Ella's Story Pt. 01 - The Bakery

*The Prologue*

Ella wasn't always chubby. She was an athlete throughout high school and college, playing volleyball primarily and other sports off-season to keep her athletic conditioning. More than anything, she was studious, always keeping her GPA high to ensure good career prospects after her upcoming graduation. She left the pressure of her impending opportunities imploding and tried to reduce her stress by hanging out with her high school sweetheart boyfriend, Kyle, who was the perpetually carefree type. She would watch him play video games for hours, envying how enthralled he was in his activities, wishing she could immerse herself in anything as fully as Kyle immersed himself in his games. She always felt a little outside herself, like she, too, was controlling a character on a screen. That feeling was worsened in the presence of others, especially in aimless group settings, like the bonfires and house parties Kyle loved to take her to. Maybe it wasn't so much that he liked to take her so much as he liked to go to these parties himself, considering that he would often leave her a few steps from the door, half carried away by the handshake hugs as him and his 'bros' crashed into each other excitedly the moment they saw each other. She was used to this dynamic, but soothed herself with the knowledge that he was not this eager with other girls, just his male friends. This reassurance went out the window when one of his male friends began to come on to her, rather overtly and within earshot of Kyle.

"Come onnnnnnnn," he slurred, "Don't be such a tight ass. Kyle tells us how sloppy your *burp* toppy is."

He laughed obnoxiously and the few friends who caught on to his point laughed along. Ella tugged on Kyle sleeve, trying to catch his attention, waiting for him to intervene furiously on her behalf.

"Why don't you show us those tiny titties?" he continued, flicking the tip of her pointy nipples. "We miss them, right boys? Bitty or not, we love when Kyle sends us those flat little tits." He made another move towards her breasts and she shrieked.

"Kyle!" She exclaimed, noting that most of the guys in the group had been minding her conversation and now, her breasts. Nobody seemed as confused as her at the comment Kyle's friend had made about them seeing her breasts before.

"Huh?" he burped. She felt her blood boil.

"This guy is asking me to show him my tits! He said he has seen them before. Can't you make him stop?"

"Huh" his eyes rolled around a bit, taking in the situation. His friends looked at her like hyenas. "Yeah, I know what will make them stop..." his face sobered and for a moment, she felt relieved. He broke into a grin and exclaimed "IF YOU SHOW THEM YOUR TITTIES!"

The crowd broke into laughter and began pawing at her chest. Her top ripped as she bolted, using every ounce of strength to break out of their enclosing huddle and raced home. She arrived crying, out of breath, and frantic. She tried to calm her heart rate, taking exaggerated breaths, but she could still hear her pulse in her ears. Horrified at the torn shirt, she ripped the rest of her clothes off and stood, panting, naked in front of her full-length mirror. She looked at her trim body and felt the same absence she always did. It is not that she hated or disliked her body; there was nothing much to dislike. She had just never felt a kinship to her frame. She inspected the lines of her body and felt nothing. It was like looking at a catalog model, nondescript. She had received hundreds of compliments in her lifetime; men and women alike commented on how lucky she was to be toned and slim. She sighed and wished that she understood the charm. She pulled on a jacket and a pair of tennis shoes and resigned to jog off her frantic mood. It was her go-to (and only) coping mechanism.

She began jogging on a different route, cognizant that her typical route would lead her right back to the party she narrowly avoided assault from. As she ran, rain began to fall, lightly at first then heavily, causing fat droplets to burst against her skin. She shivered and looked around for an awning to shelter under. Instead, she noticed the warm glow of a tiny shop, the only one on the block open so late. The glow compelled her and she felt herself drawn to the warmly-lit building with the festive, snowy window display. She could finally make out the cheery-looking sign advertising fresh donuts and hot coffee.

"Well," she thought "at least I can get a hot drink to wait out the rain with." She heard the door jingle before she realized she had pulled open the door.

"Hello!" a tiny old woman greeted her and shuffled to the donut case. "Donut?" she asked with a slight accent, gesturing to the neat rows of pastries.

"Oh I-" she began, intending to correct the woman and order a black coffee instead. Instead, her eyes drifted over to the glass case displaying brightly-colored donuts adorned with shiny glaze, sparkling sugar, and colorful sprinkles. She gulped and shook her head as the woman looked on patiently. "Just a- yes," she blurted, surprising herself. She hadn't had a donut in years, much less at midnight during a run. The woman looked so pleased, she couldn't bring herself to renege on her order. She shuffled to grab tongs and a box.

"Dozen?" She asked sweetly.

"Yes!" Ