. A few guys come up and slap you on the back. Tad Fifer even brings you a fresh beer. It’s an extremely hollow victory. THE END

Jenny contemplates your words for a second, then breaks into a dimpled smile. “No. No you can’t.” She grabs a brownie—the biggest one left—and holds it up to you. “Cheers!” You dutifully touch your brownie to hers and you both take a bite. Jenny laughs and covers her mouth with her hand as crumbs drop from her lips. Most hit the floor, but a sizable one finds the cavern of her cleavage. "Oh my God!" Embarrassed, Jenny turns away to fish it out. After successfully retrieving the morsel, she turns back to you and pops it in her mouth. “I think we may both need a shower after this.” Jenny’s face turns deeper crimson as she realizes what she’s said. You hope the bulge in your pants isn’t obvious. { (if: $hasKey)[A.) [[You know what goes great with brownies? Beer!|Ending #11]]] (else:)[A.) [[You know what goes great with brownies? Beer!|get beer]]] } B.) [[Hmmm, what shall we try now?|7 Layer Dip]] C.) [[Ask her what she's in the mood for.|7 Layer Dip]]

Jenny looks over the assortment. “Oooh, that Seven Layer Dip looks evil.” You dollop a large spoonful on a paper plate alongside a handful of tortilla chips. After loading a chip to the breaking point you hold it out to her. Jenny tries to grab the chip, but its copious coating leaves no fingerhold. Instead, she guides your hand towards her waiting mouth. Closing her eyes, she wraps her plump lips around the mounded munchy. A dab of sour cream grabs her upper lip like a tall truck clipping an overpass. "Whoops!" you say. Jenny shields her mouth with her hand as she works through the giant bite. After a moment, she swallows hard and looks to you expectantly. "Yummy! What’s next?" You're beginning to see how Jenny packed on her pounds. If she keeps going like this she'll need a special graduation gown. Now what? { (if: $hasKey)[A.) [[Suggest a beer run|Ending #11]].] (else:)[A.) [[Suggest a beer run|get beer]].] } B.) [[More food!|lots of eating]] C.) [[Ask her what she’s in the mood for|grab the brownies]].

Over the next twenty minutes you and Jenny sample nearly everything on the table—cheese log, lemon squares, guacamole, peanut butter cookies---only the celery and carrots, which both of you wrinkle your nose at, go untouched. In between bites, you talk like old pals even though you haven’t said more than a casual “hey” to one another in nearly five years. You reminisce about grade school and chat about former mutual friends. And you’re pleasantly surprised to find Jenny knows more about you than you ever would have expected. You may only be a blip on her radar, but at least you’re on the screen. The conversation is so effortless you almost don’t notice how conspicuous you’ve become. Not because you and Jenny are making pigs of yourselves at the snack table—though certainly people have noticed—but because of the attention you’re giving one another. Out of the corner of your eye you spy a threesome of Jenny’s gal pals stealing glances from across the room between whispered gossip. Elsewhere, Jenny’s longtime beau (and captain of the football team),Tad Fifer, stink-eyes you from the base of the stairs. You suspect it’s only a matter of time before some fringe element negatively impacts your boner and your chances with Jenny. What do you say? { (if: $hasKey)[A.) [[Let's go find a beer to wash this down.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[A.) [[Let's go find a beer to wash this down.|get beer]]] } B.) [[Do you want to go get some real food?]] C.) [[Do you want to go someplace quieter?|grab the brownies]]

Jenny looks at you incredulously. “What? Did Tad tell you to say that?” Tad Fifer was the quarterback of the football team and had had an on again, off again relationship with Jenny. Though, if you listened to Tad tell it, he spent far more time on Jenny than off her. “N-No, I barely know Tad,” you stammer. “I was just merely saying…” “Do you think I’m stupid?” Jenny places her hands on her hips to serve the dual purpose effect of indignation and muffin-top obscuration. She also noticeably sucks in her stomach. “Or are you the stupid one?” Her voice is raised to the point that some partygoers have turned in your direction. Your chances with Jenny are on life support. What do you say?: A.) [[So what if you’ve put on a few pounds?|Ending #4]] B.) [[I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about|no idea]]. C.) [[I was just trying to be nice|Ending #5]].

She stares at you for a moment. You tried to sound as earnest as possible, but you’re not sure she bought it. Your erection hangs in the balance. After what seems like an eternity, she smiles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’ve just really been on edge lately.” “It’s no problem,” you say, sighing with relief. “I was just hoping you’d talk to me, but I’ll gladly take yelling.” Jenny looks confused. "Why wouldn’t I talk to you? "Well, I’m not apart of the crowd you usually have around you." "That's a good thing, actually," she says. "My crowd has let me down recently." "How do you mean?" Jenny chooses her words carefully. "Let's just say that I don't like how they make me feel." You nod. "My Grandma used to say if you lay down with dogs you're bound to get some fleas." "Your Grandmother is a wise woman." How do you respond? A.) "[[I'm a pretty good listener. Wanna talk about it?]]" B.) [[Bring up an old school story (change the subject)|Mrs. Greenbaum]].

A few people listening in snicker. Jenny is mortified. Her cheeks flush as she folds her arms across her body and heads for the exit. You fumble for something to say, but “don’t forget your brownies” is the best you come up with. Needless to say, she doesn’t stop. Some shake their head at your pitiful come-on attempt, but most barely noticed. Even fewer notice you slinking out the door and heading for home (and a cold shower) a few minutes later. THE END

“Thanks, but I don’t need false flattery.” She grabs her platter of brownies and brushes past you. “Especially from a geek like you!” The room goes quiet as Jenny clomps towards the exit. You stand in stunned silence for a moment before shouting after her: “Did you say flattery or FATTERY?” Laughter and cat-calls erupt from the crowd. Jenny faces you in the front doorway, tears welling in her eyes. Unable to come up with a response, she slams the door behind her. The din of the crowd swells as the door slam fades. A few guys come up and slap you on the back. Tad Fifer even brings you a fresh beer. It’s an extremely hollow victory. THE END

You sip your drink and watch what happens. Without the lifeline of socialization, Jenny picks at the snacks. First, she daintily grabs a few nuts from an assortment overflowing a green bowl, but soon she’s eating them by the handful. Next she samples cookies from a platter. One. Two. Three. All the while her eyes dart around the room. You’re not sure if she’s looking for friends or worried friends are looking, but you stay cool and blend with the crowd. After her forth cookie, she moves on to the chips and dips. Right as she puts a tortilla mounded with bean dip in her mouth, Chad Sampson, a husky linebacker from the football team, steps in front of her to say hello. Shit. Not only is he blocking your view of Jenny, but he’s interrupting her feeding frenzy and, the way he’s inching closer, is getting a little too friendly for your tastes. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t think of breaking up a conversation between two A-listers like Jenny and Chad, but the urging of your loins is powerful. You sidle up next to them and clear your throat. What do you say? A.) "[[Chad, Tad Fifer told me to tell you to get away from his girl|Get away Chad]]." B.) "[[Jenny, you wanted me to go over those science notes with you|Ending #6]]." C.) "[[Chad, they need someone with some muscle to help with the beer tap|Sorry Toots]]."

Jenny stares at you like you have rutabagas shoved up your nostrils. You were betting on her wanting out of the conversation with Chad, but by her reaction it’s clear you bet wrong. “Beat it, stick,” says Chad, a reference to your wiry physique. “No problem,” you say, backing away. “I’ll be over here if you need me.” It’s clear they don’t need you. After a few minutes, Chad escorts Jenny outside, his arm draped over her shoulders. You hang around the party a bit longer, making small talk with a few people, before heading home for a cold shower and a warm hand. THE END

"Was Mrs. Greenbaum’s hair green or blue?" Jenny laughs at the memory of your 5th grade teacher. “Blue” "Are you sure?" "Absolutely. She was a little blue-haired old lady." "Huh? Must be her name that threw my memory. I pulled out an old yearbook a few months ago and her photo was in black and white." "That’s fitting. She was probably, what? 80?" "She wasn’t that old! When you’re 10, everybody seems ancient. I’d wager she was closer to 60." Jenny looks smug. "You’re on." You spend the next few minutes on Jenny’s phone, scouring the Internet for information on Mrs. Greenbaum. It seems she retired from teaching a few years ago, but you find a bio that lists her Birthday as 1951. You’re still doing the math in her head, when Jenny blurts out. “That would make her 67 now, so she would’ve been right around 60 then. You were right!” "So, what do I win?" Jenny arches her brow and folds her arms across her chest, causing a ripe surge of cleavage to erupt from her top. "What is it that you want?" { (if: $hasKey) [A.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Ending #11]]] (else:) [A.) [[Drink a beer with me.|get beer]]] } B.) [[A kiss.|upstairs I]] C.) [[A date.|A date I]]

Jenny looks around, then grabs your hand and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past Tad Fifer (the captain of the football team), a gaggle of gawking girls, and a pack of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. She closes her eyes and puckers her plump lips seductively. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. What do you do? A.) [[Kiss her.|the kiss]] B.) [[Kiss her!|the kiss]] C.) [[Don’t be an idiot, KISS HER!|the kiss]]

Your thin dry lips meet her moist plump ones. You press firmly against them, but keep your mouth closed and your hands to yourself like a true gentleman. Neither of you pulls away and the kiss continues. Jenny parts her lips a little bit. No tongue, but some exploration. You reciprocate. You taste a subtle mix of strawberry lip gloss and chocolate brownie. It’s a nice combo. What’s next, Romeo? A.) [[Introduce Jenny to Mr. Tongue|Ending #19]]. B.) [[Keep kissing casually, but add a hand to her thigh|hand to thigh]]. C.) [[Let it end naturally|kiss ends]].

It takes effort to override your libido, but you eventually pull away after playfully sucking her bottom lip. You both open your eyes. Jenny’s baby blues are filled with surprise. "You’re a good kisser." "Thanks. I’ve been practicing in the mirror." Jenny smiles. "Does that satisfy our bet?" You shake your head. "Nope. Double or nothin’?" "I’m game." Jenny places her hand on your knee. “What shall we bet on?” That was NOT the answer you were expecting. How do you respond? A.) [[Rock, paper, scissors]]. B.) [[Coin flip]]. C.) [[Let her decide|Trivia]].

It takes a second for Jenny to realize what you’re doing—and she doesn’t like it. “What the fuck?!” Jenny bolts up from the bed and you fall on your side. “I can’t believe you did that. You’re just like every other asshole.” "I’m sorry," you say. "I thought we were sharing a moment." “You thought wrong.” Jenny opens the door, shoots you a wicked glare, and then slams it behind her. You lay in the bed a minute, wondering where you went wrong, before rejoining the party. Unsurprisingly, Jenny has left. More surprisingly, several dudes come up and slap you on the back. Even a few girls eye you appreciatively. Unfortunately, the boost to your cool quotient proves as temporary as your chances with Jenny. THE END

You walk hand-in-hand down the street towards Jenny's red Audi. It's parked pretty far down the street, but still way too close for your liking. When you reach it, Jenny opens the driver's door and then turns back to you. Her eyes are red and puffy, and her tears have unsettled what little makeup remains...but she still looks gorgeous. Maybe even moreso. "I want to thank you for helping me get through tonight. I don’t think I would’ve made it without you." Jenny wraps her meaty arms around you and pulls you tight against her. It feels like you’re melting against the warm softness of her breasts and belly. Your arms are pinned beneath hers so you’re limited to a brief, but enjoyable, exploration of her spongy back. Long before you’re ready, Jenny breaks her embrace. “And I’m certain I would’ve eaten everything on that snack table if I didn’t have you to talk to.” You force a smile. “Happy to help.” Jenny gets in her car. Turns the ignition. Waves. And then disappears into the night. Not much changes for you the rest of the school year, but Jenny’s fortunes take a serious uptick. She loses weight, regains her position as Head Cheerleader, and is nominated for Prom Queen. In fairness, she is super sweet whenever you see her at lunch or in the halls, always making a point to talk to you even if it means ignoring her ever-growing herd of devotees. You consider asking Jenny out several times, but just don’t feel the same enthusiasm. You’re not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s your subconscious reminding you that she’s once again out of your league. Maybe it’s because you can’t reconcile her new sinewy supermodel form with the vision of ripe femininity from months before. Maybe it’s just the natural realization that your window of opportunity has closed. You’re happy for her, but can’t help thinking of what might have been. THE END

"He did?" Chad whips his head around the room looking for Tad. Tad Fifer was the quarterback of the football team and had had an on again, off again relationship with Jenny. Though, if you listened to Tad tell it, he spent far more time on Jenny than off her. "Sorry, Jenny," Chad says. "I didn't know." And with that, he makes tracks. "Chad--" Jenny protests, but the linebacker has already raced off to tackle another beer. She turns to you with a look of disdain. "What are you, Tad's messenger boy? Where is the asshole? I have a message for him." "Um...I would be happy to deliver it." "Tell him to 'Fuck off and leave me alone!'" With that, she clomps off towards the backyard. You stand frozen for a moment, wondering if you should leave well enough alone. The last thing you want to do is draw the ire of Tad Fifer. But Jenny's siren's song is strong. You eventually head outside and spy her standing with her arms folded at the back of the beer line. You join her. "Did you deliver my message?" "No, Tad ran a quick errand. He'll be back in a...tad." "Never mind then, I'll give it to him in person when he gets back." You squirm a little. "I don't mind telling him. I haven't been punched in the face lately." Jenny cracks the slightest of smiles. "You're sweet, but I think it needs to come from me." You reach the front of the line and Cliff Martin--a doughy-faced Junior who had been designated tapmaster--hands Jenny a red solo cup filled with a head-heavy brew, probably Budweiser or some other cheap domestic brand. Jenny chugs it without getting out of line. Foam dots her upper-lip as she hands the empty cup back to Cliff. "More!" Everyone in line is too stunned to protest. Cliff dutifully refills the cup and hands it back to Jenny...who quaffs it in seconds. "More!" People behind you start to murmur. Cliff stands wide-eyed holding the cup, unsure of what to do. "What are you stupid?" Jenny says. "You have one job!" What do you do? A.) [[Escort Jenny away]]. B.) [[Remind Jenny about her underage drinking stance|underage drinking]]. C.) [[Let things play out|Let her drink]].

Jenny looks at you angrily. "What are you, my Mother?" As soon as she says it; however, her eyes cast downward and she begins to sob. You put your arm around her and lead her away from Cliff and the other dumbstruck school kids in the beer line. An unsettled bench sits along the back fence. You lead her to it and sit down next to her. "I'm a fraud," Jenny cries. "I don't know what I'm going to do." You fish an unused Kleenex from your pocket and hand it to her. "Thanks." She blows into the tissue with a horn-sounding force you'd only ever heard before on TV sitcoms. "You're a good friend." You haven't been a friend at all, really, but are happy that she said it. For all her High School devotees and admirers, maybe she doesn't have many true friends? Then it dawns on you--the anger, the binge drinking, the rapid weight-gain--maybe she's going through a tough time and has nobody to turn to? A.) [[Tell her you're there for her]]. B.) [[Ask if Tad did something to her|Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?]]. C.) [[Suggest you forget Tad and get something to eat|30 pounds II]].

Despite protests from the people in line, Cliff once again fills Jenny's cup. "That's better," Jenny says, wandering away as beer sloshes from her cup. Though she tries to stand tall, she's already a little unsteady. You quickly grab your beer head after her. "Where's Tad?" Jenny yells to no one in particular as she winds through the teenaged throng. Quickly, you grab hold of her arm. "He's over here," you say, as you lead her back outside. You spy an unused bench, away from the crowd, and lead her to it. Jenny readily sits. "That's better," she says, then takes a long sip from her beer. "Now bring him to me!" "He'll be right over," you say. "Good, she says. "That'll give me time to finish this." She hoists the Solo cup back to her lips. A.) [[I think you've had enough (take the cup away from her).|Take cup]] B.) [[Remind Jenny about her underage drinking stance.|underage drinking II]] C.) [[Let her enjoy.|keep drinking]]

"Good thinking!" She says. "I need to save some to throw in that puke's face." Jenny leans forward and grasps your knee--though you suspect it may be as much for stability as amorous. "Now what shall we do while we wait?" A.) [[Kiss her|the kiss II]]. B.) [[Suggest that she eat something|30 pounds II]]. C.) [[Bring up an old school story|Tad in 5th Grade]].

Jenny polishes off her beer...at least what doesn't dribble down her chin and onto her blouse. She turns her cup upside down and a single drop drips onto your shoes. "Time for round two!" she bellows. She attempts to get to her feet, but falls back onto the bench. "Whoopsie!" She turns to you, glassy-eyed. "Would you be a dear and get me another beer?" A.) [[Offer her yours instead.|give beer]] B.) [[Do what she says.|Ending #9]] C.) [["Maybe you should eat something instead?"|grab the brownies II]]

You are such a sweetie! Jenny takes a giant swig from your cup. And a cutie, too! She grasps your knee--though you suspect it may be as much for stability as amorous. How come you never told me how cute you were? "It must have slipped my mind" "Kiss me." Jenny puckers her lips and closes her eyes. This is a dream come true...except for the fact that Jenny is drunk and sporting a foam beard. Still, it may be the only chance you'll have to kiss one of God's most perfect creations. A.) [[Kiss her.|Ending #10]] B.) [[Suggest you go somewhere more discreet.|upstairs #4]] C.) [[Suggest you eat something first.|Ending #35]]

"My pleasure." Jenny smiles and slumps back in her seat, closing her eyes. You head back to the line, which has gotten longer since you left. You're about halfway to the front when you hear a commotion. Jenny is screaming profanities at someone. It's Tad Fifer! Knowing nothing good can come from your sticking around, you abandon both the line and the party and head hastily for home. Monday morning you're back to being persona non grata. That is until Tad, Chad, and a couple other guys from the football team pay you a little visit by your locker. THE END

You make-out on the bench. It's passionate. Jenny friskily rubs your inner thigh, working her way up to the bulge in your denim. She cradles it in her hand and begins a clockwise massage. While she's manipulating your manhood, you have free reign to explore the roll of fat around her waist which, thanks to the way she's seated (and the night's indulgences), has become a double. You run a finger through the fold and find it warm and damp with perspiration. Pulling her close, you continue to kiss as your free hand moves beneath her blouse and up her soft side towards second base. As you reach the frilly fabric of her Frederik's bra, you discover another small fat roll pinched beneath it. You doubt it was there a few weeks ago. You let your fingers do the walking from side to front...But fail to notice the attention you're getting. The bench is away from the action, but not invisible, and Jenny's low moans of passion have attracted prying eyes. Just as you're squeezing the fresh flesh rounding out from Jenny's over-matched bra, a hand grasps your shoulder. Since Jenny's hands are on your neck and crotch, respectively, you know this can't be good. It isn't. You open your eyes and cast them upwards to find a red-faced Tad Fifer. He pulls you to your feet in a single yank and, before you can protest or defend yourself, dislodges two of your teeth with a punch that sends you sprawling backwards into the Beuerlein family's pool. Fortunately, it breaks your fall. Unfortunately, it's November and unheated. THE END

Chad’s chest swells visibly. “Sorry, toots. Duty calls.” Then he saunters towards the backyard with an exaggerated cock of the walk strut. “Did he just call you, ‘toots,’” you say. "I think he did." Jenny doesn't look your direction. Whatever you do, you better do it quick. A.) "[[You look nice tonight.]]” B.) [[(Point at the food) "What do you recommend?"|What do you recommend?]] C.) “[[Can I get you a beer?]]”

Jenny’s face goes slack. “I thought you said you didn’t drink.” “Well,” your mind races for a way to fix this. “Only on special occasions…and this certainly qualifies!” “Y’know, I don’t think I’m in the mood anymore.” Jenny doesn’t sound angry, just disappointed. It’s clear she was hoping things would turn out differently. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” Jenny musters a half-hearted smile before turning away. You stand frozen, mouth agape, as she exits the room, still scrambling to come up with a line to salvage the situation. Unfortunately, your mind stays as blank as your sexual scorecard. For the rest of your life, you think back on that night and what could have been. However, it teaches you a valuable lesson that serves you well: Honesty is, indeed, the best policy. THE END

"Oh, I don't think so," Jenny says. You can tell she's wavering, but could use a little peer pressure. "All the cool kids are doing it!" You say wryly. Jenny smiles. "I really shouldn't." "I won't tell anyone. I promise." "Well..." You raise your eyebrows and try to look innocent. You have real doubt as to what she'll say, and are already scrambling to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the response you were hoping for comes from her luscious lips: "Sure." You race from the room and head outside where Cliff Martin--a doughy-faced Junior who had been designated tapmaster--presides over a silver keg and a long line of teenagers waiting to pay hommage. From the restless looks in line to the way Cliff is struggling to produce foam cups filled with anything but foam, you're certain you've got a long wait in front of you. And the thought of giving Jenny alone time to think about what she's doing makes you cringe. What do you do? A.) [[Offer to help Cliff|help cliff]]. B.) [[Try to find someone you know in line to cut with|cut]]. C.) [[Try to scrounge an alternative fuel source|alternative]].

"I think we're good!" You put your arm around Jenny and lead her away from Cliff before she can protest. An unsettled bench sits along the back fence. You lead her to it and sit down next to her. "What the hell did you do that for?" Jenny's voice is somewhere between curious and pissed. How do you respond?: A.) "[[Tell me what's wrong|Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?]]." B.) [[Remind Jenny of her underage drinking stance|underage drinking II]].

You scour the line and find two friends in the home stretch. Well, friends is too strong. They're acquaintences. Kind of. One is Judy Murphy, a skinny and bookish girl from your English class. You've had some pre-class bantor and partnered on a couple in-class projects. However, you don't want Jenny to see you cozying up to another girl if she comes outside or looks out the window. The next is Cody Branson. You guys were pretty good chums in middle school, but then he got knee-deep and thick-necked in athletics. Now you don't say much beyond the occassional "hey" in the halls. Neither are great options. Maybe you should just bite the bullet and wait your turn in line? You'd rather avoid embarrassment or an ass-kicking (or an embarrassing ass-kicking). A.) [[Mingle with Murphy]]. B.) [[Be cordial with Cody]]. C.) [[Wait in line|Ending #15]].

You abandon the line and head for the kitchen. A few kids are gathered around the granite-covered island, but none you know and none that look like they'd give you any trouble. You walk with purpose to the fridge and open it up. It's filled with traditional fridge fare--milk, eggs, assorted leftovers--but no beer. Bastards! You're not wild about any of your options, frankly, but whatever you do you know it has to be quick. A.) [[Go back to the beer line]]. B.) [[Keep looking]]. C.) [[Head back to Jenny empty-handed]].

Cliff curses the Keg as he struggles with air in the pump line. He has sweat on his brow and a half-dozen foam-filled cups are at his feet. The people in line are growing impatient. What do you do? A.) [[Offer to help him with the pump|beer pump]]. B.) [[Offer to trash the foamy failures at his feet|foamy beers]].

The line sepentines like a Disney attraction down the patio steps, around the Beuerlein family's flower garden, and out a gate into the front yard. The end is a lonely place filled with shivering kids and sour expressions. The only semi-happy people are the ones who got their beer and then immediately got back in line for seconds. After five minutes, you've barely made it back through the gate and you still can't see Cliff or the tap yet. You're certain it will take at least another 15 minutes and can't imagine anything good happening in that time. You stop a geeky underclassman wearing a Memeber's Only jacket and holding a fresh beer as he heads to the back of the line. "How much?" He blinks a couple times. "How much for what?" "Your jacket." The kids around you chuckle. "Your beer. How much for your beer?" The hamster wheel in his head turns and he exclaims, "$20!" You shake your head. "I'll give you ten." "Fine." He takes a big swig and then hands it to you, wiping the foam mustache from his lip with his sleeve. It's probably the closest the little punk will ever come to facial hair. You ask other kids about their beers. Most say no, but a few are willing sell at your established selling price. You have $30 left in your wallet after Member's Only sold you his and are tempted to shoot your wad...but some of it was earmarked for your Uber ride home. Plus, there could be other necessary expenses before the night is through. Of course, Jenny after three beers sounds more fun than Jenny after one. What do you do? A.) [[Shoot your wad|buy three more beers]]! B.) [[Buy one more for Jenny and save the rest|buy one more beer]]. C.) [[Buy one more and then wait in line for another|Ending #15]].

Jenny actually seems relieved when you return sans beer. You hoped a couple drinks would loosen her up, but ironically she seems to open up more without them. The conversation easily transitions from one topic to another. You discover she wanted to be a ballet dancer. She even studied for a month at a fancy French academy after 8th grade. Of course, the thought of Jenny rocking a Tutu today is pretty comical, but she's a good sport about it. When you chuckle a little at the visual, Jenny smiles and says, "I know, right?" She also plays classical piano, but prefers classic rock--big Queen fan--and even enjoys fishing! (Imagining Jenny in a bass boat is almost as humorous as imagining her in a leotard...though not nearly as arousing.) You find it particularly refreshing that she asks alot of questions about you. You're pretty boring by comparison, but Jenny doesn't seem to think so. In fact, you're surprised how much she already knows about you. You may not have been more than a blip on her radar, but at least you were on the screen. Long before you're ready, the clock ticks towards curfew and the din downstairs fades. "I better go," Jenny says after checking the time on her phone. About 20 texts flood her screen, but she closes out without reading them. You frown. "Check-out isn't until one." "Oh!" Jenny's weary eyes widen. "Just enough time to raid the mini-bar." "I'm game if you are." You look around. "It's gotta be around here somewhere." "Thanks for making tonight fun." Jenny stands. "Walk me to my car?" The last thing you want to do is leave the bed...but you do. "Of course." Before you go, Jenny checks to make sure the remaining guests are OK. A couple are sleeping it off on the couch and a few other drunks have rides coming. You say your good-byes to the cognizant ones and step-out into the cold. [[Walk Jenny to her car|Ending #21]]

The kids around the island eye you suspiciously as you open cabinet after cabinet. "Have you seen any toothpicks?" You shout to the crew. They grunt and shake their heads before turning their attention back to each other. Cups. Dishes. Platters. You even find beer mugs and wine glasses, but absolutely nothing to fill them with. Finally, you open the pantry door. Eureka! On one of the shelves is a bottle of red wine while on another is a small 200ml bottle of tequilla. Frankly, you're not wild about either option, or the whole stealing thing, but you're desperate. You suspect Jenny is more of a sophisticated red wine gal, but the tequilla bottle would be easier to smuggle and do the trick quicker. Of course, she was expecting a beer. What do you do? A.) (if: $hasKey)[ [[Grab the wine|Ending #12]]] (else:)[ [[Grab the wine|Ending #23]]]. B.) [[Grab the tequilla]]. C.) [[Go back to the beer line|Ending #15]]. D.) [[Head back to Jenny empty-handed]].

You carry the bottle like a football from the kitchen, not making eye-contact with the kitchen crowd. They don't stop their conversation as you flee, so you take that as a good sign. You avoid the crowded living room by taking the long way to the stairs via a dimly lit hallway running past the empty formal dining room and vacant foyer. As you reach the landing, you feel nothing can stop you. Shit! Except not having a corkscrew. The last thing you want to do is return to the kitchen, but you suspect the chances of finding a corkscrew in the upstairs guest bedroom to be minimal. Just as you're pushing through the kitchen's swinging saloon-style doors, Brock Beuerlein, the party's rich kid host, pushes through from the other side. "Heya, Brock." You try to brush past him quickly, but he grabs your arm. His eyes immediately go to the contraband pressed tight against your side. "Whatcha got there, buddy?" "This?" You pull the bottle from the crook of your arm. "I brought this for the party. What's a party without a little vino, am I right?" Brock takes it from you. His eyes go wide as he examines at the label. "This is a Lafite-Rothschild Bordeaux." "Yeah, the attendant at the 7-11 near my house doesn't check I.D.s. Let's pop that baby open!" "This is a $500 bottle." "What can I say?" You swallow hard. "You're worth it." "My parents were saving this to celebrate my Father's promotion." Your face burns red. "Well, now you have two. Huzzah!" Despite your denial, the jig is definitely up. Brock and his cronies debate for a few minutes about what to do with you. You're actually pretty lucky--the overt underage drinking at the party keeps them from calling the cops. It does not stop them from kicking your ass, however. THE END

You tuck the bottle under your arm and close the pantry door. You don't make eye-contact with the kitchen crowd as you flee, but they neither stop their conversation or try to stop you. So far so good! (if: $hasKey)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny Drunk Upstairs Tequila]]] (else:)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny drunk tequila]]]

"Hey, Judy! What are you doing here?" "Hey yourself! I could ask you the same thing. I didn't think you were much of a party guy." "I'm not really. Just came as a favor to my boy, Brock." You hardly know Brock, the party's rich kid host, but he did technically invite you. As you make small talk, you slowly intigrate yourself into the line. Nobody complains. You compliment her hair, which does look nice done up in a series of Princess-style braids, and she gives a blow-by-blow account of her answers on the last English quiz. Before you know it, you're at the front of the line. "Here you go." Cliff hands you two cups filled to the brim. It's clear he thinks you and Judy are together. Judy smiles and looks at you expectantly. She may think you're together now, too. What do you do: A.) [[Beeline back to Jenny|beeline to Jenny]]. B.) [[Hand Judy a beer and ask for one more "for a friend"]]. C.) [[Hand Judy a beer and visit with her a bit more|Ending #13]].

"Hey, Cody!" You sidle smoothly to his side. "Congratulations on that last wrestling meet." "I lost." "Oh, I meant the one before that. You did pretty well in that one, right?" "Nice try. Get to the back of the line like everyone else." He gestures over his shoulder. All you see is an endless line of angry faces. You don't have much choice... [[Go to the back of the line|Go back to the beer line]].

You wait as patiently as possible as the line takes you on a winding tour of the Beuerlein family estate. You have to admit, it's pretty nice. Just as you reach Cliff and his keg, the tap expels its final gassy gasp. "That's it! We're out!" A moan erumpts from the crowd, but yours is the loudest. Of course, it's nothing compared to the moan you emit when you return inside to find Jenny dancing and drinking with another dude.

You take the beers in your arms and make your way through the crowd as carefully as you can to avoid sloshing. Just as you pass Cliff, you hear the death throes of the tap as it expels its final gassy gasps. "That's it! We're out!" A moan erumpts from the crowd and you clutch your prescious cargo closer. You imagine you could double your money if you decided to sell your stock of amber gold, but that thought quickly vanishes. You have bigger fish to fry. And a particularly sizable one is waiting for you inside! (if: $hasKey)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny Drunk Upstairs]]] (else:)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny drunk]]]

After you buy another beer, you stuff your remaining cash in your pocket and make your way through the crowd as carefully as you can to avoid sloshing. Just as you pass Cliff, you hear the death throes of the tap as it expels its final gassy gasps. "That's it! We're out!" A moan erumpts from the crowd. You immediately regret not buying more, as you almost certainly could have doubled your money selling them back. Oh well, you have bigger fish to fry. And a particularly sizable one is waiting for you inside! (if: $hasKey)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny Drinks Upstairs]]] (else:)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny drinks]]]

You wait as patiently as you can as the line winds you on a tour through the Beuerlein's backyard landscape. (You have to admit, it's pretty nice.) Twenty minutes later your patience is about to be rewarded, but just as you reach Cliff his Holy Grail of grog expels a final gassy gasp. "That's it! We're out!" Of all the moans in the crowd, yours is the loudest. Of course, it's nothing compared to the moan you emit when you return inside--to find Jenny drinking and dancing with another dude. THE END

You clutch both beers in your hands. "Well...bye!" Judy's face falls as you rush away with the precious cargo. Cliff yells "hey!" after you, but you're already amidst the throngs of partygoers. You feel badly about Judy, but only fleetingly. You have bigger fish to fry. And a particularly sizable one is waiting for you inside! (if: $hasKey)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny Drinks Upstairs]]] (else:)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny drinks]]]

You hand Judy a beer and chat a bit more--looking for a delicate way to excuse yourself from the conversation. That's when something strange happens. Judy makes you laugh. She's funny! It's about that time you notice how nice her smile is. Straight, but not too straight. White, but not too white. Before you know it, you have your arm around her to keep her svelte form warm. "What the fuck is going on?!?" Jenny appears behind you, her angry breath steaming in the cold like a dragon's. The crowd goes hush. Instinctively, you pull your arm away from Judy. "Oh, hi Jenny...Sorry, I was getting your beer when I ran into an old friend." "Well, fuck you!" Jenny looks Judy up and down derisively. "And your little friend." With that, she clomps loudly across the wooden deck back into the house. You're not sure if it's an ostentatious display of petulance or merely an after-effect of her increased girth. You turn to Judy, expecting to get it from both sides, but she stands silent, a mix of awe and bewilderment on her face. "Sorry about that," you say. "She doesn't like seeing me with other women, apparently." The eruption you expect never comes. Instead, Judy smiles and grasps your hand. "Let's get another beer." You lose your virginity to Judy Murphy later that night...and you don't think of Jenny once! THE END

You race up the stairs behind Tad and are right on his heels as he explodes through the bedroom door. "You told this asshole that I raped you?!" Jenny stands stoically, but her fearful baby blues belie her bravery. "What would you call it, Tad?" Tad storms closer. "I didn't do shit to you." "That's not what you told your friends." Tad backs off some. He considers his next words carefully. "I didn't do anything you didn't want to do." "That's not true. You knew what I wanted. You just came up with a way to change my mind." "I didn't do shit to you!" Tad's anger returns and so does his reduntant denial. He closes inches from Jenny. She doesn't back down, but it's clear she could use reinforcements. What do you do? A.) [[Call the cops]]. B.) [[Cold-cock Tad]]. C.) [[Step in between them]].

"That's it, I'm calling the cops!" You announce your intentions and walk into the hall, hoping it will distract Tad from harrassing Jenny. It doesn't. They scream at one another as you fish your phone from your pocket. Not having experience with these things, you call 9-1-1. Between the rape accusation and the chaotic cachophany in the background the dispatcher takes your call VERY seriously. As do the policemen in the three squad cars that arrive five minutes later. The party is shut-down, parents are called, and multiple citations are given. Tad is even arrested, cuffs and all. Since the arriving officers ask for you by name, it's little wonder who made the call...and the collateral damage it causes doesn't exactly endear you with the in-crowd. Come Monday, the threat of an ass-kicking lurks in every class and coridor. However, as days pass, and evidence against Tad mounts (a football chum chimes-in with incriminating tales from Tad's own tongue, while one of his old girlfriend reports a romantic rendezvous under suspiciously similar circumstances) the opinion of you in many circles goes from snitch to savior. [[But what of you and Jenny|Ending #14]]?

You ball a fist and punch Tad in the side of the head. It's not the knockout haymaker the movie in your mind was playing, but it's still a good whack that sends Tad stumbling to the side holding his ear. Jenny quickly scrambles from the room and you position yourself in the doorway to prevent chase. Unfortunately for you, Tad has turned his attention from pursuing Jenny to kicking your ass. You fight gamely, using your smaller stature and the door frame to avoid most of his blows. This works for about five seconds. Then he floors you with a knee to the groin--the same dirty move you were about to try--and follows it up with an uppercut to the jaw. If there's another blow, you're not awake for it. [[Are you dead?|hospital]]

You wedge your arm between two of the most impressive chests you've ever seen. Tad's is as angular and firm as Jenny's is round and yielding. "Back off, Tad," you say. "Think about what you're doing." His eyes stay locked on hers, but to your surprise he takes a half-step back. "I loved you, Jenny." "I loved you too, Tad." Jenny doesn't blink. "Past tense." Tad's lips tighten and his gaze falls to the floor. He nods his head, then turns and exits with shoulders slumped. After he leaves, Jenny's knees buckle and she collapses back on the bed. She doesn't cry; she just sits in stunned silence. You sit beside her and she leans against you, resting her head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around her and give her a gentle squeeze. What do you do now? A.) [[Kiss her|Ending #7]]. B.) [[Just sit with her awhile]]. C.) [[Report Tad to the police]].

Your relationship with Jenny remains complicated. As first she avoids you, turning away or dipping into a restroom anytime you get within eyesight. Then, after a couple weeks, she shows up at your locker. "Hi." "Oh...Hi!" You're so surprised to see her you almost drop your books. She's dressed demurely in gray sweats and a baggy purple sweater, wears no make-up, and her hair is pinned into a single pigtail. Somehow she's still gorgeous. You shut your locker door. "How are you holding up?" "I'm doing OK." It's a pat answer, but sounds like one Jenny just settled on recently. "I'm glad." "Yeah, me too." Jenny smiles. "Well, see you around." And that's how it goes. A few other times Jenny goes out of her way to get in yours, but the conversations are equally banal. Neither of you are able to say the things you want to say. After a while, life settles on a new normal. Jenny remains pretty and popular, but keeps on the fringes of the social circle, focusing on academics and student counsel over cheerleading and athletics. She doesn't gain anymore weight, but she doesn't lose it either. As winter warms to spring, her baggy sweats and sweaters are replaced with a stylish new wardrobe more attuned to a plus-sized professional than the sexy siren of September. She may never appreciate her extra pounds like you do, but are happy that she's no longer using them as a layer of insulation against sexual advance or scrutiny. You stay an outsider...but one with a whiff of celebrity and an aura of mystery, especially among the fairer sex. Girls from Jenny's social circle acknowledge your existence and encourage your involvement with extra caricular school activities, fund-raisers, parties, and, in a couple of instances, themselves. You hardly speak to Jenny, but take comfort in the notion that she has spoken well of you to her friends (though you suspect one or two of them may have cozied up to you just to make her jealous). After graduation, you wish each other a great summer and head your separate ways. Probably for the last time. Jenny was accepted into a big-time college. You're still weighing your options, but attending a big-time college isn't one of them. However, a few weeks later a flowery card emblemized with the words "Thank You" arrives in the mail. It's from Jenny. You open it and read her equally flowery script: //I've been trying to say these two simple words to you for months. I'm not sure why it's been so hard. I'll admit I didn't feel very thankful at first, even though I knew what you did was right. Now I do...and I still can't say it in person! Who knows why? Maybe I'm afraid of the flood gates it might open. That's no excuse though and, as your Grandma might say, it's time to 'shit or get off the pot!' (Ha, ha!)// //Anyway, THANK YOU! You helped me move past the experience and grow as a person. (I know what you're thinking, smart ass!). Please give me a call sometime, as I really do believe you're entitled to a thank you in-person as well. (Maybe I could bake another batch of brownies?)// Beneath Jenny's inscription is her signature, her phone number, and a couple of hand-drawn hearts. You fish your phone from your pocket and dial the number. Jenny answers on the first ring. THE END

"Hey, Cliff! Looks like you could use a hand." Cliff shoots you a quick glance then goes back to his tap-dance. "Beat it. I'm fine." "You've got air in the line. Let me help you." "I said beat it! Brock put me in charge and didn't want anybody else messing with the keg." You've met four-star generals with less dedication. "Cliff, just let me--" "Last warning!" After getting his ass kicked by the keg, Cliff looks ready to kick yours. You don't see any other choice but to: [[Go back to the beer line]].

Hey Cliff! You point to the mine field of cups at his feet. "Can I get rid of all this crap for you?" He gives you a glance then returns to his tap-dance with the keg. "Yeah, thanks." "Is there a beer in it for me?" "Sure, get in line." He smiles like he said something clever. "Great...thanks." Still, you keep your promise and gather up the unused cups...but instead of dumping them in the trash, you find a quiet part of the backyard to take them. They're 80% undrinkable foam, but after some mad scientist jigger-juggling you're able to manufacture two perfect beers! Proud of yourself, you head back inside. (if: $hasKey)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny Drinks Upstairs]]] (else:)[ [[Find Jenny!|Jenny drinks]]]

Jenny looks at you angrily. "What are you, my Mother?" As soon as she says it; however, her eyes cast downward and she begins to sob. "I'm a fraud," Jenny cries. "I don't know what I'm going to do." You fish an unused Kleenex from your pocket and hand it to her. "Thanks." She blows into the tissue with a horn-sounding force you'd only ever heard before on TV sitcoms. "You're a good friend." You haven't been a friend at all, really, but are happy that she said it. For all her High School devotees and admirers, maybe she doesn't have many true friends? Then it dawns on you--the anger, the binge drinking, the rapid weight-gain--maybe she's going through a tough time and has nobody to turn to? A.) [[Tell her you're there for her]]. B.) [[Ask if Tad did something to her|Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?]]. C.) [[Suggest you forget Tad and get something to eat|30 pounds II]].

"Are you dense?" Jenny says incredulously. "Like it's not obvious. I heard the gossip at school before I even realized it myself." What do you say? A.) "[[I think you look great|no idea]]." B.) "[[So what if you've put on a few pounds?|few pounds]]"

You find Jenny waiting patiently by the snack table. She's just finishing a bite of something as you return. From the chocolate stain on her lip to the noticably emptier plate of Toll House cookies, it's evident Jenny's nervous energy was spent noshing on Nestles in your absence. Her eyes go wide as you set all four beers on the table. "Just in case we need reinforcements," you say. Then you hand one cup to her and raise another one in the air. "Skoal!" Jenny's face brightens. "How did you know I was Scandinavian?" You didn't. You had once heard skoal used as a toast in a movie and thought it was cooler than 'cheers.' You're about to say something cheesy like deducing it from her appearance, but then remember-- "The spelling of your last name. It's Petersen with an S-E-N, right?" Jenny nods. It's clear you earned a point or two. She then clicks her plastic cup against yours and takes a healthy sip. "Mmmmm, this is pretty good! It's actually pretty awful. You're no underaged lush, but you've tasted enough beers to tell a good one from a bad one. This is cheap watered-down domestic swill. "Yeah, it's nice and cold!" Good or bad, it isn't long before the beer starts having a desirable effect. Jenny's laugh gets louder and she even gets a bit touchy-feely. You may be a couple beers ahead of her, but are still sober enough to realize her giddy mood isn't entirely due to your charm. As she polishes off her second beer you can tell Jenny's transitioning from buzzed to tipsy. With Jenny's height and increased weight you figured it would take at least a couple beers to get her loose, but it seems you've miscalculated. Those Solo cups are 18 ounces and, although Jenny's been eating like a heavyweight lately, she's still a lightweight in the liquor department. Jenny eyes the last beer on the table. "Is this one for me, too?" She says, a little too loudly considering your proximity. You still have a few sips left in yours. What do you do? A.) [[Let her drink.|let her drink II]] B.) [[Suggest she eat something.|grab the brownies II]] C.) [[Suggest you find a quieter place 'to talk.'|upstairs #8]]

You find Jenny waiting patiently by the snack table. She's just finishing a bite of something as you return. From the chocolate stain in the corner of her mouth to the noticably emptier plate of Toll House cookies, it's evident Jenny's nervous energy was spent noshing on Nestles in your absence. You hand her a beer and raise your cup in the air. "Skoal!" Jenny's face brightens. "How did you know I was Scandinavian?" You didn't. You had once heard skoal used as a toast in a movie and thought it was cooler than 'cheers.' You're about to say something cheesy like deducing it from her appearance, but then remember-- "The spelling of your last name. Petersen with an S-E-N, right?" Jenny nods. It's clear you earned a point or two. She then clicks her plastic cup against yours and takes a healthy sip. "Mmmmm, this is pretty good! It's actually pretty awful. You're no underaged lush, but you've tasted enough beers to tell a good one from a bad one. This is cheap watered-down domestic swill. "Yeah, it's nice and cold!" Good or bad, it isn't long before the beer starts having a desirable effect. Jenny's laugh gets louder and she even gets a bit touchy-feely. You may be a couple beers ahead of her, but are still sober enough to realize her giddy mood isn't entirely due to your charm. You were worried one drink wouldn't have an impact, but with her being such a lightweight--from an alcohol standpoint at least--and her 18 oz. red Solo filled to capacity you probably needn't have. Still, it's empty now and no more beer is in either of your immediate futures. Time for action! A.)[[Suggest you eat something.|grab the brownies #4]] B.) [[Try to find a quieter place 'to talk.'|upstairs #9]]

"I have an idea," Jenny says. "Grab the brownies and follow me." What are you waiting for? [[Grab the brownies!|upstairs III]]

Jenny grabs your free hand and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past Tad Fifer (the captain of the football team), a gaggle of gawking girls, and a pack of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Feed me," She says in a breathy whisper. [[What are you waiting for? Feed her!|feed her]]

Jenny cocks her head to the side. "Why would you want to date me?" "Why wouldn't I?" "You don't know anything about me." "I know more than you think." Jenny studies you. "Tell you what--I'll CONSIDER going out with you, but you have to do me a favor first." You arch a brow. "Sexual?" "I want you by my side for the rest of the party," Jenny says, ignoring your question. "I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." "What if he decides he wants to kick my ass?" "I'm afraid that's a risk you're going to have to take." You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negatives. "Deal," you say. You stand and offer her your arm. "Ready, M'lady?" Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" [[Head back to the party arm-in-arm|Jealous Tad II]].

Jenny's head rests heavily against your shoulder, but you don't mind. Every now and then she sniffles and you feel moisture through your shirt. You sense she doesn't want to talk or even be seen, so you just lean your head against hers, savoring the moment and the strawberry smell. After a while, the sniffles subside as does the din downstairs. You check your watch: 11:45. More time has passed than you thought. You gently kiss the crown of Jenny's head. "What do you think? Time to go?" She nods, but doesn't speak. You take her hand as you both stand, and she lets you lead her downstairs and out the door through the thinning crowd. [[Escort her to her car|Ending #8]].

Jenny looks around, then grabs your hand and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past gaggles of gawking girls and packs of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and then falls back onto it like one of those old Nestea commercials, back straight with arms extended. She bounces for a second--sending shock-wave ripples across her soft belly, thick thighs and D-Cup breasts (which nearly spill from her C-Cup bra)--before settling deeply into the mattress as the box-springs creak and groan with her weight. You ease on next to her, trying not to make the same ruckus she did, lest the ceiling come down on the partygoers' heads. Jenny's button-up blouse is splayed open at the bottom, revealing about six inches of bare belly flesh. You place your hand on it and rub it gently in a clock-wise direction. "Mmmmm," Jenny moans pleasurably, stretching her arms above her head. Her eyes are closed and you suspect she's a minute or two from a deep, drunken sleep. "Does that feel good?" Your hand melts into Jenny's warm belly like butter. As you press gently, you detect some firmness--formed by years of disciplined diet and exercise--but Jenny's recent indulgences have buried it under a cocoon of soft flab. You wonder how long until it disappears altogether. As you rub, you notice how tight Jenny's skirt is, even laying down. It presses tight across her rounded stomach with no gap. You pass your hand low across her abdomen, near the top of her waistband, and feel that it's wedged firmly in place. You doubt you'd be able to get more than a finger beneath the band, even with her stomach's newfound pliability. "This looks uncomfortable." You wedge your thumb between Jenny's gut and the denim fabric of her skirt. Giving the waistband a gentle shake, you admire the fat ripples that flow upwards across Jenny's belly before disappearing beneath her blouse. "Would you like me to loosen this for you?" "Mmm, hmm," Jenny smiles, but doesn't open her eyes. You attempt to unclasp the skirt with one hand, but have no slack to work with. Using both hands, and a surprising amount of effort, you pinch together enough fabric that the clasp comes undone. Free from constriction, the zipper shoots down several inches and Jenny's milky-white flesh fills the gap. With her every breath the zipper creeps lower, gradually revealing Jenny's red panties like a vibrant sunrise emerging against a bed of pale clouds. "Is that better?" A whispery rasp is the only response you get. Was that a snore? You wonder if Jenny's always snored or if it's a product of her new poundage. Maybe with another 20-30 pounds it wouldn't sound so delicate? "Jenny?" She still doesn't stir. Your heart races as you ogle the voluptuous beauty at your side. What do you do? [[Try to wake her]]. [[Undo her top|Ending #16]].

You undo the bottom button of Jenny's blouse and move up from there. As each one is undone, the garment splays further across her abdomen. By the forth button you've reached her rib cage, and although it rises slightly higher than her stomach, doesn't have the sharp concave slope from her abdomen you would expect of someone lying flat on their back. And even though you can discern where her rib cage begins, her individual ribs are obscured by the adipose cocoon Jenny's eaten herself into. Just as you're about to undo the final button across Jenny's chest, the bedroom door flies open and Tad Fifer's Adonis form fills the frame. For a second, time stands still. Tad stands rigid in the doorway while you lie frozen on the bed, your fingers perched over Jenny's breasts as she lies prone and unresponsive beside you. Unfortunately, the seconds that follow involve pain. Lots of pain. Somehow Jenny remains unconscious despite the thrashing you receive. A fact that doesn't help your case once the police arrive. THE END

"Jenny?" Still no response. You brush a few stray strands of blonde hair from Jenny's face and tilt it towards you. Her skin is slack and her head rolls like it's unattached. "Jenny!" You gently kiss her lips, hoping it will rouse her a la Sleeping Beauty, but they're as limp and lifeless as the rest of her. You roll away from Jenny onto your back and sigh. Lying beside her, you watch her chest rise and fall. At least she's still breathing...and God does she know how to breathe! You sit up on the edge of the bed and rub your forehead. This dream has turned into a nightmare. Everyone saw you come upstairs with Jenny--you can't just abandon her half-undressed in someone's bedroom, but what other choice do you have? Your eye is suddenly drawn to the ripe red of Jenny's panties crowded beneath the slope of her chubby white belly. The open flaps of her skirt frame them in a V-shape...like a neon arrow pointing to nirvana. What do you do? A.) [[Head for the hills]]. B.) [[Head for Jenny's hills|Ending #16]].

Jenny smiles. "Thanks, you're sweet." You're not sure if she believes you, but her genuine smile tells you that at least she appreciates the gesture. You hand her a napkin and she dabs her eyes. What do you say next? A.) [[My Grandma always used to say that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.|what doesn't kill us]] B.) [[My Grandma had a simple solution to problems--EAT!]] C.) [[Lighten the atmosphere with an old school story.|Mrs. Greenbaum]]

Jenny's face tightens. "Well...that remains to be seen." You're not exactly sure how to take that. Jenny senses your confusion and let's you off the hook. "But enough about all that." Her face brightens and she goes into Prom Queen mode. "It's a beautiful night and we've got all this delicious looking food to sample!" What do you do? A.) [["Let's eat!"|lots of eating]] B.) [["Please tell me what's bothering you."|I'm a pretty good listener. Wanna talk about it?]]

(set: $hasKey to false) You feed Jenny like a baby bird, dropping bits of brownie in her mouth as she sits on the edge of the bed with her head tilted back. A chunk falls into her lap and you grab it instinctively, not even thinking about how close your hand is to her crotch. You pull it away quickly. "Oops! Sorry." "You better be!' Jenny grasps your hand and guides it towards her lips. "That's mine!" She gobbles the bite from between your thumb and forefinger and then kisses away the gooey residue staining each of them. Your erection is so strong you're relieved that your low-rise jeans were in the hamper that night. With each brownie, the crest of Jenny's belly peeks further out from beneath her breasts like a full moon emerging behind mountains. It becomes a game to see how far you can get it to stick-out before either Jenny's appetite or the brownie supply dries. With every chocolatey bite it's protuberance becomes more pronounced, and by the final few it rounds-out several inches beyond her Double D's. That old diet adage, "A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips," pops into your head. You hope it's true. Jenny's breaths become quick and shallow and her facial expression transitions from ecstasy to agony. As you lower the final brownie like a crane to lip level, she turns her head away. "I'm done." What do you do? A.) "[[But you're so close|Keep feeding her]]!" B.) [[Let her off the hook]].

Jenny smiles weakly. "I could use a friend." "You got it." You place a hand on her knee and she leans back into you. "Do you want to talk?" "Not really." "Good. I'm more of the strong silent type." You struggle to keep from toppling over as Jenny's weight pushes against you. "Well, I'm pretty silent at least." Jenny laughs, kisses your cheek, and returns her head to your shoulder. A.) [[Just sit with her awhile]]. { (if: $hasKey)[B.) [[Lean in to kiss her.|kiss on bed II]]] (else:)[B.) [[Lean in to kiss her|Ending #7]]]. }

"Oh, GREAT!" Jenny folds her arms across her stomach. "That's just what I need." "What do you mean?" "What do I mean?" Jenny lifts her blouse. Your jaw drops. Fortunately, you're in an unpopulated section of the backyard. Jenny pinches at the blubbery ring of fat encircling her formerly trim waist. "I’ve put on 30 pounds in three months! The last thing I need is something fattening." Then she lowers her blouse, re-crosses her arms, and turns away in a huff. "Ok." It takes a second to regain your composure. "So...drinking is out. Eating is out. What is it that you want?" Jenny turns back. She doesn't smile, or say anything. She just looks you up and down. Then she runs her foot along the inside of your leg. "Maybe I want you?" What do you do? A.) [[Kiss her|the kiss II]]. B.) [[Jenny, you're in a vulnerable state right now and I don't want...Oh, fuck it! (Kiss her!)|the kiss II]]

You lean in and your thin dry lips meet Jenny's moist plump ones. You press firmly against them, but keep your mouth closed and your hands to yourself like a true gentleman. That lasts about two seconds. First, Jenny parts her lips a little bit. No tongue at first, just exploration. You reciprocate. You taste a subtle mix of strawberry lip gloss and chocolate brownie. It’s a nice combo. A few seconds later, your mouths are open and your tongues are tangoing. You scooch close and wrap your arm around Jenny's waist, while she vigorously rubs your thigh like she's trying to start a fire. She already has. You don't want to break the mood or give Jenny a chance to come to her senses, but part of you worries this may not be the best spot for PDA. As you smooch and rub the softness of Jenny's side, that part shrinks while another part grows. What do you do? A,) [[Keep fondling the frisky not-so-little minx|Ending #10]]. B.) [["Let's take this somewhere else"|upstairs #8]].

"Remember, Tad in fifth grade?" Jenny laughs. "He was so little! We called him Tad-pole!" "Maybe you did. Even back then he intimidated me." "Was it his spiky hair?" "Maybe," you nod. "Or maybe it was his chewing tobacco and tattoos." Jenny laughs and places her hand on your leg. "You know what? Fuck Tad!" You hold a finger to your lips. Fortunately, you're in a relatively unpopulated section of the yard. Jenny leans into you as if to whisper, but is still pretty loud. "Let's forget about that little shit." Then she stands somewhat shakily. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat." You stand and she grasps your arm so hard it's painful. You suspect it's for support, but apparently it's a jolt of inspiration. "I have a great idea!" she says. "Follow me!" [[Follow her!|grab the brownies III]]

Jenny smiles and dabs her eyes with the tissue you gave her. "Thanks, you're sweet." You're not sure if she believes you, but her genuine smile shows you that at least she appreciates the gesture. What do you say next? A.) [[My Grandmother always used to say that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger|what doesn't kill us II]]. B.) [[Maybe we should get something to eat?|30 pounds II]] C.) [[Lighten the atmosphere with an old school story|Tad in 5th Grade]]. D.) [[Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?]]

Jenny's face tightens. "Well...that remains to be seen." You're not exactly sure how to take that or what to say. Jenny senses your confusion. "You know what?" she says, her smile returning. "Your Grandma's right. Fuck Tad!" You hold a finger to your lips. Fortunately, you're in a relatively unpopulated section of the yard. Jenny leans in as if to whisper, but is still pretty loud. "Let's forget that little shit." Then she stands somewhat shakily. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat." You stand and she grasps your arm so hard it's painful. You suspect it's for support, but apparently it's a jolt of inspiration. "I have a great idea!" she says. "Follow me!" What do you do? A.) "[[Let's eat!|grab the brownies III]]" B.) "[[Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?]]."

Jenny waves you off. "You don't really want to know." "Sure, I do." "Ok." Jenny looks around. The crowd has thickened and spread close to your area. "But not here." Jenny stands unsteadily. You quickly rise and take hold of her arm. She grasps your hand and says, "follow me." [[Follow her!|upstairs #5]]

You attempt to redress Jenny, but can't get her skirt's buttons within an inch of each other. Abandoning that, you try to position her less suggestively, but she's dead weight--all 170ish pounds of her. All you can do is pivot her body towards the headboard and stick a pillow under her head so it looks like she's taking a pre-coital nap. You quietly shut the door and then hurry down the stairs-- To find Tad Fifer waiting for you at the last step. Even though he’s a step below you, he’s still taller. "What’d you do with Jenny, dork?" "I...uh...well, she's..." Tad’s eyes bulge and his face turns bright red. He shoves you hard against the railing and storms up the stairs. You don't wait around. The rest of your weekend is spent waiting for cop cars to show up at your home, or for Tad Fifer to show up to administer a beating, or both. To your amazement, neither happens. You're certain the hammer will drop come Monday, but everything is status quo. Maybe Jenny came to your defense? Maybe bones in Tad's closet kept him from breaking yours? Who knows? After a few weeks, the feeling of impending doom goes away, but is replaced by one that lingers the rest of your life--guilt. THE END Epilogue: [[What happened to Jenny?|Ending #17]]

Jenny and Tad get back together and, predictably, are elected Prom King and Queen, "Senior Class Couple," and a host of other titles beautiful and popular people receive as a matter of course. Still, the zip in Jenny's hips is gone. Things really go to shit just before graduation, when Jenny shows up to school with mysterious bruises. Of course, she blames cheerleading practice. Everybody knows it's bullshit, but nobody does anything. At least not beyond whispering about it in the halls. (A popular joke is that Jenny's Commencement Walk will be a limp.) Your shame compels you to stay among the quiet masses. After graduation, you asssume Jenny will go off to bigger and better things. Instead, Tad knocks her up and they get married. (Though the order is debated in some circles, you don't have to be a math whiz like Jenny to count to nine.) He takes a coaching job at the High School, while she works at the local pharmacy. The oversize labcoat she wears does a pretty good job concealing the pregnancy--which you expect was by design--but it doesn't hide her unhappiness. Of course, Jenny's radiant smile fools most people, and for a while the only bumps Jenny gets from Tad are the belly kind. But after her second child, she leaves the pharmacy to be a stay-at-home-mom and that's when things go from bad to worse. Out of the public eye for the first time in her life, Jenny balloons. By the third pregnancy she's well over 200 pounds and is threatening 300 by the forth. That's when stories of drunken beatings and late-night police visits start circulating. Tad's indiscretions eventually cost him his job, his marriage and his freedom, but that only makes things worse. Divorced and forced to care for four kids by herself, Jenny is reduced to taking a job at a local diner. "Have you seen Jenny Petersen lately?" becomes a common question in the town's laundry mats, bars, and post office. It's usually followed by an expletive, a laugh, or a piteous shake of the head depending on the audience. You never go to the diner again and always answer with a curt "No" whenever the question is posed to you. Eventually, Jenny Petersen is forgotten as the exploits of a new youthful cast of characters occupies the town's fancy. For years, however, it's common to hear townsfolk pontificate on the next aspiring actress, model, dancer, or beauty queen with the same refrain-- "She's cute, but she's no Jenny Petersen."

Jenny winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past gaggles of gawking girls and packs of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Do you really want to know?" She says in a breathy whisper. What you really want is to push her back on the bed and ravage her, but you’re pretty sure now's not the time. You like her. You don’t want to be a dick. You suspect she’s had to deal with her share. A.) [[Definitely|Tad rape II]]. B.) [[I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable|Ending #18]].

(set: $hasKey to true)\ "About four months ago, right at the start of the year, I went to a Senior kick-off party with Tad." You nod. You have a sinking suspicion where this is going. "There wasn’t supposed to be alcohol there, so I wasn’t even thinking about it. Anyway, Tad kept bringing me this punch. It was really good and I kept asking for more of it. Anyway, I must’ve had 3 cups in 15 minutes. Then all of a sudden it hit me. I felt flush and light-headed…but really, really good. It hit me so fast I didn’t even have time to get mad. I knew what had happened, but I felt so carefree and loose I didn’t stop. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in my own bed the next morning in the same clothes I had on. At first, I was grateful that Tad got me home safely, but then I noticed the clasps of my bra were done up wrong and…well…there were other clues." You squirm a bit. Why is she telling you all this? You’re not exactly close. Maybe you just answered your own question. "Anyway, I confronted Tad the next day and he swears nothing happened. It’s not like I have much recourse even if it did. Anyway, I felt ashamed…violated…stupid. I had just posted those underage drinking posters a few days before. I felt like a hypocrite." Jenny let’s out a dry chuckle. "Now I just feel like a hippo." A.) [[What do you mean?|30 pounds]] B.) [[How can I help?|friend]] C.) [[That Tad is an asshole|asshole Tad]].

Jenny blinks a few times then recoils back like you slapped her. "Make me feel uncomfortable?" She stands and heads for the door. "I think the only one who's uncomfortable around here is you!" "Jenny, wait!" It's too late. She's gone. You rest your head in your hands for a bit, then take the walk of shame back to the party. You're welcomed back with laughter and catcalls. Most saw you go upstairs with Jenny, only to see her leave in a huff a few seconds later. "Minute Man" becomes your nickname for the rest of the year. THE END

Jenny greets your probing tongue like Parisians welcoming the blitzkrieg. (You're covering WWII in World History.) At first, you mistake her "Mmmmmm" for passion, but the confusion clears quickly when she clamps her teeth on your tongue. "Ow!" You put a hand to your tongue and find it spotted with blood. "What did you do that for?" "I'm sorry! You just took me by surprise." Jenny stands and races for the door. "I'd better go." "Jenny, wait!" It's too late. She's gone. You take the walk of shame back to the party and are welcomed with laughter and catcalls. Most saw you go upstairs with Jenny, only to see her leave embarrassed a few minutes later. "Minute Man" becomes your nickname for the rest of the year. THE END

You place your hand just above Jenny's knee, right below the hem of her skirt. You're amazed how warm her leg is. While your extremities turn icy come cold, Jenny's seem to radiate thermal energy. As you kiss, your hand inches up her thigh beneath her skirt. You're just getting to the meaty part when Jenny pushes your hand back down the slope of her leg. She keeps kissing you, however. What do you do? A.) [[Grandma always said "If at first you don't succeed..." (Let Mr. Hand visit Thighland.)|Ending #20]] B.) [[Introduce Jenny to Mr. Tongue|Ending #19]]. C.) [[Let the kiss end naturally|kiss ends]].

You open the note. It reads: 867-5309 Jenny Below that, in smaller script, is a PS: Ha! Ha! Just kidding. I'm a classic rock fan. It's actually 422-8024. You fold the note and put it in your pocket.

Once again you feel the warm flesh of Jenny's thigh-- For about two seconds. Then an even warmer sensation crosses your cheek. "Ow!" You put a hand to your cheek. "What did you do that for?" "There's more where that came from, asshole." Jenny stands and races for the door. "No means no!" "Jenny, wait!" It's too late. She's gone. You take the walk of shame back to the party and are welcomed with laughter and catcalls. Most saw you go upstairs with Jenny, only to see her leave in a huff a few minutes later. "Minute Man" becomes your nickname for the rest of the year. THE END

You shoot rock on three-- And Jenny does the same! She smiles. "I guess we think alike." "I'm a huge rock fan." "Me too!" She says. "Ok, here we go! Rock...paper...scissors...shoot!" What do you shoot? A.) [[Rock|Rock II]]. B.) [[Paper]]. C.) [[Scissors]].

You shoot paper-- And Jenny shoots rock! You win! You playfully place your palm over Jenny's balled fist. "Right!" Jenny says. She sets her fist in her lap and rubs it with her other hand. "I suppose that means we're having a drink." For a girl constructed of pure sex, she looks innocent sitting there on the edge of the bed--uncertainty in her eyes and a delicate pout on her lips. You feel bad making Jenny do something she's not keen on...but then you spy the generous cleavage emerging from her blouse and realize a few drinks might be the only thing separating you. What do you do? [[A bet's a bet!|Go grab some beers!]] [[Let Jenny off easy]].

You shoot scissors on three. Unfortunately, Jenny shoots rock. "Uh-oh, rock breaks scissors." She playfully bops your finger scissors with her balled fist. "I win! Ready to be my chaperone for the evening?" You stand and offer her your arm. "Ready, M'lady?" Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" [[Head back to the party arm-in-arm|Jealous Tad]].

You call "Tails" as the coin is in the air. Jenny catches it with one hand, then quickly flips it over onto the back of the other. She hesitates a second, then reveals-- It's "Heads". You lose! "Ready to be my chaperone for the evening?" Jenny says. You stand and offer her your arm. "Ready, M'lady?" Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" [[Head back to the party arm-in-arm|Jealous Tad]].

You shoot rock again-- And Jenny does the same! "I'm stubborn," you say. "I'm stubborn too," she fires back. "Ok, once more. Rock...paper...scissors...shoot!" What do you shoot this time? A.) [[Rock|Rock II]]. B.) [[Paper]]. C.) [[Scissors]].

Jenny shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I can't." "Wrong side of the tracks?" "No, it's not that." "Too muscular for you?" Jenny laughs. "Yes, I'm afraid so." "Damn! I knew it." Jenny's mood turns somber. "Let's just say things are a little complicated for me right now." Apparently, you don't do a very good job of hiding your disappointment because her face immediately brightens back. "Ask me for something else." You raise an eyebrow. "Anything?" She arches hers right back. "Within reason." A.) [[Forget it. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?|I'm a pretty good listener. Wanna talk about it?]] B.) [[A kiss?|upstairs I]] { (if: $hasKey)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|get beer]]] } D.) [[Do you like brownies?]]

Jenny pats her stomach. "Well, that's a silly question." You gesture to the brownie platter on the appetizer table. It appears about a dozen remain. "I bet you can't eat the rest of them." She shoots you a sideways look. "You obviously don't know me very well." "Well then prove it." Jenny folds her arms and cocks her head, not sure if you're serious. You fold your arms in response. "You owe me." "Ok." Jenny looks around the thickening crowd. "But not here. Grab them and follow me." [[Follow her!|upstairs III]]

"Fine," she says. "But what are the stakes?" A.) [[A date|A date II]]. B.) [[Another kiss]]. { (if: $hasKey)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Drink with me]]] }

"Oh, I don't know," Jenny says. You can tell she wants to, but needs some positive reinforcement. "All the cool kids are doing it!" You say wryly. Jenny smiles. "I really shouldn't." "I won't tell anyone. I promise." "Well..." You raise your eyebrows and try to look innocent. You have real doubt as to what she'll say, and are already scrambling to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the response you were hoping for comes from her luscious lips: "Sure." Then she adds a caveat. "But if I win, I want you to be by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." It seems like a win-win to you. You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negative thoughts. "Deal," you say. "Ok." There's a gleam in Jenny's eye as she positions herself at the edge of the bed with her arms extended. "Rock...paper...scissors...shoot!" What do you shoot? A.) [[Rock]]. B.) [[Paper]]. C.) [[Scissors]].

"If I win I get to kiss you again, but if you win you get to kiss me this time." Jenny smiles wryly. "Gee, that seems fair. Tell you what--if you win we'll kiss...maybe even a bit more...but if I win, I want you by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." It seems like a win-win to you. You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negatives. "Deal," you say. "Ok." There's a gleam in Jenny's eye as she positions herself at the edge of the bed with her arms extended. "Ready? Rock...paper...scissors..." "SHOOT!" What do you shoot? A.) [[Rock]]. B.) [[Paper|Paper II]]. C.) [[Scissors]].

Fine, but what are the stakes? A.) [[A date|A date II]]. B.) [[Another kiss|Another kiss II]]. { (if: $hasKey)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Drink with me II]]] }

"If I win I get to kiss you again, but if you win you get to kiss me this time." Jenny smiles wryly. "Gee, that seems fair. Tell you what--if you win we'll kiss...maybe even a bit more...but if I win, I want you by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." It seems like a win-win to you. You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negatives. "Deal," you say. "Ok." There's a gleam in Jenny's eye as she holds out the coin between her thumb and index finger. "Ready?" She flips it high in the air. What do you call? A.) [[Heads]]. B.) [[Tails]].

"Oh, I don't know," Jenny says. You can tell she wants to, but needs some positive reinforcement. "All the cool kids are doing it!" You say wryly. Jenny smiles. "I really shouldn't." "I won't tell anyone. I promise." "Well..." You raise your eyebrows and try to look innocent. You have real doubt as to what she'll say, and are already scrambling to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the response you were hoping for comes from her luscious lips: "Sure." Then she adds a caveat. "But if I win, I want you to be by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad to see us together." You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negative thoughts. "Deal," you say. "Ready?" Jenny flips the coin high in the air. What do you call? A.) [[Heads|Heads II]]. B.) [[Tails]].

You call "Heads" as the coin is in the air. Jenny catches it with one hand, then quickly flips it over onto the back of the other. She hesitates a second, then reveals-- It's heads! You win! "Right!" Jenny says. She clasps her hands around the coin. "I suppose that means we're having a drink." For a girl constructed of pure sex, she looks innocent sitting there on the edge of the bed--uncertainty in her eyes and a delicate pout on her lips. You feel bad making Jenny do something she's not keen on...but then you spy the generous cleavage emerging from her blouse and realize a few drinks might be the only thing separating you. What do you do? [[A bet's a bet!|Go grab some beers!]] [[Let Jenny off easy]].

(set: $hasKey to true)\ You race from the room and head outside where Cliff Martin--a doughy-faced Junior who had been designated tapmaster--presides over a silver keg and a long line of teenagers waiting to pay hommage. From the restless looks in line to the way Cliff is struggling to produce foam cups filled with anything but foam, you're certain you've got a long wait in front of you. And the thought of giving Jenny alone time to think about what she's doing with you makes you cringe. What do you do? A.) [[Offer to help Cliff|help cliff]]. B.) [[Try to find someone you know in line to cut with|cut]]. C.) [[Try to scrounge an alternative fuel source|alternative]].

You spend the next two hours dutifully hanging out with Jenny and providing her with PG-13 public displays of affection. You hold her hand, drape an arm around her shoulder, and even kiss her neck occasionally. In between you laugh about old times in grade school, discuss classic rock (she's a huge fan of the Beatles and Queen), and poke fun at a gaggle of girls cloistered together in the corner staring at their phones. It would be perfect if you knew it wasn't for show, but you're not above being used--especially when it's by a world-class beauty like Jenny. For what it's worth, she treats you like you're the only other person at the party. And she pretty much gives you carte blanche to show affection as you see fit. (She does shoot you a "watch it" look when your hand brushes a bit of breast flesh, but that was an accident.) Jenny gets fidgety, however, when you get anywhere near the prodigious poundage she's procured. During a slow dance, your hands settle on the love-handles at her sides and she immediately grabs them and guides them to her back where she positions them along the sharp slope of her posterior. You find it odd she would rather have you touch her ass than her waist, but you really don't care. It's a win-win. Or maybe it's because she knows it will drive Tad crazier. And it does. You try not to make eye-contact, but Tad's face keeps getting redder and redder as you dance. Out of a sense of self-preservation, you inch your hands higher up her back, but you can tell by the look on Tad's face that it's probably too little, too late. Tad guzzles his beer, drops the empty cup on the floor, and heads in your direction-- But continues past you into the hall. A few seconds later, the front door slams hard enough to shake the entire house. "Whoa! He ran off half-cocked," you say. Jenny smiles. "He's all cock." She notices you've stopped dancing. "What are you doing?" "I figured that was mission accomplished." Jenny pulls you tight against her and kisses you gently on the lips. "The mission's not over until I say it's over." For the rest of the party you and Jenny talk, dance, and flirt. You have a great time, but eventually the crowd thins and it's time to go home. [[Walk her to her car|Ending #21]]

You walk hand-in-hand down the street towards Jenny's red Audi. It's parked pretty far down the street, but still way too close for your liking. When you reach it, Jenny opens the driver's door and then turns back to you. "I want to thank you for helping me get through tonight. I don’t think I would’ve made it without you." Jenny wraps her meaty arms around you and pulls you tight against her. It feels like you’re melting against the warm softness of her breasts and belly. Your arms are pinned beneath hers so you’re limited to a brief, but enjoyable, exploration of her spongy back. Long before you’re ready, Jenny breaks the embrace. “And I’m certain I would’ve eaten everything on that snack table if I didn’t have you to talk to.” You force a smile. “Happy to help.” Jenny gets in her car. Turns the ignition. Waves. And then disappears into the night. In the weeks to come, Jenny’s fortunes take a serious uptick. She loses weight, regains her position as Head Cheerleader, and is nominated for Prom Queen. In fairness, she is super sweet whenever you see her at lunch or in the halls, always making a point to talk to you even if it means ignoring her ever-growing herd of devotees. You consider asking Jenny out several times, but just don’t feel the same enthusiasm. You’re not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s your subconscious reminding you that she’s once again out of your league. Maybe it’s because you can’t reconcile her new sinewy supermodel form with the vision of ripe femininity from months before. Maybe it’s just the natural realization that your window of opportunity has closed. Fortunately, your dalliance with Jenny opens up other opportunities. Girls who never gave you the time of day before are suddenly asking superfluous questions ("What chapter are we supposed to read?" "Are you going to the football game Friday?" etc., etc.) Ultimately, it's Sally Jamison, one of Jenny's more pleasingly plump hangers-on, who catches your eye. You're certain Sally's sudden cozying was influenced by Jenny somehow. Maybe Jenny spoke highly of you to her? Or maybe Jenny was aware that Sally is more your type? Or maybe Sally just wanted to make Jenny jealous? (You know how catty High School girls can be.) Whichever way it went, you really don't care. Sally's no Jenny, but she's bubbly and has a healthy appetite...for all sorts of things. THE END

"I have an idea," Jenny says. "Grab the brownies and follow me." What are you waiting for? [[Grab the brownies!|upstairs #7]]

Jenny's eyes widen. "I'm getting WHAT?" You wish like hell you could erase the last 10 seconds, but that power eludes you. Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. "What the actual fuck? You stuff me with brownies and then tell me how fat I'm getting?" "Jenny, I'm not being critical. I like it!" She stands, towering over you. "What are you, some sort of freak?" As you stutter and stammer, Jenny struggles to zip-up her skirt. You know she won't be able to get it zipped again anytime soon. Maybe ever. "Shit!" Jenny gives up and relaxes her belly. It surges forward, rounding into a perfect pot and pushing her skirt's flaps even lower. Jenny places a hand on its crest, lowers her head, and begins to sob. "What am I going to do?" You touch Jenny's arm and give it a gentle rub. "Look, Jenny, let me go grab your jacket. Where'd you put it? On the couch?" You're halfway out the door when Jenny stops you. "No!" Jenny stomps over to you. Her eyes are red and puffy, and tears have unsettled her makeup. "I don't want you to do anything for me!" She pushes past you into the hall, fighting with her skirt on the way to the stairs. You call to her as she descends. "Jenny, your platter!" "Keep it!" And she's gone. You turn back into the room. It's a disaster--crumbs are everywhere and the bed is a crumpled mess of soiled sheets. You spend the rest of the night cleaning up your mess. But are never able to clean-up the mess with Jenny. THE END

You rub your hand along the side of her stomach. It's warm and firm. "Mmmmm," Jenny moans pleasurably, stretching her arms above her head. You circle the circumferance of her tummy like a planet orbiting a belly-button star at the center of an expanding galaxy. As your hand warms, you add a bit more pressure, gradually working your way up the slope of her stomach with each pass. Eventually, you reach its crest and arrive at Jenny's dainty belly button, which looks out of place against the overfed gut it rests atop. You circle it a like a drain a few times then slowly trace it's inside rim with your index finger. Finally, you lean in and give it a gentle kiss, surprised how warm it is on your lips. You look to Jenny. She's asleep! "Jenny?" A whispery rasp is the only response you get. Was that a snore? You wonder if Jenny's always snored or if it's a product of her new poundage. Maybe with another 20-30 pounds it wouldn't sound so delicate? Your heart races as you ogle the voluptuous beauty at your side. What do you do? [[Try to wake her]]. [[Undo her top|Ending #16]].

As Jenny rubs your arm, you continue your massage. You notice her stomach is starting to soften as the dozen or so brownies work their way through her system. (Although its dough-like pliability suggests a couple may have decided to take up residence.) You cup your hand and move it back and forth down the slope of her lower-abdomen like a slalom skier, applying gentle pressure against her silky smooth skin as you go. Soon, you're rubbing against the elastic waistband of her fiery red panties. You press against her taught flesh and manuever your fingers beneath its fabric. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a flaxen tuft rising like a forest at the base of a sloping hill. It's clear Jenny's a natural blonde...It's also pretty clear she wasn't expecting visitors. Her pubic mound is mildly coarse, but not unpleasant to touch. It feels a little like the tail of a deer you once felt at a nature exhibit. You smile, imagining Jenny as Bambi with you about to Thumper. Jenny's wispy forest gives way to wetlands as you push your fingers deeper beneath the red canopy of her panties. She lets out a soft moan as you probe the damp flesh around her vagina. Strangely, you're not at all nervous. Part of it is the cups of courage you downed earlier (along with years of watching porn), but mostly it's Jenny herself. You'd think driving a Ferrari your first time behind the wheel would be nerve-wracking, but she's given you the keys and is responding willingly. As you run your middle finger along the length of her slit, you diddle her clit with your thumb. Pushing your finger inside her, Jenny's legs kick involuntarily. When a second finger joins the first Jenny rocks back and forth on the bed, her upper body propped on her elbows and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Eyes closed, mouth open. Fat rolls bunch around her waist as her body convulses. The deeper you probe, the deeper the creases across her abdomen. You lean in and kiss her swollen belly like a mother might kiss a child's injured finger. You're not sure which is greater, your desire to mount Jenny or your desire to watch this perfect 10 (maybe a 9 now) fatten herself into oblivion. As Jenny approaches climax, you better make a decision. A.) Continue massaging her. B.) Comment on how fat she's getting|Ending #22]]. C.) Forget brownies! It's time to stuff Jenny properly|Remove her panties]]!

You remove your fingers from Jenny's orifice and start sliding her skirt down the slopes of her hips. "No!" You freeze. Jenny's voice is panicked...but then it softens. "Please, don't stop." You smile and return your hand between Jenny's meaty thighs. "As you wish." [[Continue your massage|Continue massaging her]].

You plunge your digits deeper into Jenny's pussy. You're somewhat constricted by Jenny's panties and the angle of your descent, but Jenny makes it clear your exploratory expedition is a roaring success. You kiss across her abdomen, stopping to tickle her belly button with your tongue. At the same time, you burrow your left hand beneath Jenny's blouse and run your fingers along the thin fabric separating you from Jenny's perfectly rounded mounds. Your mom's been on you about multitasking. If she could only see you now. Soon, Jenny's convulsions make it difficult to do much of anything. You diddle faster as her spasms intensify...until she suddenly freezes, knees high, torso tucked, and a pained expression on her face. You freeze too, thinking you might have hurt her, but then she collapses back onto the matress, completely drained and relaxed. After a moment, Jenny rolls on her side facing you. She playfully walks her fingers across the matress to your side, then follows the path of your belt until she reaches the buckle. [["Now it's your turn."|BJ]]

Jenny waves you off. "You don't really want to know." "Sure, I do." "Ok." Jenny looks around. The crowd has thickened and spread close to your area. "But not here. Follow me." [[Follow her!|upstairs II]]

"Oooh, I love to play trivia!" You shudder. You hate trivia, and can only imagine the kind of Final Jeopardy questions a brain like Jenny will come up with. She pulls out her phone. "I have an app that randomly generates trivia questions in different categories... But what are the stakes?" A.) [[A date.|A date II]] B.) [[Another kiss.|Another kiss III]] { (if: $hasKey)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Ending #11]]] (else:)[C.) [[Drink a beer with me.|Drink with me III]]] }

"If I win I get to kiss you again, but if you win you get to kiss me this time." Jenny smile wryly. "Seems fair to me. Tell you what--if you win we'll kiss...maybe even a bit more...but if I win, I want you by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." It seems like a win-win to you. You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negatives. "Deal," you say. "Ok," Jenny says. "I'll let you choose the category, but you have to get the question right. If you miss it, I win..." "What category do you want?" A.) [[American History|History II]]. B.) [[Geography|Geography II]]. C.) [[Science|Science II]].

"Oh, I don't know," Jenny says. You can tell she wants to, but needs some positive reinforcement. "All the cool kids are doing it!" You say wryly. Jenny smiles. "I really shouldn't." "I won't tell anyone. I promise." "Well..." You raise your eyebrows and try to look innocent. You have real doubt as to what she'll say, and are already scrambling to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the response you were hoping for comes from her luscious lips: "Sure." Then she adds a caveat. "But if I win, I want you to be by my side for the rest of the party. I especially want Tad Fifer to see us together." It seems like a win-win to you. You're not wild about being used, or placing yourself in Tad Fifer's crosshairs, but spending the night cuddling up to Jenny overrides any negative thoughts. "Deal," you say. "Ok, I'll let you choose that category, but you have to get the question right. If you miss it, I win..." "What category do you want?" A.) [[American History]]. B.) [[Geography]]. C.) [[Science]].

Jenny reads the question: "What president first said, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself'?" A.) [[Harry S. Truman|Loser]]. B.) [[Franklin D. Rossevelt|Winner]]. C.) [[John F. Kennedy|Loser]]

Jenny reads the question: "What is the Earth's largest continent?" A.) [[Asia|Winner]]. B.) [[Europe|Loser]]. C.) [[Africa|Loser]].

Jenny reads the question: "It what type of matter are atoms most tightly packed?" A.) [[Liquid|Loser]]. B.) [[Solid|Winner]]. C.) [[Gas|Loser]].

Jenny reads the question: "What president first said, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself'?" A.) [[Harry S. Truman|Loser II]]. B.) [[Franklin D. Rossevelt|Winner II]]. C.) [[John F. Kennedy|Loser II]]

Jenny reads the question: "What is the Earth's largest continent?" A.) [[Asia|Winner II]]. B.) [[Europe|Loser II]]. C.) [[Africa|Loser II]].

Jenny reads the question: "It what type of matter are atoms most tightly packed?" A.) [[Liquid|Loser II]]. B.) [[Solid|Winner II]]. C.) [[Gas|Loser II]].

"Right!" Jenny says. She clasps her hands together. "I suppose that means we're having a drink." For a girl constructed of pure sex, she looks innocent sitting there on the edge of the bed--uncertainty in her eyes and a delicate pout on her lips. You feel bad making Jenny do something she's not keen on...but then you spy the generous cleavage emerging from her blouse and realize a few drinks might be the only thing separating you. What do you do? A.) [[A bet's a bet!|Go grab some beers!]] B.) [[Let Jenny off easy]].

"I'm afraid that's incorrect." Jenny stands and offers you her hand. "Ready to be my chaperone for the evening?" You sigh. "If I have to." Then you smile, stand, and grasp her hand. [[Head back to the party|Jealous Tad]].

Jenny arches her eyebrow. "Did you miss that on purpose?" "You'll never know!" You stand and offer Jenny your arm. "Ready for me to be your chaperone for the evening?" Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" [[Head back to the party arm-in-arm|Jealous Tad]].

Jenny rolls her eyes. "Oh, that was too easy! Oh well, a bet's a bet." Jenny reclines back on the bed. "Let's try it from here this time." [[Lay back and pucker up|second kiss]]!

Jenny cocks her head to the side. "Why would you want to date me?" "Why wouldn't I?" "I come with some excess baggage." You squeeze..."That's one of the things I like about you." She shoots you a dirty look. "You really don't know much about me." "I know more than you think." "Tell you what. If you can prove it, I'll go out with you." "Fair enough. How do I do that?" "Answer me these questions three, and more of Jenny you shall see." A hot girl that knows Monty Python? Yes, please! (set: _list to (array: "Question 1", "Question 2", "Question 3")) (link-goto: "First Question", (shuffled: ..._list)'s 1st)

What did the school poster campaign I was involved in deal with? [[Safe sex|wrong]]. [[Underage drinking|correct 1]]. [[Texting and driving|wrong]].

What's my favorite kind of music? [[Rock|correct 1]]. [[Classical|wrong]]. [[Jazz|wrong]].

Who's my favorite band? [[Queen|correct 1]]. [[Maroon 5|wrong]]. [[The Pussycat Dolls|wrong]].

What kind of car do I drive? [[Ferrari|wrong]]. [[Audi|correct 2]]. [[Mercedes|wrong]].

What did I want to be when I was younger? [[Ballet Dancer|correct 2]]. [[Nurse|wrong]]. [[Actress|wrong]].

Why do I come to these parties? [[The food|wrong]]. [[To hang with your peeps|wrong]]. [[To be a designated driver|correct 2]].

What's my favorite dessert? [[Chocolate chip cookies|wrong]]. [[Skittles|wrong]] [[Brownies|correct 3]].

What sport do I play? [[Water Polo|wrong]]. [[Volleyball|correct 3]]. [[Tennis|wrong]].

What's my favorite game? [[Monopoly|wrong]]. [[Chess|wrong]]. [[Trivia|correct 3]].

"Y'know what?" you say. "We don't need to drink anything." "Are you sure?" The relief in Jenny's voice is palpable. "I'm sure," you say, smiling. "Besides, why do I need beer goggles when I'm with you?" Crimson flashes across Jenny's alabaster cheeks. She smiles at her knees then exhales audibly. "What would you like to do then?" How do you respond? A.) "[[Too late for another kiss]]?" B.) "[[You said something about making Tad jealous]]?" C.) "[[So what's the deal with you and Tad]]?" D.) "[[So tell me about Jenny Petersen]]." E.) "[[Care to rejoin the party|rejoin the party]]?"

Jenny shakes her head. "Aw, give me another chance," you say. "That was a tough one." "Tell you what I'll do..." Jenny takes a napkin out of her purse and then fishes a pen from the car's center console. "I'm going to write down the correct answer. You memorize it, and maybe I'll give you another chance sometime." She folds the napkin twice after writing on it and hands it to you. Then she shuts the door. Turns the ignition. And drives into the night. You watch her car disapper and then open the napkin. It reads: //867-5309 Jenny// Below that, in smaller script, is a PS: //Ha! Ha! Just kidding. It's actually 422-8024.// You fold the napkin, put it in your pocket, and whistle your way down the dark street. THE END

Jenny smiles and nods her head. "See?" you say. "I know you better than you think I do." "Oh, no! I'm not letting you off THAT easy. That was just a warm-up." (set: _list to (array: "Question 4", "Question 5", "Question 6")) (link-goto: "Second Question", (shuffled: ..._list)'s 1st)

Jenny sighs. "Lucky guess." You fold your arms across your chest. "Have I proven my worth yet, Ms. Petersen?" "Not quite." There's a wicked gleam in Jenny's eye. (set: _list to (array: "Question 7", "Question 8", "Question 9")) (link-goto: "Third Question", (shuffled: ..._list)'s 1st)

Jenny starts the ignition. "Get in." "What?" "I'm giving you a ride home. Get in." You run around the back of the car and open the passenger door. Several cellophane Werther's wrappers fall out and a half-dozen more litter the seat. "Just push that stuff on the floor." There's already an accumulation of wrappers on the floorboard. For as together as Jenny appears in public, she's is a bit of a slob in private. You feel your erection returning. You buckle your seatbelt and Jenny drives off without a word. For several minutes, the only sound is the crunch of your shoes against the litter drift at your feet. "Don't you want to know where I live?" You finally break the silence after going several blocks in the wrong direction. "Not right now," Jenny says matter of factly. "Ok." "How much money do you have?" "$30." Jenny smirks. "I suppose that will have to do." You keep driving. As the blocks pass, the neighborhoods get seedier and seedier. You check your phone: 12:15. It's officially after curfew. What do you do? A.) [[Sit in silence.]] B.) [["Where are we going?"]] C.) [["My parents can't afford much in ransom."]]

You push through the crowded living room and past a few people gathered near the landing before ascending the stairs with your treasure. You made it! The exuberance of your successful mission is replaced by dread, however, as you reach the closed bedroom door. What if you took too long? What if Jenny came to her senses and left? Only one way to find out. [[Open the door|Jenny drinking in room]].

You carry the bottle like a football from the kitchen, not making eye-contact with the kitchen crowd. They don't stop their conversation as you flee, so you take that as a good sign. You avoid returning through the crowd by taking the long way around via a dimly lit hallway running past the empty formal dining room and vacant foyer. As you peer into the living room from the other side, you see Jenny is still waiting for you, occupying her time with chocolate chip cookies. Nothing can stop you now! Shit! Except not having a corkscrew. The last thing you want to do is return to the kitchen, but you suspect the chances of finding a corkscrew in the living room to be minimal. Just as you're pushing through the kitchen's swinging saloon-style doors, Brock Beuerlein, the party's rich kid host, pushes through from the other side. "Heya, Brock." You try to brush past him quickly, but he grabs your arm. His eyes immediately go to the contraband pressed tight against your side. "Whatcha got there, buddy?" "This?" You pull the bottle from the crook of your arm. "I brought this for the party. What's a party without a little vino, am I right?" Brock takes it from you. His eyes go wide as he examines at the label. "This is a Lafite-Rothschild Bordeaux." "Yeah, the attendant at the 7-11 near my house doesn't check I.D.s. Let's pop that baby open!" "This is a $500 bottle." "What can I say?" You swallow hard. "You're worth it." "My parents were saving this to celebrate my Father's promotion." Your face burns red. "Well, now you have two. Huzzah!" Despite your denial, the jig is definitely up. Brock and his cronies debate for a few minutes about what to do with you. You're actually pretty lucky--the overt underage drinking at the party keeps them from calling the cops. It does not stop them from kicking your ass, however. THE END

Thankfully, you enter to find Jenny sitting patiently on the edge of the bed. You catch her biting her nails, and wish she had something more substantial to spend her nervous energy noshing on. You hand her a beer and raise your cup in the air. "Skoal!" Jenny's face brightens. "How did you know I was Scandinavian?" You didn't. You had once heard skoal used as a toast in a movie and thought it was cooler than 'cheers.' You're about to say something cheesy like deducing it from her appearance, but then remember-- "The spelling of your last name. Petersen with an S-E-N, right?" Jenny nods. It's clear you earned a point or two. She then clicks her plastic cup against yours and takes a healthy sip. "Mmmmm, this is pretty good! It's actually pretty awful. You're no underaged lush, but you've tasted enough beers to tell a good one from a bad one. This is cheap watered-down domestic swill. "Yeah, it's nice and cold!" Good or bad, it isn't long before the beer starts having a desirable effect. Jenny's laugh gets louder and she even gets a bit touchy-feely. You may be a couple beers ahead of her, but you're still sober enough to realize her giddy mood isn't entirely due to your charm. You were worried one drink wouldn't have an impact, but with her being such a lightweight--from an alcohol standpoint at least--and her 18 oz. red Solo filled to capacity you probably needn't have. Still, it's empty now and no more beer is in either of your immediate futures. Time for action! [[Lean in to kiss her|kiss on bed II]]. [[Ask if she's hungry|hungry]]. [[Ask her for a date]].

Oh, God, yes I haven't eaten since lunch. You don't argue with her. "I don't [[Go grab my platter of brownies!|get brownies II]]

Thankfully, you enter to find Jenny sitting patiently on the edge of the bed. You catch her biting her nails, and wish she had something more substantial to nosh on with her nervous energy while you were away. You hand her a beer and raise your cup in the air. "Skoal!" Jenny's face brightens. "How did you know I was Scandinavian?" You didn't. You had once heard skoal used as a toast in a movie and thought it was cooler than 'cheers.' You're about to say something cheesy like deducing it from her appearance, but then remember-- "The spelling of your last name. Petersen with an S-E-N, right?" Jenny nods. It's clear you earned a point or two. She then clicks her plastic cup against yours and takes a healthy sip. "Mmmmm, this is pretty good! It's actually pretty awful. You're no underaged lush, but you've tasted enough beers to tell a good one from a bad one. This is cheap watered-down domestic swill. "Yeah, it's nice and cold!" Good or bad, it isn't long before the beer starts having a desirable effect. Jenny's laugh gets louder and she even gets a bit touchy-feely. You may be a couple beers ahead of her, but are still sober enough to realize her giddy mood isn't entirely due to your charm. You can tell by the way Jenny demonstratively swings her 18 oz. Solo cup around during a story that she's due for a refill. There's another beer at the ready, but you wonder if it's necessary. Jenny's a bit of a lightweight...from an alcohol standpoint at least. What do you do? A.) [[Top Jenny off whenever she gets low|top her off]]. B.) [[Swap in the full cup while she's ranting|swap the cup]]. C.) [[She's probably had enough. (Keep it for yourself.)|no more drinking]]

Thankfully, you enter to find Jenny sitting patiently on the edge of the bed. You catch her biting her nails, and wish she had something more substantial to nosh on with her nervous energy while you were away. You sit next to her and reveal the small bottle of tequila tucked under your arm. "I got us something special." Jenny's eyes widen and her mouth drops. "Where did you get that?" "Brock gave it to me," you lie. Last you saw, the party's rich kid host was engrossed in a beer pong game outside. "I've never had tequilla before." Another lie. "And I hoped you might try it with me." Honesty at last! Jenny stifles a giggle then looks around the room like she expecting to find hidden cameras. You feel a bit uncomfortable--she's a good girl and you're the bad boy encouraging her walk on the wild side. Of course, that feeling vanishes as soon as she whispers-- "Sure." You pop the seal and offer the bottle to Jenny. Jenny wrinkles her nose. "You first." You take a swig. It's pretty smooth. Not that you'd expect rotgut in the Beuerlein manor. You hand the bottle to Jenny. She closes her eyes and scrunches her face like she's expecting an explosion, then quickly tilts the bottle above her head and takes a gulp. "Ellghh!" Jenny's face stays scrunched as she recovers from the burn. "That's terrible!" "The first sip is always the worst," you say. As soon as the words leave your lips, you realize your mistake. Jenny eyes you suspiciously. "I thought you'd never had tequila before." As possible responses churn in your head like bingo balls in a hopper, she takes another hit and grimaces. "But you're right." She hands the tequila back to you. You smile and shake your head as you take another sip. "You're quite a girl, Jenny Petersen." "You better believe it." Jenny's eyes gleam. "Now quit hogging the bottle." [[Pass it back]].

You pass the bottle back and forth like a talking stick, and whoever holds it shares personal tales of High School woe. Jenny keeps it more than you. It's clear she has quite a bit to get off her sizable chest. You learn Jenny was demoted as cheer captain last week when her coach deemed her "out of shape." Since then she's been relegated to the back of the line and the base of the pyramid. You also discover that she and Tad Fifer broke up a month back under circumstances she's reticent to explain. She makes it clear she's no longer a fan, however. "Fuck 'em," you say after she finishes a lengthy vent session. "You said it, Brother!" Jenny hoists the tequila over her head. "Fuck 'em!" "Ok, I think it's my turn for a while." You hold out your hand. You're buzzed, but Jenny has blown passed buzzed into blitzed. She hands you an empty bottle. "Whoopsie," she says, shaking it like a rattle. "I guess I was thirsty... Jenny leans forward and touches your knee as if she's about to tell you a secret. A thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. ...Now I'm hungry." You lean in close enough that you can taste her briny breath. "I think I know what you're hungry for." "Brownies!" Jenny holds her arms over her head like she's signaling a touchdown. That's not what you expected. How do you respond? A.) [[Are you sure I can't interest you in something more...substantial?]] B.) [[Aren't you worried about getting fat?]] C.) [[One brownie platter coming up.|get brownies]]

Your thin dry lips meet Jenny's moist plump ones. She's willing, but pulls away after a few seconds. "Let's have dessert." Jenny runs her hand along your inner thigh until it reaches the rock-hard bulge in your jeans. "Then we'll try the main course." [[Brownie time!|get brownies]]

"Fuck it!" Jenny falls back into the bed. The box-springs groan with her weight. "Wasn't that your advise? Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!" She rolls back and forth on the bed to punctuate each expletive. Then Jenny sits up, a serious look on her face. "Besides, I don't know if you've heard..." Jenny lifts her blouse and squeezes the blubbery ring of fat encircling her formerly trim waist. "I'm already fat!" How do you respond? [[Who are you to argue...Brownie time|get brownies]]! [[You're not fat]]!

A few have gone missing since you left, but a good 8-9 still remain. You consider dumping them into a napkin for transport, but figure that would be just as conspicuous as what you ultimately do-- Grab the whole platter and beeline it upstairs. Most guests are too wrapped-up in who they're hanging with or hitting on to notice what you're up to. You get a few 'WTF' glances and Ben Tramer, who saw you go upstairs with Jenny earlier, shouts as you ascend: "Watcha tryin' do do, earn some 'brownie points'?" But no obstacles stand in your way. As you reach the bedroom with your treasure, you wonder what effects your booty will have on Jenny's. [[Time to find out|enter with brownies]]!

"That's what my girlfriends say....then they bring me candy and talk shit behind my back. Buncha bitches!" "They're just jealous 'cause you're the most beautiful girl in school." "Aw, you're sweet." She reaches out and 'boops' your nose with her finger, then falls back onto the mattress. "It isn't true though." "Are you kidding?" You crawl onto the bed beside her. "You're the best looking girl in the whole city. Probably the state." "What about Darla Olson?" Darla Olson lived in an adjacent county and was a finalist for Miss America a few years back. "You're WAY more attractive than Darla Olson." That was no alcohol induced lie. You find it difficult to fathom any man, or woman, in their right mind choosing a lithe gym rat like Darla over a lush sexpot like Jenny. "Maybe 30 pounds ago. Could you imagine me in the swimsuit competition now? The Jello jingle would be my runway music." You fall silent for a second, distracted by a vision of Jenny wiggling and jiggling across a stage in her bikini. "You could gain another 30 pounds and still be way hotter than Darla Olson." "What about 50?" "Absolutely." "What about 100?" You smile. "let's not get crazy." Jenny rolls across the bed laughing hysterically. You stop her as she rolls back your way. "You'd still be hot enough for me though." You brush a few stray hairs from her face, then lean down to-- [[Kiss her|kiss on bed II]].

Jenny winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past gaggles of gawking girls and packs of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as you head up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. You pop the seal and offer the bottle to Jenny. Jenny wrinkles her nose. "You first." You take a swig. It's pretty smooth. Not that you'd expect rotgut at the Beuerlein manor. You hand the bottle to Jenny. She closes her eyes and scrunches her face like she's expecting an explosion, then quickly tilts the bottle above her head and takes a gulp. "Ellghh!" Jenny's face stays scrunched as she recovers from the burn. "That's terrible!" "The first sip is always the worst," you say. As soon as the words leave your lips, you realize your mistake. Jenny eyes you suspiciously. "I thought you'd never had tequila before." As possible responses churn in your head like bingo balls in a hopper, she takes another hit and grimaces. "But you're right." She hands the tequila back to you. You smile and shake your head as you take another sip. "You're quite a girl, Jenny Petersen." "You better believe it." Jenny's eyes gleam. "Now quit hogging the bottle." [[Pass it back]].

You find Jenny reclined back, propped off the mattress with her elbows as her legs dangle off the bed's edge at the knee. Her toned calves taper down to a well-pedicured pair of bare feet. Her trendy pumps lie askew on the floor beneath them. "Feed me," Jenny says in a breathy whisper. [[What are you waiting for? Feed her!|feed her II]]

(set: $hasKey to false) You feed Jenny like a baby bird, dropping bits of brownie in her mouth as she sits on the edge of the bed with her head tilted back. A chunk falls into her lap and you grab it instinctively, not even thinking about how close your hand is to her crotch. You pull it away quickly. "Oops! Sorry." "You better be!' Jenny grasps your hand and guides it towards her lips. "That's mine!" She gobbles the bite from between your thumb and forefinger and then kisses away the gooey residue staining each of them. Your erection is so strong you're relieved that your low-rise jeans were in the hamper that night. With each brownie, the crest of Jenny's belly peeks further out beneath her breasts like a full moon emerging behind mountains. You wonder how far you can get it to stick-out before either Jenny's appetite flags or the brownie supply dries. As you reach the final few, it rounds several inches beyond her Double D's. That old diet adage, 'A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,' pops into your head. You hope it's true. With one remaining, Jenny holds up her hand. "That's it, I'm done." How do you respond? A.) "[[But you're so close]]!" B.) "[[Not yet...Piggy]]!"

Jenny's eyes widen and her head pulls back, causing a delicious double-chin to form. You expect the hammer to fall, but instead she says something unexpected. "More." "You're such a good little piggy." You push a giant chunk into Jenny's gaping maw. "And if you keep eating like this you'll grow into a great big piggy." "Mmmm," Jenny chews her way through to gooey treat. "I wanna be a big piggy." "Are you sure?" You drop another hunk into her mouth. "What about cheerleading?" "Fuck 'em," Jenny says with her mouth full. "What about volleyball? You'll be too fat to jump above the net." "I hate jumping." Jenny snaps the final bite from your fingers like a gator being fed a chicken. "What about guys? Dudes don't date porkers." Jenny stops chewing. Her face is a chocolate-covered mixture of panic and thrill. "I'm too fat to date?" "Not yet, but if this keeps growing..." You grab Jenny's belly as it hangs over the waistband of her skirt and ply it between your fingers. "And these Grandma wings keep growing..." You pinch the fat along the back of her arm. "And your thighs keep spreading..." You squeeze between Jenny's meaty thighs. You're up far enough to feel the warmth of her pussy. "Then I'd be too fat to date?" "You won't even get asked to prom." "MMMMMMM!" Jenny locks her legs around your waist and pulls you on top of her as she falls back onto the mattress. She's still plenty strong. As she tugs your shirt over your head like an angry hockey player, you undo the button fly of your jeans. Her skirt won't budge, however. You stand up beside the bed--dropping your own pants to your ankles--and pull it down an inch at a time. Jenny pushes her plumping posterior off the mattress to give you some slack, but struggles to hold a bridge with the fresh pounds parked on her paunch. Between your grunts, Jenny's moans, and the incessant squeak of the bed, anyone listening at the door would assume you were already in the throes of passion. You once negotiated an obstacle course in driver's ed, but it had nothing on Jenny's speed bump booty and dangerously curving hips. At last, her platinum pubic patch emerges like a light at the end of the tunnel...or a tunnel at the end of your night...either way, you drop Jenny's skirt to the floor and fall between her legs like the head-first slide into home that it is. Maybe with another 100 pounds or so, you'd have trouble finding Jenny's sweet spot, but tonight you glide in like a toboggan on a slip-n-slide. Jenny is, indeed, a well-oiled machine. Your initial thrust makes her gasp and bite her lip, but when your follow-up plunges prove tentative, she wraps her legs around you and forces you inside with a power that makes you grunt. At first, you're worried about coming too soon, but the heavy lubrication and easy glide stems your climax and soon you're relishing the ride. Jenny seems to be too. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is frozen in a half-open grimace. You concentrate on keeping the rhythm, using your arms as leverage against the bed to punctuate your penetration. As you both approach climax, Jenny's hips and ass jiggle and twitch spasmodically. Her legs lock around you like a seatbelt, preventing her passionate throes from bouncing you off both body and bed. You feel like a cowboy breaking an untamed mare...and wonder how the ride will change as Jenny transitions from bucking bronco to bloated bovine. "Yes, oh God, yes!" Jenny screams and releases her leg-lock as you explode inside her. As your member finishes throbbing deep within, you collapse in exhaustion atop her well-padded torso. Beads of sweat dot Jenny's brow and upper lip. You kiss both, relishing her taste like the salt on the rim of a margarita. Jenny's turns her face towards the wall. You wait for a moment, but she doesn't turn back. You dismount her and roll onto your back next to her. "Wow." [[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door|coitus interruptus]]!

Another knock--louder this time. "Uh, Jenny, are you in there?" It's Brock Beuerlein, the party's host. Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. Brock continues talking through the door. "Um, my parents got home early." Then comes another voice. A woman's voice you recognize. It's Mrs. Beuerlein. "Jenny, dear, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we're going to need you...and whomever else is in there with you...to leave." Jenny's jaw goes slack. You both spring from the bed and gather up your scattered clothes, frantically trading socks and underwear. You laugh--you're still a bit buzzed and the predicament is kind of funny--but stop when you realize Jenny is mortified. Tears fill her eyes as she struggles futiley to zip her skirt. Giving up, Jenny exits into the hall without a word, head down and arms crossed in a vain attempt to hide her embarrassment and partial nudity. The room is a disaster--crumbs are everywhere and the bed is a crumpled mess of soiled sheets--but you don't think it's wise to stick around and clean. So you grab Jenny's empty brownie platter and hurry into the hall, happy that Mr. Beuerlein, who has already summoned Brock into his study for a little chat, isn't part of your walk of shame. Outside, you see Jenny getting into her lonely Audi parked by itself far down the (now) empty street. It's like she parked far away to remain inconspicuous following your liaison. Though you suspect the lengthy late-night trek to her automobile, dressed as she is and after what just happened, made her feel especially conspicuous. You race after her holding the platter above your head. "Hey, Jenny can I get a--" The car door slams, the engine revs, and it speeds away. "Ride?" You glance up and down the street. It appears like you were the last partygoer to leave and, having shot your wad on alcohol, you don't have any money for a ride home. You waffle between walking home or waking your folks, ultimately deciding on the latter. They'll be pissed, but at least it's still within spitting distance of your curfew. If you take the frigid five mile walk you won't be home for another hour or two, and that would land you firmly in "grounded" territory. And after what happened tonight, you definitely don't want to be grounded for the next month. [[Call your folks|Ending #24]].

You get a lecture on the ride home, but it's a small price to pay for the excellent evening you've experienced. Monday morning you grab Jenny's platter and head to school with a big grin. You plan to keep it until after lunch--you don't want to seem too anxious to see her--and then surprise her with it at her locker. You imagine she'll snatch it from you quickly, slightly embarrassed, but will appreciate that you remembered it and washed it. And then you'll share a knowing smile and laugh at the weekend's misadventures. As planned, you find Jenny at her locker right after lunch. She's dressed demurely in gray sweats and a baggy purple sweater, wears no make-up, and her hair is pinned into a single pigtail. Somehow she's still gorgeous. "Hi." "Oh...Hi!" She's so surprised to see you she almost drops her books. "I rescued this for you." You hold the glass platter up. She stares at it like it's radioactive. "Don't worry, I washed it. I was tempted to make you a fresh batch of brownies, but I'm pretty sure they'd be inedible." "Keep it." Jenny slams her locker door and walks away from you down the hall. "But you're the baker. It's yours." Jenny marches briskly back to you. She leans over your shoulder and for a second you think she might kiss your cheek, but instead she whispers tersely in your ear: "Get that fucking thing out of here, or I'm going to smash it right here in the hall." Then she turns and walks away, leaving you holding the heavy platter and an even heavier heart. And that's the end of you and Jenny. You don't believe it at first. You expect she'll come around and make yourself available for her to do so. You pass by her locker frequently, hang-out near where her car is parked, and sit as close as you can to her at lunch. Nevertheless, she ignores you. After a couple weeks, you realize it's not just you she's ignoring--she's ignoring everybody. And each week as her lunchtime entourage dwindles, her lunches seem to grow. With fewer people to converse with, she devotes more and more time to munching. And not the healthy fare she typically brings from home--instead she grazes on cafeteria burgers, fries, pizza, and cookies. Often multiple servings. Unsurprisingly, it quickly shows on her figure. Jenny's baggy winter attire rapidly fills-in, and what hung loose against her curves in November clutches them tightly come December and is bursting at the seams by January. What is surprising--given your proclivities--is that you find no enjoyment in it. You're in the minority, however. The rest of the student body has a field day with her gain. (Tad Fifer tells anyone who'll listen how lucky he is he dumped Jenny before she "porked-out.") General reactions range from feigned concern to overt contempt, but regardless Jenny's weight troubles are the talk of the school. At least for a while. It's fun to gossip about a hot girl ruining her figure, but by Spring Jenny's figure was ruined in most people's eyes. You can still see the beauty buried beneath the blubber, however. Despite plumping to well over 200 pounds, Jenny's enviable bone structure and accommodating hourglass figure hold her weight well. If she got dolled-up you're certain she could still put most of the hags at school to shame. Unfortunately, there's no sign of that happening. Jenny's frumpy wardrobe, vampirish complexion, and lifeless hair scream 'fat girl' and Jenny seems perfectly fine with it. Eventually, you carry on. You graduate, go to college, get a job, and take a wife. And though you try to avoid thinking of Jenny--it's too painful on a number of levels--every now and again you urge your wife to bake brownies and put them on the beautiful glass platter no one can remember receiving. THE END

You wave the sole survivor in front of Jenny's chocolate-stained face. "And this one is wafer thin." Jenny's hands disappear beneath the crest of her belly. It jiggles for a second, then lurches forward into her lap as the denim flaps of her skirt open up. The avalanche of Jenny's paunch burries the zippered flaps beneath its protuberance until only the tips are visible--like pointy ears on a bald head. Jenny leans back and looks at you glassy-eyed. "Ready as I'll ever be." She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and opens her mouth wide. You drop the brownie in her mouth all at once, knowing that the dainty approach is over and she'd be unlikely to finish a bite at a time. "Hmmpggh!" Jenny sits up and covers her mouth with her hand. She shoots you a dirty look, but any dirty words that might have followed are swallowed along with 150 calories of chocolatey goodness. Mission accomplished, Jenny falls back onto the bed. Her breathing is shallow, weighted by the bowling ball like mass rounding skyward from her stomach. "Jesus!" Jenny lifts her head off the mattress, causing a delicate double-chin to appear beneath her jawline. "Is that my fuckin' belly?" You lay down next to her. Between Jenny's labored pursed-lipped breathing and the pregnant swell of her belly you feel like you're in a lamaze class with her. Maybe someday. [[Kiss her|kiss on bed III]]. [[Rub her belly]]. [[Comment on how fat she's getting|Comment on how fat she's getting II]].

Your kissing transitions from PG to PG-13 in a hurry. First, Jenny parts her lips. No tongue at first, just a little taste-test. You reciprocate. Jenny has a full-bodied flavor with a chocolatey aftertaste and a bouquet of strawberry lip gloss. Four stars! Seconds later, your mouths are open and your tongues are tangoing. You scooch close and wrap your arm around Jenny's waist, while she vigorously rubs your back like she's trying to start a fire. You make-out passionately, but whenever you fondle Jenny's newfound flab--the roll around her waist, the folds bunched by her bra, or the crease beneath her shoulder--she goes rigid. It's clear she isn't keen on the adipose armies invading her lush landscape, or your saluting of them. What do you do? [[Head for second base]]. [[Ask Jenny what's wrong|So what's the deal with you and Tad]]? [[Make it clear the extra pounds don't bother you|extra pounds]].

Jenny shakes her head and then lays back on the bed. "Let's try it from here this time." [[Pucker up|second kiss]]!

Jenny's eyes widen. "You mean it?" "I would love to be your chaperone for the evening." You stand and offer her your arm. "Especially, if it makes that no-necked lughead jealous." Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" [[Head back to the party arm-in-arm|Jealous Tad II]].

"Do you really want to know?" Jenny says in a breathy whisper. No, what you really want is to push her back on the bed and ravage her, but you’re pretty sure now's not the time. You like her. You don’t want to be a dick. You suspect she’s had to deal with her share. A.) [[Definitely|Tad rape]]. B.) [[I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable|Ending #18]].

You pull your lips from Jenny's. "Look," you say. "I kind of like...curvier girls." Jenny jerks her head back, causing a delectable little double-chin to form. "Is that what I am?" "No!" Your voice is louder--and a few octaves higher--than intended. "I just mean...curves don't bother me." Jenny breaks from your embrace. "I'm so glad my fat doesn't offend you." Then she stands and heads for the door. This isn't working out the way it was in your head. "Jenny, wait!" She doesn't stop. In desperation you blurt-- "You're not fat, but I wouldn't care if you were." Then you swallow hard. "In fact, I'd probably like it." You can't believe you said what you said to the person you just said it to. Jenny stands frozen in the doorway with a look of confused pity on her face. You hang your head in shame, anticipating the slam of the door. Instead, you hear the click-clack of Jenny's pumps and feel her weight on the matress beside you. Her touch on your back raises your head. "I appreciate the honesty," she says. Her fingers trace a Z-like pattern between your shoulders. It's nice. "I like when people shoot straight. Most of the people in my life don't." The redness in your cheeks fades and you manage a sly smile. "Well, my grandmother always said honesty was the best policy." Jenny smiles. "Well, grandma was right." Then her mood turns serious. "That's why I want to be honest with you. I like you. And I like that you're fine with my...weight. But I'm not sure that I'm fine with it." You nod. "I understand." "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot of other issues I'm dealing with right now." You may not be the Mensa member Jenny is, but you can still read a sign. "Look, I won't pretend to know all you're going through," you say. "But I want you to know that I care. And I'll be there if you ever need help dealing with anything." "I believe you." Jenny leans in and gives you a quick kiss. It's nice, but it has a finality to it that's palpable. A.) "[[So tell me about Jenny Petersen]]." B.) "[[Want to re-join the party|rejoin the party]]?" C.) "[[Maybe it would help to talk about it?|So what's the deal with you and Tad]]"

Strangely, Jenny seems less inhibited once you focus your hands on her heavy hangers. It may be over-the-clothes action, but copping a feel of Jenny's heavenly hooters immediately becomes A, B, C, and DD on your list of favorite sexual experiences. As you cup her left breast in your palm, you work your thumb in a clockwise motion across the ridge of tender flesh overflowing the fabric of her lace bra. Although her boobs appear firm and perky with the help of Victoria's Secret, the softness of the spillage suggests it's a secret that won't be kept for long. In fact, you expect they've already begun to shift southward outside their constricted confines. You hope to get the chance to see (and feel) first-hand! What's next? [[Release the mounds! (Undo the button's of Jenny's blouse.)|rejected]] [[Pet Jenny's plush posterior]]. [[Unbutton her skirt|rejected]].

You run your hand over Jenny's heinie. It's a little disappointing. Her buns are packed tight against against the confines of her denim skirt, but the rough and unyielding nature of the fabric reveals little of their curvy contours. It's like rubbing the surface of a trampoline. You'll have to remedy the situation! [[Unbutton her skirt|rejected]]. [[Unbotton her blouse|rejected]]. [[Approach from below]].

You rest your hand on Jenny's thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. You're amazed how warm it is. While your extremities turn icy come cold weather, Jenny seems to radiate thermal energy. As you kiss, you inch your way beneath her skirt. You're just getting to the meaty part when Jenny pushes your hand back down the slope of her leg. She keeps kissing you, however. What do you do? [[Grandma always said "If at first you don't succeed..."|rejected]]

Jenny pushes your hand away. "Easy, fella." "Sorry," you lie. "Not sure what came over me there." "It's alright." She leans forward and kisses you softly. "Part of me didn't want to stop you." You wish that part was growing like the rest of her. What do you say? A.) "[[So tell me about Jenny Petersen]]." B.) "[[Want to re-join the party|rejoin the party]]?" { C.) (if: $hasKey)[ [["Want to grab a beer?"|Ending #11]]] (else:)[ [["Want to grab a beer?"|get beer II]]] }

"Sure," Jenny says. "As long as you're my chaperone." You stand and offer her your arm. "Ready, M'lady?" Jenny stands and takes it. "Thank you kind sir!" You spend the next two hours dutifully hanging out with Jenny and providing PG-13 rated public displays of affection. You hold her hand, drape an arm around her shoulder, and even kiss her neck. You try not to overdo it, but Jenny makes it hard (literally). The stunned reactions you get from the crowd provide an added benefit. In between you laugh about old times in grade school, discuss classic rock (she's a huge fan of the Beatles and Queen), and poke fun at a gaggle of girls cloistered together in the corner staring at their phones. Jenny still gets fidgety, however, when you get anywhere near the prodigious poundage she's procured. During a slow dance, your hands settle on the love-handles at her sides and she immediately grabs them and guides them to her back where she positions them along the sharp slope of her posterior. You find it odd she would rather have you touch her ass than her waist, but you really don't care. It's a win-win. For the rest of the party you and Jenny talk, dance, and flirt. You have a great time, but eventually the crowd thins and it's time to go home. [[Walk her to her car|Ending #21]]

"Where to begin?" Jenny says. "Do you want the abridged version or the Director's Cut?" "Director's Cut," you answer. "Those are always unrated." Your conversation easily transitions from one topic to another. You discover Jenny wanted to be a ballet dancer. She even studied for a month at a fancy French academy after 8th grade. Of course, the thought of Jenny rocking a Tutu today is pretty comical, but she's a good sport about it. When you chuckle a little at the visual, Jenny smiles and says, "I know, right?" She also plays classical piano, but prefers classic rock--big Queen fan--and even enjoys fishing! (Imagining Jenny in a bass boat is almost as humorous as imagining her in a leotard...though not nearly as arousing.) You find it particularly refreshing that she asks alot of questions about you. You're pretty boring by comparison, but Jenny doesn't seem to think so. In fact, you're surprised how much she already knows about you. You may not have been more than a blip on her radar, but at least you were on the screen. Long before you're ready, the clock ticks towards curfew and the din downstairs fades. "I better go," Jenny says after checking the time on her phone. About 20 texts flood her screen, but she closes out without reading them. You frown. "Check-out isn't until one." Jenny's weary eyes widen. "Just enough time to raid the mini-bar!" "I'm game if you are." You look around. "It's gotta be around here somewhere." Jenny leans in and give you a final kiss. "Thanks for making tonight fun." Then she stands. "Walk me to my car?" The last thing you want to do is leave the bed...but you do. "Of course." Before you go, Jenny checks on the remaining guests. A couple are sleeping it off on the couch and a few other drunks have rides coming, but no one needs a designated driver. You say good-bye to the cognizant ones and step-out into the cold. [[Walk Jenny to her car]].

As Jenny drives, you watch as lush neighborhoods transition to shoddy appartments, and fashionable boutiques turn to liquor stores, pawn shops and bail bondsmen. About the time you're getting nervous for your safety, Jenny turns into a vacant parking lot and kills the engine. "We're here." "Where's here?" You say. You don't recognize the part of town you're in and, by the homeless man pushing the shopping cart behind you, can't imagine it's one of Jenny's regular haunts. [[Jenny points at something through the windshield]].

Jenny glares at you a few seconds longer than someone driving should. Street lights flashing by give her porcelain features an ethereal glow that's heavenly...but the gleam in her eyes is 100% devilish. "Trust me." As Jenny drives, you watch as lush neighborhoods transition to shoddy appartments, and fashionable boutiques turn to liquor stores, pawn shops and bail bondsmen. About the time you're getting nervous for your own safety, Jenny turns into a vacant parking lot and kills the engine. "We're here." "Where's here?" You say. You don't recognize the part of town you're in and, by the homeless man pushing the shopping cart behind you, can't imagine it's one of Jenny's regular haunts. [[Jenny points at something through the windshield]].

Jenny smirks. "I might've guessed by the thirty big ones in your pocket." As Jenny drves, you watch as lush neighborhoods transition to shoddy appartments, and fashionable boutiques turn to liquor stores, pawn shops, and bail bondsmen. About the time you're getting seriously concerned for your safety, Jenny turns into a vacant parking lot and kills the engine. "We're here." "Where's here?" You say. You don't recognize the part of town you're in and, by the homeless man pushing the shopping cart behind you, can't imagine it's one of Jenny's regular haunts. [[Jenny points at something through the windshield]].

A neon sign hangs adjacent to the lot: //Denny's 24 Hour Service// "I'm hungry as hell." Jenny notices the incredulous look on your face. "You really didn't think a few brownies would tide me over, did you?" With that, she exits the vehicle and heads for the door. You hustle after her. A cowbell strung from the ceiling announces your arrival and you find a booth near the back. A hefty middle-aged woman in a yellow apron appears from the kitchen, hands you two grease-splattered menus, then disappears again. "Welcome to our first date!" Jenny says with a smile. You glance around the nearly empty dive. "Didn't want to be seen with me?" Jenny looks down at a menu. "Didn't want to be seen at all." She quickly scours it, then hands it to you. "Go ahead and order for me. Keep in mind, I'm hungry--" A look of discomfort washes across her face as she undoes the snap of her skirt. "And you only have $30 bucks." What do you order? A.) [[The Grandslam Slugger Breakfast with biscuits and gravy]]. B.) [[A Double Slamburger with French fries and a strawberry shake]]. C.) [[A side salad]].

While Jenny's busy ranting, you pour the extra beer into her cup whenever it approaches empty. You only fill it an inch or two at a time, and never above half, so as to not arise suspicion. Even so, it isn't long before it's completely vanished into Jenny's magical bottomless cup. And the more Jenny drinks, the more tales she tells. Apparently, she has quite a bit to get off her sizable chest. You learn Jenny was demoted as cheer captain last week when her coach deemed her "out of shape." Since then she's been relegated to the back of the line and the base of the pyramid. You also discover that she and Tad Fifer broke up a month back under circumstances she's reticent to explain. She makes it clear she's no longer a fan, however. "Fuck 'em," you say after she finishes a lengthy vent session. "You said it, Brother!" Jenny hoists her cup over her head. "Fuck 'em!" "Ok, I think you've had enough." You hold out your hand. You're buzzed, but Jenny has blown passed buzzed into blitzed. Jenny turns the cup upside down. It's empty except for a couple stray drops that splatter to the floor. "Whoopsie," she says, shaking it like a rattle before dropping it. "I guess I was thirsty. Jenny leans forward and touches your knee as if she's about to tell you a secret. A thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Now I'm hungry," she whispers. You lean in close enough that you can taste her briny breath. "I know what you're hungry for." "Brownies!" Jenny holds her arms over her head like she's signaling a touchdown. That's not what you expected. How do you respond? A.) [[Are you sure I can't interest you in something more...substantial?]] B.) [[Aren't you worried about getting fat?]] C.) [[One brownie platter coming up.|get brownies]]

While Jenny's busy ranting, you take the empty cup from her and replace it with the full one. She never stops talking or even acknowledges it, except to take a giant swig when some sloshes on her hand. Proud of yourself, you sit back and enjoy the show. The more Jenny drinks, the more tales she tells. Apparently, she has quite a bit to get off her sizable chest. You learn Jenny was demoted as cheer captain last week when her coach deemed her "out of shape." Since then she's been relegated to the back of the line and the base of the pyramid. You also discover that she and Tad Fifer broke up a month back under circumstances she's reticent to explain. She makes it clear she's no longer a fan, however. "Fuck 'em," you say after she finishes her lengthy vent session. "You said it, Brother!" Jenny hoists her cup over her head. "Fuck 'em!" "Ok, I think you've had enough." You hold out your hand. You're buzzed, but Jenny has blown passed buzzed into blitzed. Jenny turns the cup upside down. It's empty except for a few stray drops that splatter to the floor. "Whoopsie," she says, shaking it like a rattle before dropping it. "I guess I was thirsty." Then Jenny leans forward and touches your knee as if she's about to tell you a secret. A thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Now I'm hungry," she whispers. You lean in close enough that you can taste her briny breath. "I think I know what you're hungry for." "Brownies!" Jenny holds her arms over her head like she's signaling a touchdown. That's not what you expected. How do you respond? A.) [[Are you sure I can't interest you in something more...substantial?]] B.) [[Aren't you worried about getting fat?]] C.) [[One brownie platter coming up.|get brownies]]

A few have gone missing since you left, but a good 8-9 still remain. You consider dumping them into a napkin for transport, but figure that would be just as conspicuous as what you ultimately do-- Grab the whole platter and beeline it upstairs. Most guests are too wrapped-up in who they're hanging with or hitting on to notice what you're up to. You get a few 'WTF' glances and Ben Tramer, who saw you go upstairs with Jenny earlier, shouts as you ascend: "Watcha tryin' do do, earn a few 'brownie points'?" But no obstacles stand in your way. As you reach the bedroom with your treasure, you wonder what effects your booty will have on Jenny's. [[Time to find out|enter with brownies II]]!

(set: $hasKey to false) You feed Jenny like a baby bird, dropping bits of brownie in her mouth as she sits on the edge of the bed with her head tilted back. A chunk falls into her lap and you grab it instinctively, not even thinking about how close your hand is to her crotch. You pull it away quickly. "Oops! Sorry." "You better be!' Jenny grasps your hand and guides it towards her lips. "That's mine!" She gobbles the bite from between your thumb and forefinger and then kisses away the gooey residue staining each of them. Your erection is so strong you're relieved that your low-rise jeans were in the hamper that night. With each brownie, the crest of Jenny's belly peeks further out beneath her breasts like a full moon emerging behind mountains. You wonder how far you can get it to stick-out before either Jenny's appetite flags or the brownie supply dries. As you reach the final few, it rounds several inches beyond her Double D's. That old diet adage, 'A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,' pops into your head. You hope it's true. With one remaining, Jenny holds up her hand. "That's it, I'm done." How do you respond? A.) [["But you're so close|but you're so close II]]!" B.) [[Let her off the hook]].

You press your hand along the side of her stomach. It's warm and firm. "Ooh!" Jenny reacts to the cool touch of your hand, but lays her head back on the mattress as you begin a gentle clock-wise massage. "That feels good." You circle the circumferance of her tummy like a planet orbiting a belly-button star at the center of an expanding galaxy. As your hand warms, you add a bit more pressure, gradually working your way up the slope of her stomach with each pass. Eventually, you reach its crest and arrive at Jenny's dainty belly button, which looks out of place against the overfed gut it rests atop. You circle it a like a drain a few times then slowly trace it's inside rim with your index finger. Finally, you lean in and give it a gentle kiss, surprised how warm it is on your lips. You look to Jenny. She's been so silent you fear she might be asleep. Instead, you're surprised to find her staring at you with an odd look on her face. It's almost like that of an inquisitive child. She reaches out and rubs your arm. You have a feeling she'll be receptive to whatever you do next. A.) [[Kiss her|kiss on bed]]. B.) [[Move your massage lower|Move your massage lower II]]. C.) [[Mention how fat she's getting|Ending #25]].

You gently pat the crest of Jenny's bare belly. "You are getting nice and fat." Jenny's eyes widen. "I'm getting WHAT?" You suddenly wish you could erase the last 10 seconds, but that power eludes you. Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. "What the actual fuck? You stuff me with brownies and then tell me how fat I'm getting?" "Jenny, I'm not being critical. I like it!" She stands, towering over you. "What are you, some sort of freak?" As you stutter and stammer, Jenny struggles to zip-up her skirt. You know she won't be able to get it zipped again anytime soon. Maybe ever. "Shit!" Jenny gives up and relaxes her belly. It surges forward, rounding into a perfect pot and pushing her skirt's flaps even lower. Jenny places a hand on its crest, lowers her head, and begins to sob. "What am I going to do?" You touch Jenny's arm and give it a gentle rub. "Look, Jenny, let me go grab your jacket. Where'd you put it? On the couch?" You're halfway out the door when Jenny stops you. "No!" Jenny stomps over to you. Her eyes are red and puffy, and tears have unsettled her makeup. "I don't want you to do anything for me!" She pushes past you into the hall, fighting with her skirt on the way to the stairs. You call to her as she descends. "Jenny, your platter!" "Keep it!" And she's gone. You turn back into the room. It's a disaster--crumbs are everywhere and the bed is a crumpled mess of soiled sheets. You spend the rest of the night cleaning up your mess. But are never able to clean-up the mess with Jenny. THE END

As Jenny rubs your arm, you continue your massage. You notice her stomach is starting to soften as the dozen or so brownies work their way through her system. (Although its dough-like pliability suggests a couple may have decided to take up residence.) You cup your hand and move it back and forth down the slope of her lower-abdomen like a slalom skier, applying gentle pressure against her silky smooth skin as you go. Soon, you're rubbing against the elastic waistband of her fiery red panties. You press against her taught flesh and manuever your fingers beneath its fabric. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a flaxen tuft rising like a forest at the base of a sloping hill. It's clear Jenny's a natural blonde...It's also pretty clear she wasn't expecting visitors. Her pubic mound is mildly coarse, but not unpleasant to touch. It feels a little like the tail of a deer you once felt at a nature exhibit. You smile, imagining Jenny as Bambi with you about to Thumper. Jenny's wispy forest gives way to wetlands as you push your fingers deeper beneath the red canopy of her panties. She lets out a soft moan as you probe the damp flesh. Strangely, you're not at all nervous. Part of it is the cups of courage you downed earlier (along with years of watching porn), but mostly it's Jenny herself. You'd think driving a Ferrari your first time behind the wheel would be nerve-wracking, but she's given you the keys and is responding willingly. As you run your middle finger along the length of her slit, you diddle her clit with your thumb. Pushing your finger inside her, Jenny's legs kick involuntarily. When a second finger joins the first Jenny rocks back and forth on the bed, her upper body propped on her elbows and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Eyes closed, mouth open. Fat rolls bunch around her waist as her body convulses. The deeper you probe, the deeper the creases across her abdomen. You lean in and kiss her swollen belly like a mother might kiss a child's injured finger. You're not sure which is greater, your desire to mount Jenny or your desire to watch this perfect 10 (maybe a 9 now) fatten herself into oblivion. As Jenny approaches climax, you better make a decision. A.) [[Continue massaging her]]. B.) [[Comment on how fat she's getting|Ending #22]]. C.) [[Forget brownies! It's time to stuff Jenny properly|Remove her panties II]]!

You wave the sole survivor in front of Jenny's chocolate-stained face. "And this one is wafer thin." Jenny's hands disappear beneath the crest of her belly. It jiggles for a second, then lurches forward into her lap as the denim flaps of her skirt open up. The avalanche of Jenny's paunch burries the zippered flaps beneath its protuberance until only the tips are visible--like pointy ears on a bald head. Jenny leans back and looks at you with steely-eyed determination. "Let's do this." She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and opens her mouth wide. You drop the brownie in her mouth all at once, knowing that the dainty approach is over and she'd be unlikely to finish a bite at a time. "Hmmpggh!" Jenny sits up and covers her mouth with her hand. She shoots you a dirty look, but any dirty words that might have followed are swallowed along with 150 more calories of chocolatey goodness. Mission accomplished, Jenny falls back onto the bed. Her breathing is shallow, weighted by the bowling ball like mass rounding skyward from her stomach. Oh my god! Jenny lifts her head off the mattress, causing a delicate double-chin to appear beneath her jawline. "I can see my belly over my boobs!" You lay down next to her. Between Jenny's labored pursed-lipped breathing and the pregnant swell of her belly you feel like you're in a lamaze class with her. Maybe someday. [[Kiss her|kiss on bed II]]. [[Rub her belly|Rub her belly III]]. [[Comment on how fat she's getting|getting fat II]].

You press your hand along the side of her stomach. It's warm and firm. "Ooh!" Jenny reacts to the cool touch of your hand, but lays her head back on the mattress as you begin a gentle clock-wise massage. "That feels good." You circle the circumferance of her tummy like a planet orbiting a belly-button star at the center of an expanding galaxy. As your hand warms, you add a bit more pressure, gradually working your way up the slope of her stomach with each pass. Eventually, you reach its crest and arrive at Jenny's dainty belly button, which looks out of place against the overfed gut it rests atop. You circle it a like a drain a few times then slowly trace it's inside rim with your index finger. Finally, you lean in and give it a gentle kiss, surprised how warm it is on your lips. You look to Jenny. She's been so silent you fear she might be asleep. Instead, you're surprised to find her staring at you with an odd look on her face. It's almost like that of an inquisitive child. She reaches out and rubs your arm. You have a feeling she'll be receptive to whatever you do next. [[Kiss her|kiss on bed II]]. [[Move your massage lower|Move your massage lower III]]. [[Mention how fat she's getting]].

Damn, you're getting fat. Jenny stops gyrating and her eyes flick open. Frozen with her knees high above her naked potbelly, she looks like she's about to give birth. You fear you've made a colossal mistake, but there's no turning back now. Continuing the coital message with your right hand, you rub the excess flesh around Jenny's abdomen with your left. "I remember when your abs were hard--now you have abs of lard." "Mmmmm," Jenny closes her eyes again and bites her bottom lip. "You're turning into quite the little piggy, aren't you?" You push your hand under her blouse and fondle the flesh oozing from her overtaxed bra. "Or maybe a cow by the size of these udders." Jenny's body convulses harder than ever. "Oh, God!" You keep rubbing and squeezing Jenny's right breast. It squishes like putty in you hands (except for her rock-hard nipple which pokes your palm through the fabric). "Remember how pert and perky these were? Now they probably point to the ground like Grandma's" "Oh, God, Fuck me!" Jenny pushes down the edges of her skirt. Fortunately, it's already unzipped and below her belly. Still, it's slower going than either party desires. "Please fuck me!" As Jenny struggles with her skirt you remove your sticky fingers and undo the fly of your jeans. You stand up beside the bed--dropping your pants to your ankles--and assist Jenny in yanking her skirt and panties down an inch at a time. At last, her golden pubic patch emerges like a light at the end of the tunnel...or a tunnel at the end of your night...either way, you drop Jenny's skirt to the floor and fall between her legs like the head-first slide into home that it is.

As Jenny rubs your arm, you continue your massage. You notice her stomach is starting to soften as the dozen or so brownies work their way through her system. (Although its dough-like pliability suggests a couple may have decided to take up residence.) You cup your hand and move it back and forth down the slope of her lower-abdomen like a slalom skier, applying gentle pressure against her silky smooth skin as you go. Soon, you're rubbing against the elastic waistband of her fiery red panties. You press against her taught flesh and manuever your fingers beneath its fabric. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a flaxen tuft rising like a forest at the base of a sloping hill. It's clear Jenny's a natural blonde...It's also pretty clear she wasn't expecting visitors. Her pubic mound is mildly coarse, but not unpleasant to touch. It feels a little like the tail of a deer you once felt at a nature exhibit. You smile, imagining Jenny as Bambi with you about to Thumper. Jenny's wispy forest gives way to wetlands as you push your fingers deeper beneath the red canopy of her panties. She lets out a soft moan as you probe the damp flesh around her vagina. Strangely, you're not at all nervous. Part of it is the cups of courage you downed earlier (along with years of watching porn), but mostly it's Jenny herself. You'd think driving a Ferrari your first time behind the wheel would be nerve-wracking, but she's given you the keys and is responding willingly. As you run your middle finger along the length of her slit, you diddle her clit with your thumb. Pushing your finger inside her, Jenny's legs kick involuntarily. When a second finger joins the first Jenny rocks back and forth on the bed, her upper body propped on her elbows and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Eyes closed, mouth open. Fat rolls bunch around her waist as her body convulses. The deeper you probe, the deeper the creases across her abdomen. You lean in and kiss her swollen belly like a mother might kiss a child's injured finger. You're not sure which is greater, your desire to mount Jenny or your desire to watch this perfect 10 (maybe a 9 now) fatten herself into oblivion. As Jenny approaches climax, you better make a decision. A.) [[Continue massaging her]]. B.) [[Comment on how fat she's getting]]. C.) [[Forget brownies! It's time to stuff Jenny properly|Remove her panties]]!

"Damn, you're getting fat." Jenny stops gyrating and her eyes flick open. Frozen with her knees high above her naked potbelly, she looks like she's about to give birth. You fear you've made a colossal mistake, but there's no turning back now. Continuing the coital message with your right hand, you rub the excess flesh around Jenny's abdomen with your left. "I remember when your abs were hard--now you have abs of lard." "Mmmmm," Jenny closes her eyes again and bites her bottom lip. "You're turning into quite the little piggy, aren't you?" You push your hand under her blouse and fondle the flesh oozing from her overtaxed bra. "Or maybe a cow by the size of these udders." Jenny's body convulses harder than ever. "Oh, God!" You keep rubbing and squeezing Jenny's right breast. It squishes like putty in you hands (except for her rock-hard nipple which pokes your palm through the fabric). "Remember how pert and perky these were? Now they probably point to the ground like Grandma's" "Oh, God, Fuck me!" Jenny pushes down the edges of her skirt. Fortunately, it's already unzipped and below her belly. Still, it's slower going than either party desires. "Please fuck me!" As Jenny struggles with her skirt you remove your sticky fingers and undo the fly of your jeans. You stand up beside the bed--dropping your pants to your ankles--and assist Jenny in yanking her skirt and panties down an inch at a time. At last, her golden pubic patch emerges like a light at the end of the tunnel...or a tunnel at the end of your night...either way, you drop Jenny's skirt to the floor and fall between her legs like the head-first slide into home that it is. Maybe with another 100 pounds or so, you'd have trouble finding Jenny's sweet spot, but tonight you glide in like a toboggan on a slip-n-slide. Jenny is, indeed, a well-oiled machine. Your initial thrust makes her gasp and bite her lip, but when your follow-up plunges prove tentative, she wraps her legs around you and forces you inside with a power that makes you grunt. At first, you're worried about coming too soon, but the heavy lubrication and easy glide stems your climax and soon you're relishing the ride. Jenny seems to be too. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is frozen in a half-open grimace. You concentrate on keeping the rhythm, using your arms as leverage against the bed to punctuate your penetration. As you both approach climax, Jenny's hips and ass jiggle and twitch spasmodically. Her legs lock around you like a seatbelt, preventing her passionate throes from bouncing you off both body and bed. You feel like a cowboy breaking an untamed mare...and wonder how the ride will change as Jenny transitions from bucking bronco to bloated bovine. "Yes, oh God, yes!" Jenny screams and releases her leg-lock as you explode inside her. As your member finishes throbbing deep within, you collapse in exhaustion atop her well-padded torso. Beads of sweat dot Jenny's brow and upper lip. You kiss both, relishing her taste like the salt on the rim of a margarita. Jenny's turns her face towards the wall. You wait for a moment, but she doesn't turn back. You dismount her and roll onto your back next to her. "Wow." { (if: $hasKey)[A.) [[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door II]]] (else:)[A.) [[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door]]] }

Jenny puts her feet on the bed and bends her knees skyward to ease the pressure on her bloated belly. As she breathes heavily, pained and exhausted, you gently pat its crest. "You are getting nice and fat." "It's all your fault," Jenny says through chocolate-stained lips. "No." You run you cool hand back and forth over the warm protuberence of her stomach. "This is your doing." "I don't wanna get fat," Jenny whines. "Sure you do. You've been eating like a hog for weeks. What did you think would happen?" You follow the slope of Jenny's tummy down her side until your finger finds a crease caused by flesh bunched above the band of her skirt. "Look at this!" You squeeze the meat beneath the crease. "This is where those brownies are headed. Might as well give this skirt to Good Will. Get it to some young hottie who deserves it." "Stop it," Jenny says softly. You run your hand along the underside of Jenny's leg towards her bent knee. "Remeber how strong these were?" In truth, her legs are still pretty smooth and shapely--honed by years of volleyball and cheerleading--but when you give the underside of Jenny's thigh a pat, shockwaves ripple and quiver around its circumferance. "Ooh, flabby!" "Stop it!" She collpses her leg on your hand, trapping it against the matress. You feel the excess flesh dimple slightly against it. "Is that cellulite I feel?" You squeeze her skin as it molds around around your fingers. "Stop!" Jenny raises her knee again and yells in a voice caught between a laugh and a cry. Her actions belie her words, however, as her fingers have found their way between the flaps of her open skirt. You decide to push the envelope. "Little Miss Perfect isn't so perfect anymore, is she?" You rub the excess flesh around Jenny's abdomen with your hand. "I remember when your abs were hard--now you have abs of lard." "Mmmmm," Jenny closes her eyes again and bites her bottom lip. "You're turning into quite the little piggy, aren't you?" You push your hand under her blouse and fondle the flesh oozing from her overtaxed bra. "Or maybe a cow by the size of these udders." Jenny's body convulses harder than ever. "Oh, God!" You keep rubbing and squeezing Jenny's right breast. It squishes like putty in you hands (except for her rock-hard nipple which pokes your palm through the fabric). "Remember how pert and perky these were? Now they probably point to the ground like Grandma's" "Oh, God, Fuck me!" Jenny pushes down the edges of her skirt. Fortunately, it's already unzipped and below her belly. Still, it's slower going than either party desires. "Please, fuck me!" As Jenny struggles with her skirt you and undo belt and fly. You stand up beside the bed--dropping your pants to your ankles--and assist Jenny in yanking her skirt and panties down an inch at a time. At last, her golden pubic patch emerges like a light at the end of the tunnel...or a tunnel at the end of your night...either way, you drop Jenny's skirt to the floor and fall between her legs like the head-first slide into home that it is. Maybe with another 100 pounds or so, you'd have trouble finding Jenny's sweet spot, but tonight you glide in like a toboggan on a slip-n-slide. Jenny is, indeed, a well-oiled machine. Your initial thrust makes her gasp and bite her lip, but when your follow-up plunges prove tentative, she wraps her legs around you and forces you inside with a power that makes you grunt. At first, you're worried about coming too soon, but the heavy lubrication and easy glide stems your climax and soon you're relishing the ride. Jenny seems to be too. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is frozen in a half-open grimace. You concentrate on keeping the rhythm, using your arms as leverage against the bed to punctuate your penetration. As you both approach climax, Jenny's hips and ass jiggle and twitch spasmodically. Her legs lock around you like a seatbelt, preventing her passionate throes from bouncing you off both body and bed. You feel like a cowboy breaking an untamed mare...and wonder how the ride will change as Jenny transitions from bucking bronco to bloated bovine. "Yes, oh God, yes!" Jenny screams and releases her leg-lock as you explode inside her. As your member finishes throbbing deep within, you collapse in exhaustion atop her well-padded torso. Beads of sweat dot Jenny's brow and upper lip. You kiss both, relishing her taste like the salt on the rim of a margarita. Jenny's turns her face towards the wall. You wait for a moment, but she doesn't turn back. You dismount her and roll onto your back next to her. "Wow." [[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door|coitus interruptus]]!

You wave the sole survivor in front of her chocolate-stained face. "And this one is wafer thin." Jenny's hands disappear beneath the crest of her belly. It jiggles for a second, then lurches forward into her lap as the denim flaps of her skirt open up. The avalanche of Jenny's paunch burries the zippered flaps beneath its protuberance until only the tips are visible--like pointy ears on a bald head. Jenny leans back and looks at you with steely-eyed determination. "Let's do this." She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and opens her mouth wide. You drop the entire brownie in her mouth, knowing that the dainty approach is over and she'd never finish a bite at a time. "Hmmpggh!" Jenny sits up and covers her mouth with her hand. She shoots you a dirty look, but any dirty words that might have followed are swallowed along with 150 calories of chocolatey goodness. Mission accomplished, Jenny falls back onto the bed. Her breathing is shallow, weighted by the bowling ball like mass rounding skyward from her stomach. "Oh my god!" Jenny lifts her head off the mattress, causing a delicate double-chin to appear beneath her jawline. "I can see my belly over my boobs!" You lay down next to her. Between Jenny's labored pursed-lipped breathing and the pregnant swell of her belly you feel like you're in a lamaze class with her. Maybe someday. A.) [[Kiss her|kiss on bed]]. B.) [[Rub her belly|Rub her belly II]]. C.) [[Comment on how fat she's getting|Ending #25]].

You nod. "Goody!" Jenny says. She quickly trades her empty cup for the full one and takes a large sip. The more she drinks, the louder and more affectionate she gets. She wraps her arm around you, leans her head on your shoulder, and even gives your butt a slight pinch. You'd like to reciprocate, but Jenny's not the only one giving you attention. A threesome of Jenny’s gal pals shoot crooked glances and even takes the occassional iPhone photo...and are as discreet as you would expect a gaggle of lightly inebriated teenaged girls to be. But it's Tad Fifer, Jenny’s longtime beau (and captain of the football team), who has you most concerned. At first, he merely stink-eyes you from the base of the stairs, but he soon moves closer to talk to a football buddy. Now they're both eying you. With Jenny well into her third 18 oz. beer, it's looking like both of you may be carried from the party... With you on a stretcher. [[Suggest you find a quieter place 'to talk.'|upstairs #4]]

Jenny grabs your free hand and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past gaggles of gawking girls and packs of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as Jenny leads you up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Feed me," She says in a breathy whisper. [[What are you waiting for? Feed her!|feed her II]]

Your thin dry lips meet her moist plump ones. The kiss starts tentatively, but quickly transitions from PG to PG-13. First, Jenny parts her lips. No tongue at first, just a little taste-test. You reciprocate. Jenny has a full-bodied flavor with a chocolatey aftertaste and a bouquet of strawberry lip gloss. Four stars! Seconds later, your mouths are open and your tongues are tangoing. You scooch close and wrap your arm around Jenny's waist, while she vigorously rubs your back like she's trying to start a fire. You make-out passionately, but whenever you fondle Jenny's newfound flab--the roll around her waist, the folds bunched by her bra, or the crease beneath her shoulder--she goes rigid. It's clear she isn't keen on the adipose armies invading her lush landscape, or your saluting of them. What do you do? A.) [[Head for second base|Head for second base II]]. B.) [[Ask Jenny what's wrong|So what's the deal with you and Tad]]? C.) [[Make it clear the extra pounds don't bother you|extra pounds II]].

(set: $hasKey to true)\ "Oh, I don't think so," Jenny says. You can tell she's wavering, but could use a little peer pressure. "All the cool kids are doing it!" You say wryly. Jenny smiles. "I really shouldn't." "I won't tell anyone. I promise." "Well..." You raise your eyebrows and try to look innocent. You have real doubt as to what she'll say, and are already scrambling to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the response you were hoping for comes from her luscious lips: "Sure." You race from the room and head outside where Cliff Martin--a doughy-faced Junior who had been designated tapmaster--presides over a silver keg and a long line of teenagers waiting to pay hommage. From the restless looks in line to the way Cliff is struggling to produce foam cups filled with anything but foam, you're certain you've got a long wait in front of you. And the thought of giving Jenny alone time to think about what she's doing makes you cringe. What do you do? A.) [[Offer to help Cliff|help cliff]]. B.) [[Try to find someone you know in line to cut with|cut]]. C.) [[Try to scrounge an alternative fuel source|alternative]].

Strangely, Jenny seems less inhibited once you focus your hands on her heavy hangers. It may be over-the-clothes action, but copping a feel of Jenny's heavenly hooters immediately becomes A, B, C, and DD on your list of favorite sexual experiences. As you cup her left breast in your palm, you work your thumb in a clockwise motion across the ridge of tender flesh overflowing the fabric of her lace bra. Although her boobs appear firm and perky with the help of Victoria's Secret, the softness of the spillage suggests it's a secret that won't be kept for long. In fact, you expect they've already begun to shift southward outside their constricted confines. You hope to get the chance to see (and feel) first-hand! What's next? [[Release the hounds! (Undo the button's of Jenny's blouse.)|rejected II]] [[Pet Jenny's plush posterior|posterior II]]. [[Unbutton her skirt|rejected II]].

You run your hand over Jenny's heinie. It's a little disappointing. Her buns are packed tight against against the confines of her denim skirt, but the rough and unyielding nature of the fabric reveals little of their curvy contours. It's like rubbing the surface of a trampoline. You'll have to remedy the situation! [[Unbutton her skirt|rejected II]]. [[Unbotton her blouse|rejected II]]. [[Approach from below|Approach from below II]].

"Good," you say. "I wanted this one for myself anyway." You bite the final brownie as Jenny falls back onto the bed. Her breathing is shallow, weighted by the bowling ball like mass rounding skyward from her stomach. "Oh my god!" Jenny lifts her head off the mattress, causing a delicate double-chin to appear beneath her jawline. "I can see my belly over my boobs!" You lay down next to her. Between Jenny's labored pursed-lipped breathing and the pregnant swell of her belly you feel like you're in a lamaze class with her. Maybe someday. "That was impressive," you say, gently patting the crown of her achievement. "Are you sure you're not eating for two?" "Nope!" Jenny grimaces as she unbuttons her skirt. Even on her back her belly rushes to fill the gap, forcing the zipper down several inches. She runs her hands along the sides of its protuberance. "This is all me." Jenny suddenly gets a faraway look and turns her head towards the wall. "God, I'm getting fat." Alarm bells, north and south, ring internally, but each recommends a different emergency response. What do you say? A.) [[You're not fat!]] B.) [[Is that so bad?]] C.) [[I don't mind]].

Your thin dry lips meet her moist plump ones. The kiss starts tentatively, but quickly transitions from PG to PG-13. First, Jenny parts her lips. No tongue at first, just a little taste-test. You reciprocate. Jenny has a full-bodied flavor with a chocolatey aftertaste and a bouquet of strawberry lip gloss. Four stars! Seconds later, your mouths are open and your tongues are tangoing. You scooch close and wrap your arm around Jenny's waist, while she vigorously rubs your back like she's trying to start a fire. You make-out passionately and Jenny gives you admittance to most of her attractions. Her body is, indeed, a theme park of hilly slopes and fun house bounces. You pay special attention to the latest additions to her pleasure ground--the softness of her sides, the roll around her waist, and the fresh crease beneath her shoulder. After a cursory assessment, its time for some in-depth exploration. What do you do next? A.) [[Manhandle her mountainous melons|Head for second base III]]. B.) [[Pet her plush posterior|Pet her plump posterior II]]. C.) [[Beguile her bulging belly]]. D.) [[Feel her thunder from down under|Approach from below III]].

You run your hand over Jenny's heinie. It's a little disappointing. Her buns are packed tight against against the confines of her denim skirt, but the rough and unyielding nature of the fabric reveals little of their curvy contours. It's like rubbing the surface of a trampoline. You'll have to remedy the situation! (if: $hasKey)[[[Remove her skirt|Remove her skirt]]] (else:)[[[Remove her skirt|Remove her skirt II]]].

It may be over-the-clothes action, but copping a feel of Jenny's heavenly hooters immediately becomes A, B, C, and DD on your list of favorite sexual experiences. As you kiss, you center your mammary massage over a button and deftly open it with your thumb and forefinger while maintaining motion with your remaining fingers. After watching movies where teenagers awkwardly fumble with buttons and bra-straps, you can't help but be a bit proud of yourself. The others undo equally easy and Jenny's blouse falls off her shoulders, revealing her monumental melons. You haven't seen many breasts in your life apart from magazines and online porn, but even the best of those silicone saggers pale before the overfed puppies crawling from the lace bra before you. Even flat on her back, Jenny's proud pair pushes against their lace confines, spilling over the cups and oozing from the sides. Like the rest of her complexion, they're milky-white. But rather than the sickly November pale sported by most of the student body, her skin is pink-tinged porcelain perfection. You cup her left breast in your palm and work your thumb in a clockwise motion across the ridge of tender flesh overflowing the fabric of her lace bra. Although her boobs appear firm and perky with the help of Victoria's Secret, the softness of the spillage suggests it's a secret that won't be kept for long. In fact, you suspect they've already begun to shift southward outside their constricted confines. You plan to find out for sure. [[Release the hounds! (Remove her bra.)|undo top]]

Your hand melts into Jenny's warm belly like butter. As you press gently, you detect some firmness--remnants of years of disciplined diet and exercise--but Jenny's recent indulgences have buried it under a cocoon of soft flab. You wonder how long until it disappears altogether. "Mmmmm," Jenny moans pleasurably as you rub it gently in a clock-wise direction. What do you do next? A.) [[Move your massage lower|Move your massage lower #4]]. B.) [[Mention how fat she's getting]]. { (if: $hasKey)[C.) [[Remove her skirt|Remove her skirt]].] (else:)[C.) [[Remove her skirt|Remove her skirt II]].] } D.) [[Manhandle her mountainous melons|Head for second base III]].

As you kiss, you move your hand back and forth down the slope of her abdomen like a slalom skier, applying gentle pressure against her silky smooth skin as you go. Soon, you're rubbing against the elastic waistband of her fiery red panties. You press against her supple flesh and manuever your fingers beneath its fabric. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a flaxen tuft rising like a forest at the base of a sloping hill. It's clear Jenny's a natural blonde...It's also pretty clear she wasn't expecting visitors. Her pubic mound is mildly coarse, but not unpleasant to touch. It feels a little like the tail of a deer you once felt at a nature exhibit. You smile, imagining Jenny as Bambi with you about to Thumper. Jenny's wispy forest gives way to wetlands as you push your fingers deeper beneath the red canopy of her panties. She lets out a soft moan as you probe the damp flesh. Strangely, you're not at all nervous. Part of it is the cups of courage you downed earlier (along with years of watching porn), but mostly it's Jenny herself. You'd think driving a Ferrari your first time behind the wheel would be nerve-wracking, but she's given you the keys and is responding willingly. As you run your middle finger along the length of her slit, you diddle her clit with your thumb. Pushing your finger inside her, Jenny's legs kick involuntarily. When a second finger joins the first Jenny rocks back and forth on the bed, her upper body propped on her elbows and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Eyes closed, mouth open. Fat rolls bunch around her waist as her body convulses. The deeper you probe, the deeper the creases across her abdomen. You lean in and kiss her swollen belly like a mother might kiss a child's injured finger. You're not sure which is greater, your desire to mount Jenny or your desire to watch this perfect 10 (maybe a 9 now) fatten herself into oblivion. As Jenny approaches climax, you better make a decision. A.) [[Continue massaging her]]. B.) [[Comment on how fat she's getting]]. C.) [[Forget brownies! It's time to stuff Jenny properly|Remove her panties]]!

Jenny tuns back to you. "It hasn't been awful." Then she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls your lips to hers. [[Kiss her|kiss on bed II]].

"That's what my girlfriends say....then they bring me candy and talk shit behind my back." Jenny's head pops off the mattress. "Is that what you're going to do? Stuff me with brownies then tell people what a pig I am?" "N-No," you say. "I just don't think you're fat." Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. "Everyone else in the school thinks I am. Are you lying to save my feelings or just to get in my pants?" You wonder if ever telling a woman she WASN'T fat has taken such a wrong turn. What do you say? A.) [["They're just jealous 'cause you're the most beautiful girl in school."|jealous]] B.) [["Just because you've gained weight doesn't mean you're fat."]] C.) [["I know fat. I like fat. And you, my dear, are not fat."]]

Jenny rolls her eyes. "Oh, brother!" "I mean it!" "I think you answered my question." Jenny stands and brushes the crumbs from her lap. "You're not getting in THESE pants!" Neither is Jenny. Her face reddens as she struggles to zip her skirt. She yanks. She tugs. Even hops up and down, but all that does is make noise and send her jiggles in every direction. Still, the zipper won't budge. You remain silent, dumbfounded by the display. Giving up, Jenny exits breathless into the hall, head down and arms crossed in a vain attempt to hide her embarrassment and partial nudity. The room is a disaster--crumbs are everywhere and the bed is a crumpled mess of soiled sheets. You spend the rest of the night cleaning up. But are never able to clean-up the mess with Jenny. THE END

Jenny nods her head and looks deeply into your eyes. "But you'd like me to be." You swallow hard. "Yes." "I thought so." Jenny stands and brushes a few crumbs from her blouse. "Thank you for being honest." You stand too. Jenny looks around the room. "Dang, did we do all this?" It looks like a warzone. "Don't worry about it," you say. "I got it. Where's your coat?" Jenny seems distracted. "I think...I think I left it downstairs. Are you sure?" You're already sweeping the brownie crumbs into a pile with your hands. "Absolutely." Then you grab Jenny's glass platter and hold it out to her. "But don't forget this." Jenny grasps the other side and holds your gaze for a moment. "I won't." And with that, she exits into the hall. [[But what of you and Jenny?|Ending #26]]

Your relationship with Jenny is complicated. At first she avoids you, turning away or dipping into a restroom anytime you get within eyesight. Then, after a couple weeks, she shows up at your locker. "Hi." "Oh...Hi!" You're so surprised to see her you almost drop your books. She's dressed demurely in gray sweats and a baggy purple sweater, wears no make-up, and her hair is pinned into a single pigtail. Somehow she's still gorgeous. You shut your locker door. "How are you doing?" "I'm doing OK." It's a pat answer, but sounds like one Jenny just settled on recently. "I'm glad." "Yeah, me too." Jenny smiles. "Well, see you around." And that's how it goes. A few other times Jenny goes out of her way to get in yours, but the conversations are equally banal. Neither of you are able to say the things you want to say. Ironically, it seems the elephant in the room will prevent Jenny from ever growing into the role. Over time, life settles on a new normal. Jenny remains pretty and popular, but keeps on the fringes of the social circle, focusing on academics and student counsel over cheerleading and athletics. She doesn't gain anymore weight, but she doesn't lose it either. As winter warms to spring, her baggy sweats and sweaters are replaced with a stylish new wardrobe more attuned to a plus-sized professional than the sexy siren of September. She may never appreciate her extra pounds like you do, but you're happy that she no longer seems ashamed. You stay an outsider...but one with a whiff of celebrity and an aura of mystery, especially among the fairer sex. Girls from Jenny's social circle acknowledge your existence and encourage your involvement with extra caricular school activities, fund-raisers, parties, and, in a couple of instances, themselves. You hardly speak to Jenny, but take comfort in the notion that she has spoken well of you to her friends (though you suspect one or two of them may have cozied up to you just to make her jealous). After graduation, you wish each other a great summer and head your separate ways. Probably for the last time. Jenny was accepted into a big-time college. You're still weighing your options, but attending a big-time college isn't one of them. However, a few weeks later a flowery card emblemized with the words "Thank You" arrives in the mail. It's from Jenny. You open it and read her equally flowery script: //I've been trying to talk to you--really talk to you--for months. I'm not sure why it's been so hard. (Talking has never been an issue for me before. Ha! Ha!) Maybe I'm afraid of the flood gates it might open. Anyway, thank you for being honest with me. You opened my eyes and helped me grow as a person. (I know what you're thinking, smart ass!). Please give me a call sometime, as I really do want to have that in-depth discussion with you. (Maybe we could do it in person over another batch of brownies?)// Beneath Jenny's inscription is her signature, her phone number, and a couple of hand-drawn hearts. You fish your phone from your pocket and dial the number. Jenny answers on the first ring. THE END

Jenny chuckles. "You wouldn't." "What do you mean?" Jenny smiles and shakes her head. "Just don't ever take up poker, Captain Obvious." You're not sure how to react...and your face must appear equally confused, because Jenny quickly rubs your arm reassuringly. "But that's Ok. I'd rather people shoot me straight." Jenny sits up. Her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while the other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. "Most of the people in my life don't." You grin slyly. "Well, my grandmother always says honesty is the best policy." Jenny rolls her eyes. "Oh my God! Please tell me you didn't say that!" You laugh. "Why not? It's true!" "Yes." Jenny nods. "I suppose it is." Then she turns serious. "That's why I want to be honest with you. I like you. And I like that you're fine with my...weight. But I'm not sure that I'm fine with it." You nod. "I understand." "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot of other issues I'm dealing with right now." You may not be the Mensa member Jenny is, but you can still read a sign. "Look, I won't pretend to know all you're going through," you say. "But I want you to know that I care. And I'll be there if you ever need help dealing with anything." "I believe you." Jenny leans in and gives you a quick kiss. It's nice, but it has a finality to it that's palpable. A.) "[[So tell me about Jenny Petersen]]." B.) "[[Want to re-join the party|rejoin the party]]?" C.) "[[Maybe it would help to talk about it?|So what's the deal with you and Tad]]"

Despite filling their cups to capacity (and beyond), Jenny's breasts are supple enough to allow your fingers access beneath the lace fabric of her bra. You brush your index finger across her rock-hard nipple, diddling it gently as you kiss your way down Jenny's cheek to her ear, pausing briefly to suckle her earlobe before proceeding down her neck. You're not sure if it's her shampoo, perfume, natural pheromones, or a combination of all three, but Jenny's smell is more intoxicating than anything you've ever drank. It's like an exotic flower after a rain. Your kisses seem to activate it, as do the blonde folicles that tickle your nose as you peck your way to the crook of Jenny's neck. Your fingers follow the silk road of Jenny's bra around to her back, where you find three little clasps preventing puppy love. Just as you're about to unhinge them, Jenny lurches forward. Her hand pushes hard against your right shoulder causing you to fall on your side and roll onto your back. [["What the..."]]

With a wicked grin, Jenny throws her left leg over you like you're wearing a saddle. Then she pushes her hands against your shoulders, pressing you deep into the mattress. The old box springs creak and sag as the fabric and foam engulfs you. You don't plan on fighting, but aren't sure you could extract yourself from the position even if you wanted to. Somewhere in the back of your mind is concern about the ruckus you're making--as well as some pain from a spring poking the small of your back--but neither darken the cloud you're on. Jenny keeps you pinned her for a moment, letting her long luxurious locks form a canopy around your head. It turns the harsh Halogen light overhead into sun filtering through a field of wavering wheat--its warm rays stream across Jenny's golden smile and sparking pool-blue eyes. Jenny playfully lets her hair tickle your nose, then sits up quickly, tossing her hair back like a Revlon commercial. For a second her excess pounds disappear, and you feel like you're behind (beneath?) the scenes at a Playboy centerfold's video shoot. Then her weight settles as she sits astride your hips. Belly fat bunches between the flaps of Jenny's skirt, flattening her bellybutton and causing a frown-like crease to form in the flesh trapped between her stomach and her breasts. Of course, the crease would be hidden by her hangers if they weren't pushed so perkily into place by her undersized (and overwhelmed) Frederick's bra. The squeeze of her meaty upper arms around them as she holds your belt between her legs like a bull rope causes cleavage to reach nearly to her neck. Of course, Jenny's cleavage isn't the only thing surging. "Oooh!" Jenny smiles, sensing the rock-hard stiffness beneath your Bugle Boys. She playfully gyrates atop you for a few seconds, grinding her titanic tush against your manhood like a top. As she does, she closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, and runs her fingers through her silky blonde hair. "Mmmmmm." Mmmmm, indeed. You're not sure you can save yourself for long. You try to think of Algebra equations. Just as you're deciding between exploding in your jeans or the embarrassment of asking Jenny to stop, she dismounts you. [[What now?|BJ]]

You're not sure how she does it, but Jenny removes your leather belt with one tug. She's still plenty strong. Or plenty practiced. She places her thumb and forefinger on either side of the bulge in your pants and traces its outline upwards until she reaches the buttonfly snap of your jeans. Unlike your belts quick release, Jenny delicately opens each button as if she were unwrapping a fragile Christmas present. And although you're a bit worried about your package's size and wrapping (plaid boxers), the "Oh" face Jenny shows as she peeks beneath the banded waist of your undies tells you it's well-received. In a final display of pomp with your pump, Jenny lifts your underwear away as if unveiling a sculpture...only to hide it again within the golden veil of her hair. You can't see what's going on, but the sensations eminating from your member are electric. You appreciate the view you do have--Jenny kneeling beside you on the bed, her rounded rump jutting out far beyond her feet. You count the rolls of belly fat that form as Jenny hunches over your member. One, two, three, and a forth that appears and disappears with the ebb and flow of her jaw. You wonder how long until it becomes permanent like the others. You quickly realize admiring Jenny's fattening figure is only hastening the ride, so you turn your attentions to the random patterns on the stucco ceiling. You're not sure what magic Jenny's working, but it isn't long before you're finding her beautiful face, round ass, and overripe melons in the plaster lumps and nubs. Jenny adds a warm hand to the base of your shaft, priming your pump with a gentle up and down massage that coincides with the motions of her mouth. When her hand moves south, however, cupping your sack and rolling your balls like dice in a tumbler, all the math problems in your head can't keep you from exploding with a force and duration far greater than any self-induced orgasm you've ever experienced. Jenny fondles your balls as her lips linger over your pulsing shaft. After milking them for all they've got, she rises up and tosses her hair back. Then she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and collapses on the bed beside you, nestling in the crook of your arm. She looks to you with clear blue eyes. "Those brownies needed some cream." { (if: $hasKey)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door II]]] (else:)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door]]] }

Another knock follows--louder this time. "Uh, Jenny, are you in there?" It's Brock Beuerlein, the party's host. Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. Brock continues talking through the door. "Um, my parents got home early." Then comes another voice. A woman's voice you recognize. It's Mrs. Beuerlein. "Jenny, dear, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we're going to need you...and whomever else is in there with you...to leave." Jenny's jaw goes slack. You both spring from the bed and gather up your scattered clothes. Giggling like the school kids you are, you race around the room dressing and straightening, bumping past each other in the small space. The merriment ends, however, when Jenny tries to zip her skirt. You know she won't be able to get it zipped again anytime soon. Maybe ever. "Shit!" After a brief struggle, Jenny gives up and her belly surges forward through the flaps of her skirt, rounding into a perfect pot. Jenny places a hand on its crest and frowns. "What am I going to do?" "Here." You hand Jenny the brownie platter. Jenny holds it in front of her. It partially obscures her wardrobe malfunction, but does little to conceal her embarassment. After a last minute sweeping of brownie crumbs, you open the door and enter the hallway. You hear Mr. Beuerlein lecturing Brock from the study and are grateful they aren't witness to your walk of shame. Of course, Mrs. Beuerlein is bad enough. "I'm very disappointed with you, Ms. Petersen," she says sternly, as your sad parade passes. Apparently, you don't merit any such concern. "Yes, Ma'am," Jenny says as she descends down the stairs, head down, the platter pulled tight across her tummy. You follow silently, resisting the urge to say "goodnight," "you have a lovely home," or any of the number of other platitudes popping in your head. Jenny hurries outside while you grab your coat from a rack in the foyer. By the time you step onto the porch, she's already halfway to her lonely Audi parked at the end of the empty street. It's like she parked far away to remain inconspicuous--though you suspect the lengthy late-night trek to her automobile, dressed as she is and after what just happened, is making her feel especially conspicuous. "Jenny!" You race after her, but she has too big a lead. Hopefully, she'll be easier to catch with a few more pounds. "Hey, Jenny can I get a--" The car door slams, the engine revs, and it speeds away. "Ride?" You glance up and down the street. It appears you're the last partygoer to leave and, though you have enough money for Uber, ultimately decide to call your folks. They'll be pissed, but at least it's still within spitting distance of your curfew. Taking the time to walk or Uber would land you firmly in "grounded" territory. And after what happened tonight, you definitely don't want to be grounded for the next month. [[Call your folks.|Ending #27]]

Another knock follows--louder this time. "Uh, Jenny, are you in there?" It's Brock Beuerlein, the party's host. Jenny sits up and her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. Brock continues talking through the door. "Um, my parents got home early." Then comes another voice. A woman's voice you recognize. It's Mrs. Beuerlein. "Jenny, dear, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we're going to need you...and whomever else is in there with you...to leave." Jenny's jaw goes slack. You both spring from the bed and gather up your scattered clothes. Giggling like the school kids you are, you race around the room dressing and straightening, bumping past each other in the small space. You can only wonder what it must sound like to Mrs. Beuerlein listening at the door. After a last minute wardrobe check, you open the door and enter the hallway. You hear Mr. Beuerlein lecturing Brock from the study and are grateful they aren't witness to your walk of shame. Of course, Mrs. Beuerlein is bad enough. "I'm very disappointed with you, Ms. Petersen," she says sternly, as your sad parade passes. Apparently, you don't merit any such concern. "Yes, Ma'am," Jenny says as she descends down the stairs, head down and arms crossed as if to hide her embarrassment. You follow silently, resisting the urge to say "goodnight," "you have a lovely home," or any of the number of other platitudes popping in your head. Jenny hurries outside while you grab your coat from a rack in the foyer. By the time you step onto the porch, she's already halfway to her lonely Audi parked at the end of the empty street. It's like she parked far away to remain inconspicuous--though you suspect the lengthy late-night trek to her automobile, dressed as she is and after what just happened, is making her feel especially conspicuous. "Jenny!" You race after her, but she has too big a lead. She's still pretty fast despite the added weight. "Hey, Jenny can I get a--" The car door slams, the engine revs, and it speeds away. "Ride?" You glance up and down the street. It appears you're the last partygoer to leave and, though you have enough money for Uber, ultimately decide to call your folks. They'll be pissed, but at least it's still within spitting distance of your curfew. Taking the time to walk or Uber would land you firmly in "grounded" territory. And after what happened tonight, you definitely don't want to be grounded for the next month. [[Call your folks.|Ending #27]]

You break your lips away from Jenny's. "look," you say. "I kind of like...curvier girls." Jenny laughs and rolls onto her back. "No shit." "What do you mean?" Jenny shakes her head. "Just don't ever take up poker, Captain Obvious." You're not sure how to react...and your reddened face must appear equally confused, because Jenny quickly rubs your arm reassuringly. "But that's Ok. I'd rather people shoot me straight." Jenny sits up. Her belly forms three rolls. The larger bottom one tickles her lap while the other two sit atop it like tiers of vanilla soft serve. "Most of the people in my life don't." You grin slyly. "Well, my grandmother always says honesty is the best policy." Jenny rolls her eyes. "Oh my God! Please tell me you didn't say that!" You laugh. "Why not? It's true!" "Yes." Jenny nods. "I suppose it is." Then she turns serious. "That's why I want to be honest with you. I like you. And I like that you're fine with my...weight. But I'm not sure that I'm fine with it." You nod. "I understand." "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot of other issues I'm dealing with right now." You may not be the Mensa member Jenny is, but you can still read a sign. "Look, I won't pretend to know all you're going through," you say. "But I want you to know that I care. And I'll be there if you ever need help dealing with anything." "I believe you." Jenny leans in and gives you a quick kiss. It's nice, but it has a finality to it that's palpable. A.) "[[So tell me about Jenny Petersen]]." B.) "[[Want to re-join the party|rejoin the party]]?" C.) "[[Maybe it would help to talk about it?|So what's the deal with you and Tad]]"

You're amazed how tight Jenny's skirt is, even laying down. It presses tight across rounded stomach with no gap. You pass your hand low across her abdomen, near the top of her waistband, and feel it wedged firmly in place. You doubt you'd be able to get more than a finger beneath the band, even with her stomach's newfound pliability. "This looks uncomfortable." You wedge your thumb between Jenny's lower belly fat and the denim fabric of her skirt. Giving the waistband a gentle shake, you admire the fat ripples that flow upwards across Jenny's belly before disappearing beneath her blouse. "Would you like me to loosen this for you?" "Mmm, hmm," Jenny smiles. You attempt to unclasp the skirt with one hand, but have no slack to work with. Using both hands, and a surprising amount of effort, you pinch together enough fabric that the clasp comes undone. Free from constriction, the zipper shoots down several inches and Jenny's milky-white flesh fills the gap. With her every breath the zipper creeps lower, slowly revealing Jenny's red panties like a vibrant sunrise emerging against a bed of pale clouds. "Is that better?" You say. "I'm afraid it's still too tight." Jenny sticks-out her bottom lip. You work to extract Jenny from the second skin of her skirt, but even unbuttoned and unzipped it's slow-going. Apparently, it's too slow for Jenny who rolls onto her stomach and pushes herself onto all fours. "Does that help?" For a second you appreciate the prospect of having Jenny Petersen, who four months ago would have been voted "Most Likely to Succeed" and "Least Likely to Fuck You," on all fours waiting for you to undress her. It still isn't easy, but without Jenny's weight working against you, you're able to slowly slide the skirt along the smooth contours of her rounded rump. It's so tight that it pulls Jenny's panties along for the ride--which you consider a fringe benefit--but apparently Jenny isn't quite ready to bare all and holds them in place as you tug. As Jenny's titanic tush is slowly revealed, you feel like an archaeologist unearthing a priceless treasure. Her pale cheeks shine like opaque pearls in the light, loosely banded by a thin strip of red silk running between them. You're amazed how perfectly round and smooth they are. If you didn't know better, you'd swear photoshop was involved. With her skirt finally between her knees, your hands explore the virgin territory. (It may not be completely virgin if Tad Fifer's tales are true, but you'll settle for "uncharted.") Her cheeks are just as smooth to the touch. Clearly Jenny's superior genetics and athleticism have allowed the pounds to round her rump without the usual cellulite and saddle bag side-effects. You run a finger beneath the fabric of Jenny's panties to relieve her wedgie, but it's a losing battle. Within seconds, Jenny's waxing moons have eclipsed the sun-red silk. "Thanks," Jenny says sarcastically. You playfully slap a cheek and she collapses onto her stomach. You jump onto the bed and roll onto your back next to her. "I'm going to get you for that," Jenny says with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Don't move!" [[Lay still!|"What the...II"]]

"Damn, you're getting fat." Jenny's eyes flick open and she recoils like you poked her with a branding iron. You fear you've made a colossal mistake. Then her face softens. "I've been a bad girl, haven't I?" "Yes, you have, Ms. Petersen." You gently pat the crest of her belly. "Explain yourself." "I've just been sooo hungry," she says with a pout. You pinch the fat around her waist. You can easily pinch an inch. "You've been eating brownies again haven't you?" "Maybe just a couple." "Burgers and fries?" Your hands run along her fleshy sides towards her chest. "Mmmm,hmmm," Jenny nods. "Milkshakes?" you say, reaching her mammoth mammaries. "You can tell?" "Everyone can tell." "Mmmmmm..." Jenny pulls you against her and kisses you aggresively. She lifts your shirt while you undo her blouse. It's not a race, but it seems like it. Free from the confines of your clothes, you press against each other. Her bulging breasts, contained only by a delicate veil of Frederick's fabric, flatten againt your chest, while the swell of her stomach tickles your own. You're not exactly a workout warrior, but yours is noticably firmer. You doubt that was the case a few months ago. You follow Frederick's frills with your hands until they reach the clasps of the straps digging into Jenny's supple back. Fortunately, your fingers are able to relieve the tension, and the undergarment falls off her rounded shoulders. You relish the sensation of Jenny's bare breasts against you as you explore her naked back. Like a dusting of snow, it's covered by a spongy layer of adipose that's dulled her shoulder blades and filled the trail-like crease of her spine. You trace its partially obscured path until you reach the small of her back--perhaps the one area on Jenny's body that's gotten smaller--and run your finger along its shallow divet. You wonder if you'll be able to find it next time. You push further down until your hand reaches the base of Jenny's butte-like butt. Unfortunately, your ascent is halted by a rigid ridge of denim. You stand beside the bed--dropping your own pants to your ankles--and go to work removing Jenny's skirt, the last hurdle to jump before you can hump. It's slow going. You once negotiated an obstacle course in driver's ed, but it had nothing on Jenny's speed bump booty and dangerously curving hips. Jenny pushes her plumping posterior off the mattress to give you some slack, but struggles to hold a bridge with the fresh pounds parked on her paunch. Between your grunts, Jenny's groans, and the incessant squeak of the bed, anyone listening at the door would assume you were already in the throes of passion. At last, her platinum pubic patch emerges like a light at the end of the tunnel...or a tunnel at the end of your night...either way, you drop Jenny's skirt to the floor and fall between her legs like the head-first slide into home that it is. Maybe in 100 pounds or so, you'll have trouble finding Jenny's sweet spot, but tonight you glide in like a toboggan on a slip-n-slide. Jenny is, indeed, a well-oiled machine. Your initial thrust makes her gasp and bite her lip, but when your follow-up plunges prove tentative, she wraps her legs around you and forces you inside with a power that makes you grunt. At first, you're worried about coming too soon, but the heavy lubrication and easy glide stems your climax and soon you're relishing the ride. Jenny seems to be too. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is frozen in a half-open grimace. You concentrate on keeping the rhythm, using your arms as leverage against the bed to punctuate your penetration. With each thrust, Jenny's belly folds on itself and her flabby fun bags slap loudly against it. You want to fondle them, but since your hands are busy you instead kiss across her torso, starting at the base of her neck and working your way down her chest. After a pleasurable slap in the face by her mammoth mammaries, you capture one of her hardened nipples in your mouth. You suckle it gently, diddle it with your tongue, and then give it a playful bite as Jenny's soft moans grow into loud groans. As you both approach climax, Jenny's ass jiggles and twitches spasmodically, and her passionate throes threaten to throw you from body and bed. Fortunately, her legs are locked around your waist like a seatbelt, helping you to stay both astride and inside. You feel like a cowboy breaking an untamed mare and, though you're enjoying the ride, can't help but imagine how it will change as Jenny transitions from bucking bronco to bloated bovine. "Yes, oh God, yes!" Jenny screams and releases her leg-lock as you explode inside her. As your member finishes throbbing deep within, you collapse in exhaustion atop her well-padded torso. Her soft breasts flatten against your chest and her belly yields to yours. You let your hands run free. You explore her fleshy sides, the edges of her breasts, and follow the path of her arms as they extend up and over her head. Beads of sweat dot Jenny's brow and upper lip. You kiss both, relishing her taste like the salt on the rim of a margarita. Jenny's turns her face towards the wall. You wait for a moment, but she doesn't turn back. You dismount her and roll onto your back next to her. "Wow." { (if: $hasKey)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door II]]] (else:)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door]]] }

You place a hand on Jenny's thigh, just below her skirt. You're amazed how warm it is. While your extremities turn icy come cold weather, Jenny seems to radiate thermal energy. As you kiss, you inch your way beneath the hem. Jenny seems willing to let you explore, unfortunately the skirt's tight fit and rigid denim constraction keeps you from reaching the juicy parts. { (if: $hasKey)[[[It's going to have to go|Remove her skirt]].] (else:)[[[It's going to have to go|Remove her skirt II]].] }

You work to extract Jenny from the second skin of her skirt, but even unbuttoned and unzipped it's slow-going. Apparently, it's too slow for Jenny who rolls onto her stomach and pushes herself onto all fours. "Does that help?" For a second you appreciate the prospect of having Jenny Petersen, who four months ago would have been voted "Most Likely to Succeed" and "Least Likely to Fuck You," on all fours waiting for you to undress her. It still isn't easy, but without Jenny's weight working against you, you're able to slowly slide the skirt along the smooth contours of her rounded rump. It's so tight that it pulls Jenny's panties along for the ride--which you consider a fringe benefit--but apparently Jenny isn't quite ready to bare all and holds them in place as you tug. As Jenny's titanic tush is slowly revealed, you feel like an archaeologist unearthing a priceless treasure. Her pale cheeks shine like opaque pearls in the light, loosely banded by a thin strip of red silk running between them. You're amazed how perfectly round and smooth they are. If you didn't know better, you'd swear photoshop was involved. With her skirt finally between her knees, your hands explore the virgin territory. (It may not be completely virgin if Tad Fifer's tales are true, but you'll settle for "uncharted.") Her cheeks are just as smooth to the touch. Clearly Jenny's superior genetics and athleticism have allowed the pounds to round her rump without the usual cellulite and saddle bag side-effects. You run a finger beneath the fabric of Jenny's panties to relieve her wedgie, but it's a losing battle. Within seconds, Jenny's waxing moons have eclipsed the sun-red silk. "Thanks," Jenny says sarcastically. You playfully slap a cheek and she collapses onto her stomach. You jump onto the bed and roll onto your back next to her. "I'm going to get you for that," Jenny says with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Don't move!" [[Lay still!|"What the...II"]]

You plunge your digits deeper into Jenny's pussy. You're somewhat constricted by Jenny's panties and the angle of your descent, but Jenny makes it clear your exploratory expedition is a roaring success. You kiss across her abdomen, stopping to tickle her belly button with your tongue. At the same time, you burrow your left hand beneath Jenny's blouse and run your fingers along the thin fabric separating you from Jenny's perfectly rounded mounds. Your mom's been on you about multitasking. If she could only see you now. Soon, Jenny's convulsions make it difficult to do much of anything. You diddle faster as her spasms intensify...until she suddenly freezes, knees high, torso tucked, and a pained expression on her face. You freeze too, thinking you might have hurt her, but then she collapses back onto the matress, completely drained and relaxed. { (if: $hasKey)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door II]]] (else:)[[[Suddenly, there's a knock at the door!|knock at door]]] }

With a wicked grin, Jenny throws her left leg over you like you're wearing a saddle. Then she pushes her hands against your shoulders, pressing you deep into the mattress. The old box springs creak and sag as the fabric and foam engulfs you. You don't plan on fighting, but aren't sure you could extract yourself from the position even if you wanted to. Somewhere in the back of your mind is concern about the ruckus you're making--as well as some pain from a spring poking the small of your back--but neither darken the cloud you're on. Jenny keeps you pinned her For a moment, letting her long luxurious locks form a canapy around your head. It turns the harsh Halogen light overhead into sun filtering through a field of wavering wheat--its warm rays stream across Jenny's golden smile and sparking pool-blue eyes. Jenny playfully lets her hair tickle your nose, then sits up quickly, tossing her hair back like a Revlon commercial. For a second her excess pounds disappear, and you feel like you're behind (beneath?) the scenes at a Playboy centerfold's video shoot. Then her weight settles as she sits astride your hips. Belly fat bunches above Jenny's panties, flattening her bellybutton and causing a frown-like crease to form in the flesh trapped between her stomach and her breasts. Of course, the crease would be hidden by her hangers if they weren't pushed so perkily into place by her undersized (and overwhelmed) Frederick's bra. The squeeze of her meaty upper arms around them as she holds your belt between her legs like a bull rope causes cleavage to reach nearly to her neck. Of course, Jenny's cleavage isn't the only thing surging. "Oooh!" Jenny smiles, sensing the rock-hard stiffness beneath your Bugle Boys. She playfully gyrates atop you for a few seconds, grinding her titanic tush against your manhood like a top. As she does, she closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, and runs her fingers through her silky blonde hair. "Mmmmmm." Mmmmm, indeed. You're not sure you can save yourself for long. You try to think of Algebra equations. Just as you're deciding between exploding in your jeans or the embarrassment of asking Jenny to stop, she dismounts you. [[What now?|BJ]]

After a moment, the rotund waitress returns. Her well-worn name badge reads 'Alice.' "What can I getcha?" Alice says, resting the point of her pencil on a tiny spiral pad. "The Grandslam Slugger Breakfast with a side of biscuits and gravy." Alice nods and turns to Jenny. "And for the lady?" "That is for the lady," you say, holding out menus for her to take. "I'll just have a black coffee." Alice looks from Jenny, to you, then back to Jenny. Jenny just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "OHH-Kay," Alice says. Then she takes the menus and beats a hasty retreat back to the kitchen. Jenny clicks her well-manicured nails across the tabletop. "Oh, man, if my mother saw me eating like this." You put your elbows on the table and rest your chin atop clasped fingers. "Wouldn't approve?" "She'd rather me be on drugs," Jenny answers quickly. Things go silent as you wait. Jenny restlessly taps her right leg and looks around as if expecting someone. She smiles at you, but its tight-lipped and strained--not the dimply beam that brightens a room. Fortunately, the restaurant is nearly empty and the chef is quick. Before Jenny's doubts manifest themselves in anything other than nervous energy, Alice returns with the food. As Jenny ogles her mammoth meal--pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, and biscuits and gravy--any misgivings are replaced by a look you know well-- Lust. You sip your coffee and watch as Jenny tears into her food like she hasn't eaten in weeks. So much for the dainty socialite you had her pegged for before tonight. Conversation is sparse--Jenny's mouth is perpetually full--but you couldn't care less. You'd have gladly paid twice the price to watch a beauty like Jenny down thousands of calories of fast food at 1 AM. Jenny notices the dumb grin plastered on your face. "Sorry...this can't be much fun for you." She licks a dab of gravy from the corner of her mouth before taking another bite. "This is the best date I've ever had." You're not lying. "It might be more fun if you sat over here by me." You scoot from your seat, then ease across the orange vinyl of Jenny's bench until your butt bumps hers. Jenny smiles at you with chubby, food-filled cheeks then goes right back to grazing. She was right--it is more fun close up. Her plunging neckline; the delicate aroma of her perfume intermingled with the greasy fare; her immodest lip-smacking; the looks from other patrons likely wondering what a goddess like Jenny is doing nestled against the likes of you. You reach for a sausage link, but Jenny slaps your hand. Her reflexes are still pretty fast. "Ow," you say, shaking off the sting. "I was getting that for you!" Jenny covers her full mouth. "Oh, sorry!" You give her an evil eye as you grab it again. After dipping it in the gravy from the biscuits, you hold it to her lips. "Try not to bite my fingers." "Ha, ha," she says sarcastically. Then she playfully snaps her pearly whites right next to them. You feed her another bite, and another, and another. The more you feed her, the more Jenny involves you in the process. First kissing away the greasy residue from your fingers, and ultimately suckling their tips as she slurps sausages and bacon from your grasp. Eventually, Jenny leans back in her seat and let's you do most of the work. As your right hand shovels in bite after fattening bite, your left hand finds a home in Jenny's lap. It quickly creeps up to her belly. At first, you just rub back and forth across it, but soon you're plying Jenny's pudge like putty between your greasy fingers. After a particularly large bite, you move your massage between the open flaps of Jenny's skirt until you rub against the elastic waistband of her panties. You push against her supple flesh to allow your fingers access. Once beyond the banded border, you meet a tuft rising like a forest at the base of a hill. Though it's mildly coarse, it's not unpleasant to touch. Jenny lays her napkin across her lap, covering your hand. As you plunge yours digits deeper beneath the cloth canopy, wispy forest gives way to wetlands. Jenny lets out a soft moan. "What else can I getcha?" Alice has returned holding a styrofoam box. She surveys the gravy and syrup-stained carnage scattered across the table. "Guess you won't be needin' this." "Mmmmm," Jenny says, rocking back and forth slightly. "it was just too good." Alice tsks as she gathers up the empty dishes. "I wish I still had that youthful metabolism." "Yes," Jenny says, closing her eyes. "It feels good." "Just be careful, honey. Believe it or not, I used to be a size six." Jenny's eyes flit open. "Do you think I'll get fat?" "Honey, I've never seen anybody under 200 pounds finish that plate." Alice carries her load towards the kitchen. "It'll catch up with you eventually." "I'll be careful." Jenny closes her eyes again and pushes back against the seat. "I'll be careful. Oh, God, I'll be careful!" Jenny's butt lifts off the bench so that only her thighs and head touch the orange vinyl. She remains rigid for a few seconds, then collapses back into the booth. The surge of air beneath you almost sends you airborn. You remove your hand and wipe it on the napkin in your lap. Then you take another sip of your coffee. It's tepid. Jenny's eyes stay closed and she breaths like she just fell into the booth after completing a marathon. After a moment, her breathing slows. Then her blue eyes flick open and dart to you. "Dessert?" THE END

After a moment, the rotund waitress returns. Her well-worn name badge reads 'Alice.' "What can I getcha?" Alice says, resting the point of her pencil on a tiny spiral pad. "A Double Slamburger with French fries and a strawberry shake." Alice nods and turns to Jenny. "And for the lady?" "That is for the lady," you say, holding out menus for her to take. "I'll just have a black coffee." Alice looks from Jenny, to you, then back to Jenny. Jenny just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "OHH-Kay," Alice says. Then she takes the menus and beats a hasty retreat back to the kitchen. Jenny clicks her well-manicured nails across the tabletop. "Oh, man, if my mother saw me eating like this." You put your elbows on the table and rest your chin atop clasped fingers. "Wouldn't approve?" "She'd rather me be on drugs," Jenny answers quickly. Things go silent as you wait. Jenny restlessly taps her right leg and looks around as if expecting someone. She smiles at you, but its tight-lipped and strained--not the dimply beam that brightens a room. Fortunately, the restaurant is nearly empty and the chef is quick. Before Jenny's doubts manifest themselves in anything other than nervous energy, Alice returns with the food. As Jenny ogles her Slamburger--two beef patties, hash browns, a sunny side up egg, bacon strips and Pepper Jack queso--any misgivings are replaced by a look you know well-- Lust. You sip your coffee and watch as Jenny tears into her burger like she hasn't eaten in weeks. So much for the dainty socialite you had her pegged for before tonight. Conversation is sparse--Jenny's mouth is perpetually full--but you couldn't care less. You'd have gladly paid twice the price to watch a beauty like Jenny down thousands of calories of fast food at 1 AM. Jenny notices the dumb grin plastered on your face. "Sorry...this can't be much fun for you." She licks a dab of ketchup from the corner of her mouth before taking another bite. "This is the best date I've ever had." You're not lying. "It might be more fun if you sat over here by me." You scoot from your seat, then ease across the vinyl of Jenny's bench until your butt bumps hers. Jenny smiles at you with chubby, food-filled cheeks then goes right back to grazing. She was right--it is more fun close up. Her plunging neckline; the delicate aroma of her perfume intermingled with the greasy fare; her immodest lip-smacking; the looks from other patrons likely wondering what a goddess like Jenny is doing nestled against the likes of you. You reach for a French fry, but Jenny slaps your hand. Her reflexes are still pretty fast. "Ow," you say, shaking off the sting. "I was getting that for you!" Jenny covers her full mouth. "Oh, sorry!" You give her an evil eye as you grab another fry. After slathering it with ketchup, you hold it to her lips. "Try not to bite my fingers." "Ha, ha," she says sarcastically. Then she playfully snaps her pearly whites right next to them. The more fries you feed her, the more Jenny involves you in the process. First kissing away the salty residue from your fingers, and ultimately suckling their tips as she slurps them from your grasp. Eventually, Jenny leans back in her seat and let's you do most of the work. You break her off bites of burger, hold the malt under her mouth so she can sip from the straw, and deposit fries in her mouth two and three at a time. As your right hand shovels in bite after fattening bite, your left hand finds a home in Jenny's lap. It quickly creeps up to her belly. At first, you just rub back and forth across it, but soon you're plying Jenny's pudge like putty between your greasy fingers. After a particularly large bite, you move your massage between the open flaps of Jenny's skirt until you rub against the elastic waistband of her panties. You push against her supple flesh to allow your fingers access. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a tuft rising like a forest at the base of a hill. Though it's mildly coarse, it's not unpleasant to touch. Jenny lays her napkin across her lap, covering your hand. As you plunge yours digits deeper beneath the cloth canopy, wispy forest gives way to wetlands. Jenny lets out a soft moan. "What else can I getcha?" Alice has returned holding a styrofoam box. She surveys the ketchup-stained carnage scattered across the table. "Guess you won't be needin' this." "Mmmmm," Jenny says, rocking back and forth slightly. "it was just too good." Alice tsks as she gathers up the empty dishes. "I wish I still had that youthful metabolism." "Yes," Jenny says, closing her eyes. "It feels good." "Just be careful, honey. Believe it or not, I used to be a size six." Jenny's eyes flit open. "Do you think I'll get fat?" "Honey, I've never seen anybody under 200 pounds finish that plate." Alice carries her load towards the kitchen. "It'll catch up with you eventually." "I'll be careful." Jenny closes her eyes again and pushes back against the seat. "I'll be careful. Oh, God, I'll be careful!" Jenny's butt lifts off the bench so that only her thighs and head touch the orange vinyl. She remains rigid for a few seconds, then collapses back into the booth. The surge of air beneath you almost sends you airborn. You remove your hand and wipe it on the napkin in your lap. Then you take another sip of your coffee. It's tepid. Jenny's eyes stay closed and she breaths like she just fell into the booth after completing a marathon. After a moment, her breathing slows. Then her blue eyes flick open and dart to you. "Dessert?" THE END

The rotund waitress returns. Her well-worn name badge reads 'Alice.' "What can I getcha?" Alice says, resting the point of her pencil on a tiny spiral pad. "The lady will have your side salad with a lite ranch dressing...just make sure you put in on the side, OK?" "That's a great choice," Jenny says. "If you plan on walking home." "Geesh," you say. "If we're going to date, you're going to have to take a joke." Jenny cocks her head to the side. "Are you saying I should lighten up? "No." You shake your head and smile. "I would never say that." "Should I come back?" Alice looks confused. "No, we're ready." Jenny smiles at you through tight lips. "Care to try again?" A.) [[The Grandslam Slugger Breakfast with biscuits and gravy|Grandslam]]. B.) [[A Double Slamburger with French fries and a strawberry shake|Slamburger]].

"The Grandslam Slugger Breakfast with a side of biscuits and gravy." Alice nods and turns to Jenny. "And for the lady?" "That is for the lady," you say, holding out menus for her to take. "I'll just have a black coffee." Alice looks from Jenny, to you, then back to Jenny. Jenny just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "OHH-Kay," Alice says. Then she takes the menus and beats a hasty retreat back to the kitchen. Jenny clicks her well-manicured nails across the tabletop. "Oh, man, if my mother saw me eating like this." You put your elbows on the table and rest your chin atop clasped fingers. "Wouldn't approve?" "She'd rather me be on drugs," Jenny answers quickly. Things go silent as you wait. Jenny restlessly taps her right leg and looks around as if expecting someone. She smiles at you, but its tight-lipped and strained--not the dimply beam that brightens a room. Fortunately, the restaurant is nearly empty and the chef is quick. Before Jenny's doubts manifest themselves in anything other than nervous energy, Alice returns with the food. As Jenny ogles her mammoth meal--pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, and biscuits and gravy--any misgivings are replaced by a look you know well-- Lust. You sip your coffee and watch as Jenny tears into her food like she hasn't eaten in weeks. So much for the dainty socialite you had her pegged for before tonight. Conversation is sparse--Jenny's mouth is perpetually full--but you couldn't care less. You'd have gladly paid twice the price to watch a beauty like Jenny down thousands of calories of fast food at 1 AM. Jenny notices the dumb grin plastered on your face. "Sorry...this can't be much fun for you." She licks a dab of gravy from the corner of her mouth before taking another bite. "This is the best date I've ever had." You're not lying. "It might be more fun if you sat over here by me." You scoot from your seat, then ease across the orange vinyl of Jenny's bench until your butt bumps hers. Jenny smiles at you with chubby, food-filled cheeks then goes right back to grazing. She was right--it is more fun close up. Her plunging neckline; the delicate aroma of her perfume intermingled with the greasy fare; her immodest lip-smacking; the looks from other patrons likely wondering what a goddess like Jenny is doing nestled against the likes of you. You reach for a sausage link, but Jenny slaps your hand. Her reflexes are still pretty fast. "Ow," you say, shaking off the sting. "I was getting that for you!" Jenny covers her full mouth. "Oh, sorry!" You give her an evil eye as you grab it again. After dipping it in the gravy from the biscuits, you hold it to her lips. "Try not to bite my fingers." "Ha, ha," she says sarcastically. Then she playfully snaps her pearly whites right next to them. You feed her another bite, and another, and another. The more you feed her, the more Jenny involves you in the process. First kissing away the greasy residue from your fingers, and ultimately suckling their tips as she slurps sausages and bacon from your grasp. Eventually, Jenny leans back in her seat and let's you do most of the work. As your right hand shovels in bite after fattening bite, your left hand finds a home in Jenny's lap. It quickly creeps up to her belly. At first, you just rub back and forth across it, but soon you're plying Jenny's pudge like putty between your greasy fingers. After a particularly large bite, you move your massage between the open flaps of Jenny's skirt until you rub against the elastic waistband of her panties. You push against her supple flesh to allow your fingers access. Once beyond the banded border, you meet a tuft rising like a forest at the base of a hill. Though it's mildly coarse, it's not unpleasant to touch. Jenny lays her napkin across her lap, covering your hand. As you plunge yours digits deeper beneath the cloth canopy, wispy forest gives way to wetlands. Jenny lets out a soft moan. "What else can I getcha?" Alice has returned holding a styrofoam box. She surveys the gravy and syrup-stained carnage scattered across the table. "Guess you won't be needin' this." "Mmmmm," Jenny says, rocking back and forth slightly. "it was just too good." Alice tsks as she gathers up the empty dishes. "I wish I still had that youthful metabolism." "Yes," Jenny says, closing her eyes. "It feels good." "Just be careful, honey. Believe it or not, I used to be a size six." Jenny's eyes flit open. "Do you think I'll get fat?" "Honey, I've never seen anybody under 200 pounds finish that plate." Alice carries her load towards the kitchen. "It'll catch up with you eventually." "I'll be careful." Jenny closes her eyes again and pushes back against the seat. "I'll be careful. Oh, God, I'll be careful!" Jenny's butt lifts off the bench until only her thighs and head touch the orange vinyl. She remains rigid for a few seconds, then collapses back into the booth. The surge of air beneath you almost sends you airborn. You remove your hand and wipe it on the napkin. Then you take another sip of your coffee. It's tepid. Jenny huffs like she just fell into the booth after running a marathon. After a moment, her breathing slows. Then her blue eyes flick open and dart to you. "Dessert?" THE END

"A Double Slamburger with French fries and a strawberry shake." Alice nods and turns to Jenny. "And for the lady?" "That is for the lady," you say, holding out menus for her to take. "I'll just have a black coffee." Alice looks from Jenny, to you, then back to Jenny. Jenny just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "OHH-Kay," Alice says. Then she takes the menus and beats a hasty retreat back to the kitchen. Jenny clicks her well-manicured nails across the tabletop. "Oh, man, if my mother saw me eating like this." You put your elbows on the table and rest your chin atop clasped fingers. "Wouldn't approve?" "She'd rather me be on drugs," Jenny answers quickly. Things go silent as you wait. Jenny restlessly taps her right leg and looks around as if expecting someone. She smiles at you, but its tight-lipped and strained--not the dimply beam that brightens a room. Fortunately, the restaurant is nearly empty and the chef is quick. Before Jenny's doubts manifest themselves in anything other than nervous energy, Alice returns with the food. As Jenny ogles her Slamburger--two beef patties, hash browns, a sunny side up egg, bacon strips and Pepper Jack queso--any misgivings are replaced by a look you know well-- Lust. You sip your coffee and watch as Jenny tears into her burger like she hasn't eaten in weeks. So much for the dainty socialite you had her pegged for before tonight. Conversation is sparse--Jenny's mouth is perpetually full--but you couldn't care less. You'd have gladly paid twice the price to watch a beauty like Jenny down thousands of calories of fast food at 1 AM. Jenny notices the dumb grin plastered on your face. "Sorry...this can't be much fun for you." She licks a dab of ketchup from the corner of her mouth before taking another bite. "This is the best date I've ever had." You're not lying. "It might be more fun if you sat over here by me." You scoot from your seat, then ease across the vinyl of Jenny's bench until your butt bumps hers. Jenny smiles at you with chubby, food-filled cheeks then goes right back to grazing. She was right--it is more fun close up. Her plunging neckline; the delicate aroma of her perfume intermingled with the greasy fare; her immodest lip-smacking; the looks from other patrons likely wondering what a goddess like Jenny is doing nestled against the likes of you. You reach for a French fry, but Jenny slaps your hand. Her reflexes are still pretty fast. "Ow," you say, shaking off the sting. "I was getting that for you!" Jenny covers her full mouth. "Oh, sorry!" You give her an evil eye as you grab another fry. After slathering it with ketchup, you hold it to her lips. "Try not to bite my fingers." "Ha, ha," she says sarcastically. Then she playfully snaps her pearly whites right next to them. The more fries you feed her, the more Jenny involves you in the process. First kissing away the salty residue from your fingers, and ultimately suckling their tips as she slurps them from your grasp. Eventually, Jenny leans back in her seat and let's you do most of the work. You break her off bites of burger, hold the malt under her mouth so she can sip from the straw, and deposit fries in her mouth two and three at a time. As your right hand shovels in bite after fattening bite, your left hand finds a home in Jenny's lap. It quickly creeps up to her belly. At first, you just rub back and forth across it, but soon you're plying Jenny's pudge like putty between your greasy fingers. After a particularly large bite, you move your massage between the open flaps of Jenny's skirt until you rub against the elastic waistband of her panties. You push against her supple flesh to allow your fingers access. Once beyond its banded border, you meet a tuft rising like a forest at the base of a hill. Though it's mildly coarse, it's not unpleasant to touch. Jenny lays her napkin across her lap, covering your hand. As you plunge yours digits deeper beneath the cloth canopy, wispy forest gives way to wetlands. Jenny lets out a soft moan. "What else can I getcha?" Alice has returned holding a styrofoam box. She surveys the ketchup-stained carnage scattered across the table. "Guess you won't be needin' this." "Mmmmm," Jenny says, rocking back and forth slightly. "it was just too good." Alice tsks as she gathers up the empty dishes. "I wish I still had that youthful metabolism." "Yes," Jenny says, closing her eyes. "It feels good." "Just be careful, honey. Believe it or not, I used to be a size six." Jenny's eyes flit open. "Do you think I'll get fat?" "Honey, I've never seen anybody under 200 pounds finish that plate." Alice carries her load towards the kitchen. "It'll catch up with you eventually." "I'll be careful." Jenny closes her eyes again and pushes back against the seat. "I'll be careful. Oh, God, I'll be careful!" Jenny's butt lifts off the bench so that only her thighs and head touch the orange vinyl. She remains rigid for a few seconds, then collapses back into the booth. The surge of air beneath you almost sends you airborn. You remove your hand and wipe it on the napkin. Then you take another sip of your coffee. It's tepid. Jenny huffs like she just fell into the booth after running a marathon. After a moment, her breathing slows. Then her blue eyes flick open and dart to you. "Dessert?" THE END

Your thin dry lips meet her moist plump ones. Within seconds, your mouths are open and your tongues are tangoing. You scooch close and wrap your arm around Jenny's waist, while she vigorously rubs your back like she's trying to start a fire. You make-out passionately. Jenny gives you admittance to most of her attractions. Her body is, indeed, a theme park of hilly slopes and fun house bounces. You pay special attention to the latest additions to her pleasure ground--the softness of her sides, the roll around her waist, and the fresh crease beneath her shoulder. Suddenly, Jenny pulls away. She looks repulsed and pale. "I'm sorry." At first, you suspect you've touched her in a sensitive spot...or that she's finally come to her senses. Then she vomits. On you. On herself. On the bed. On the floor. And into a trash can once you finally find one beneath an end table. It's like a scene from The Exorcist filmed at Willy Wonka's. You spend the rest of the night cleaning up your mess. But are never able to clean-up the mess with Jenny. THE END

After what seems like an eternity, Jenny smiles. “You're right. I'm sorry I snapped." “No problem,” you say, sighing with relief. “I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me, much less snap.” Jenny looks hurt. "Why wouldn’t I talk to you?" "Well, I’m not apart of the crowd you usually have around you." "That's a good thing," she says. "My crowd kind of sucks." "How do you mean?" "Let's just say that I don't like how they make me feel." You nod. "My Grandma used to say if you lay down with dogs you're bound to get fleas." Jenny smiles. "Your Grandmother is a wise woman." It's nice to see Jenny smile again, but you sense a dull pain beneath her shiny veneer. You're tempted to probe deeper...in more ways than one. How do you respond? A.) [[Kiss her.|kiss on bed]] B.) [["I'm a pretty good listener. Wanna talk about it?"|So what's the deal with you and Tad]] C.) [["Want to re-join the party?"|rejoin the party]]

Jenny shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I can't." Damn! You knew you should've gotten her another beer. Even worse, the question seems to make Jenny uncomfortable. She sits up straight and inches towards the edge of the bed. "Ready to head back?" No, you're not ready to head back, but you're not sure what choice you have. Still, she looks uncertain. Maybe you could sway her? What do you do? [[Kiss her|Ending #19]]. [[Escort her back to the party]].

Double-click this passage to edit it.

She leads you back to the snack table. "Grab the brownies." You pick up the platter in your right hand as Jenny grabs your left and winds you through the crowd. All eyes are upon you as the class beauty, standing taller than you in her pumps, guides you, Mr. Nobody, past gaggles of gawking girls and packs of preening preppers. You try not to smile or make eye-contact, but you can tell conversations are stopping and mouths are dropping as Jenny leads you up the stairs. Jenny opens the first door on the right without knocking. Normally that would be a dangerous proposition, but the night was still pretty young. She leads you to a large bed in the center of the room and sits you down. She then sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch. As she leans towards you, a thick roll of virgin flesh spills over the waistband of her skirt and the slack in her top reveals deep cleavage and an overtaxed bra. "Feed me," She says in a breathy whisper. [[What are you waiting for? Feed her!|feed her III]]

Jenny shakes her head. "Maybe later." Then she gets this weird cat that ate the canary (along with alot of junkfood) look. "What?" you say. Still smirking, Jenny leans in and whispers in your ear-- "I have an idea. Grab the brownies and follow me." What are you waiting for? [[Grab the brownies!|upstairs III]]

You watch Tad storm up the stairs and turn for the bedroom. It's quiet for a few seconds, then shouting pierces the din of the party. Apparently, Jenny's "little chat" with Tad is heated. Then it suddenly stops. You strain your ears, but hear nothing beyond the stereo and the idle chatter of the crowd. You creep up a few steps, but still hear nothing from the bedroom. Your heart races as you imagine Jenny knocked-out on the floor, a victim of Tad's abuse. You fly up the remaining steps. You're about to burst in and ambush Tad when a sound breaks the silence along with your chances with Jenny. It's the worst sound you could imagine. Worse than a scream or a crash or even a gunshot. It's the unmistakable squeak of bedsprings. It gets louder and is soon joined by a rythmic 'thump' against the floor. You descend the stairs and wind your way through the party amidst laughter and coital commentary-- //"Sounds like Tad went back on his 'no fatties' pledge." "Careful! The ceiling may come down!" "Make-up sex is the best."// Like a perverted horror movie, the 'squeak-thump-squeak-thump' follows you home and is still ringing in your ears as you get in your empty bed. It keeps you up quite a few nights after this one. THE END Epilogue: [[What happened to Jenny?|Ending #17]]

Cliff shakes his head. "Nice try." You turn to Judy and, before you can react, she takes your beer from you. "Sorry, I need this," she says. "For a friend!" Then she turns and walks away. "That was smooth, buddy!" Cliff erupts in a fit of guffaws. You shoot him a dirty look as you walk back inside to the sounds of his laugh track. [[Head back to Jenny empty-handed]].

"I have an idea," Jenny says. "Grab the brownies and follow me." What are you waiting for? [[Grab the brownies!|upstairs #10]]

Jenny laughs. "Was your Grandma a large woman?" "No," you say. "She was pretty carefree..." You grab a Snickerdoodle and hold it in front of Jenny's face. She dutifully takes a bite. "...Did I mention my Aunt Kim though?" [[Help Jenny eat away her troubles.|lots of eating]]

Jenny's glassy eyes widen. "Tha's a great idea! Les get some brownies!" She tries to stand, but immediately falls back on the bench. Beers sloshes all over both of you. "Whoopsie!" Jenny says. "Tha's SOOOO cold!" You stand and brush off some of the moisture. "I think you'd better stay here. I'll grab you some food and bring it back." "Tha's a good boy!" Jenny says, slumping on the bench with her back against the wall. "Bring me some tasty morsels...and bring me some food, too!" You leave Jenny laughing hysterically on the bench. Whatever you do it had better be fast... You pile a plate with four brownies and an assortment of other goodies from the snack table and quickly head back outside. As you step out onto the porch, you find a crowd gathered around the bench. Apparently, Jenny has passed-out and fallen off. Some people kneel to revive her, while others stand gawking as they sip their beers. And at the center is Tad Fifer, standing a head taller than everyone else, angrily scouring the crowd. Something tells you he's not looking for medical assistance. You step off the porch and into darkness. Then you race through the shadows and out the back gate. You have money for Uber, but don't plan on sticking around for them to arrive. At least you have some snacks to nosh on during the long, cold, wet walk home. THE END

You gently pat the crest of Jenny's bare belly. "You are getting nice and fat." "It's all your fault," Jenny says through chocolate-stained lips. "No." You run you cool hand back and forth over the warm protuberence of her stomach. "You've been working on this for a while." "I don't want to get fat," Jenny says. "Sure you do." Jenny's uncertain eyes meet your certain ones...then she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls your lips to hers. You're not sure if she's titlated, wants you to shut you up, or both. But right now you couldn't care less! [[Kiss her.|kiss on bed II]]

Jenny takes a final swig and turns the cup upside down. Not a drop remains. "Good girl!" you say. She scooches closer and puts her hand on your inner thigh. "Not really." [[Kiss her.|kiss on bed II]]

You get a lecture on the ride home, but it's a small price to pay for the excellent evening you've experienced. Monday morning you head to school with a big grin. You don't want to seem too anxious, so you wait until after lunch to drop by Jenny's locker. She's dressed demurely in gray sweats and a baggy purple sweater, wears no make-up, and her hair is pinned into a single pigtail. Somehow she's still gorgeous. "Hi." "Oh...Hi!" She's so surprised to see you she almost drops her books. "I had fun Saturday," you say. Nearby members of Jenny's clique giggle and exchange glances. "Yeah," Jenny says, her eyes cast downward. "Me too." Then she shuts her locker and backs away. "I have to get to class." "Can I see you later?" Jenny marches briskly back to you. She leans over your shoulder and for a second you think she might kiss your cheek, but instead she whispers tersely in your ear: "Saturday was fun, but it was a one-shot deal, OK? Please don't expect anything more." Then she turns and walks away as her entourage falls in behind her. And that's the end of you and Jenny. You don't believe it at first. You expect she'll come around and make yourself available for her to do so. You pass by her locker frequently, hang-out near where her car is parked, and sit as close as you can to her at lunch. Nevertheless, she ignores you. Over time, life settles on a new normal. Jenny remains pretty and popular, but keeps on the fringes of the social circle. She doesn't gain anymore weight, but she doesn't lose it either. One day you'll spy her chowing down burgers and fries in the commissary, and the next she'll nibble nothing but rabbit food from home. She seems confused--caught between the life she's supposed to lead and the deviant one you exposed her to. You stay an outsider...but one with a whiff of celebrity and an aura of mystery, especially among the fairer sex. Girls from Jenny's social circle acknowledge your existence and encourage your involvement with extra caricular school activities, fund-raisers, parties, and, in a couple of instances, themselves. You hardly speak to Jenny, but take comfort in the notion that she has spoken well of you to her friends (though you suspect one or two of them may have cozied up to you just to make her jealous). After graduation, you head your separate ways. Probably for the last time. Jenny was accepted into a big-time college. You're still weighing your options, but attending a big-time college isn't one of them. However, a few weeks later a flowery card emblemized with the words "I'm Sorry" arrives in the mail. It's from Jenny. You open it and read her equally flowery script: //I've been trying to say this for months--I'm not sure why it's been so hard. Maybe I'm afraid of the flood gates it might open. Anyway, I'm sorry for how I reacted after that night. I'll be honest, I was scared of my feelings and still am in many ways. You deserve better though. Please give me a call sometime, as I would like to say 'I'm sorry' in person. (Maybe we could do it over another batch of brownies?)// Beneath Jenny's inscription is her signature, her phone number, and a couple of hand-drawn hearts. You fish your phone from your pocket and dial the number. Jenny answers on the first ring. THE END

You and Jenny play it coy for a couple days. On Monday, you pace past her locker like a duck in a shooting gallery until she acknowledges your presence with a laugh and a wave. On Tuesday, she parades coquettishly past yours while her entourage looks as if they took a wrong turn into a bad neighborhood. Before your flirtations become fodder for everyone from Freshman to faculty, however, you figure you'd better make your move. The next morning you find Jenny at her locker. She's dressed demurely in gray sweats and a baggy purple sweater, wears no make-up, and her hair is pinned into a single pigtail. Somehow she's still gorgeous. "Hi." "Oh...Hi!" She's so surprised to see you she almost drops her books. "Can I buy you lunch today?" "Sorry." Jenny holds up a brown bag from her locker. "That's too bad," you say, leaning against the locker next to hers. "I know this quaint little French place right around the corner. Perhaps you've heard of it? The Café Teria?" Jenny smiles. "And what kind of French food do they serve at The Café Teria?" "French Fries, French bread...the list goes on and on." "You talked me into it." Jenny shuts her locker door. "But I'm buying." "I'll make reservations for 12:30" you say, as Jenny starts down the hall. "There's a quiet table overlooking the vending machines." Jenny does a 360-degree turn, smiling and waving to you at the 180 mark, before continuing to class. Come lunchtime you wait anxiously in your usual spot, drumming your fingers across the table. Suddenly, the most beautiful girl in the school--probably the entire state--appears by your side. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" "Not at all!" Jenny turns to address a group of about eight girls standing behind her. "I'm going to sit with him today." After the shock wears off, some girls saunter silently to their usual spots while others wander the cafeteria like ants whose hill has been covered. Jenny stands. "I'll be right back." You enjoy the view as Jenny sashays her way towards the cafeteria line. A few minutes later, she returns with two bacon cheeseburgers on a tray piled high with fries. "Didn't you bring your lunch?" you say, as she sits back down. "I did," Jenny says with a smile. "Today just seemed like a burger and fry day." "More of a burger and Wednesday." "Ha, ha!" Jenny smothers a few fries with ketchup and pops them in her mouth. You reach for a burger and she slaps your hand. "Ow!" you say, shaking off the sting. "What'd you do that for?" Jenny slides her brown bag lunch your direction. "This is for you," she says with her mouth full. "My mom will be mad if it goes to waste." You peer inside. "Rabbit food?" "Mmm-hmmm," Jenny intones through chubby, burger-filled cheeks. "I need you need to stay in shape for me." When Jenny's mouth isn't busy chewing the two of you talk like old friends. Days earlier the prospect would have petrified you, but now it feels completely natural. You hardly notice the stares and whispered conversations occurring around you and, before you know it, Jenny's burgers are gone and the bell is ringing. You sit together again on Thursday, pizza day, and have another burger come Friday. Saturday is your first official date--at an all-you-can-eat place called The Portly Pig. You lose your virginity to Jenny a few weeks later. It happens in your very own bedroom, following a big dinner at a Mexican place, while your parents are out of town. As you watch Jenny undress beneath your vintage Star Wars poster, you can't help but think back to that fateful party, when Jenny was teetering between fit and fat. Now its obvious her cullinary adventures with you have tipped her to the fat side for the first time in her life. Despite packing on a few more pounds before graduation, Jenny doesn't really balloon until the summer, when your lazy days are spent lounging by her pool. Apart from quick dips to cool off, the only exercise you get is love-making sessions after raiding her parents' well-stocked fridge. You end up with a bit of a gut, but keeping Jenny satisfied burns enough calories to keep you from blimping too much. The same can't be said for Jenny, and by August she's well over 200 fat and happy pounds. Perhaps expectedly, the romance fizzles when she leaves for college. You call and e-mail for a while, but without the shared bond of food and sex you quickly run out of things to talk about. (She does titilate you with a story about how she was deemed "too fat" for a certain sorority, but you go limp when she laments her grade in calculus.) Although you both move on, it's primarily you that stops corresponding. You feel like a distraction and, as much as you lust for her, you want her to reach her goals. Ultimately, she does. She becomes a chemical engineer for a major pharmaceutical company. You don't talk, but you're friends on Facebook. You 'like' posts about her kids (a boy and girl), but give posts about her jogging with her fit husband the 'sad face'. Most people wouldn't notice, but you hope Jenny does and it makes her smile. Despite the exercise regimen, Jenny remains moderately plump. She's nowhere near as gloriously lush as she was that magical summer, but she still looks to be pushing 200 pounds. It suits her--she's fit and pretty enough to be considered a MILF by anyone's definition, but sports the curves of someone that's enjoyed life. She looks happy and you're happy for her. Life goes on for you, too. You graduate, go to college, get a job, and take a wife. And though you try to avoid comparing her to Jenny--it's simply not fair--every now and again she bakes brownies and lets you feed them to her. (Though not in bed--that's crazy messy.)

You excuse yourself and go to the hallway to call the cops. Your intentions are good, but you don't anticipate the collateral damage your call will have. The party is shut-down, parents are called, and multiple citations are given. You and Jenny answer questions until well after mindnight, and when you're finally dismissed Jenny is still being interviewed. You plan to wait for her, but the look she shoots you makes it clear that would be a mistake. After a restless weekend, the threat of an ass-kicking lurks in every class and coridor come Monday. However, as days pass, and evidence against Tad mounts (a football chum chimes-in with incriminating tales from Tad's own tongue, while one of his old girlfriend reports a romantic rendezvous under suspiciously similar circumstances) the opinion of you in many circles goes from snitch to savior. [[But what of you and Jenny|Ending #14]]?

You shoot paper-- And Jenny shoots rock! You win! You playfully place your palm over Jenny's balled fist. "Right!" Jenny says, as she reclines back on the bed. "Let's try it from here this time." [[Lay back and pucker up|second kiss]]!

<img src="Images/Jenny.png" /> [[PLAY!|Start]]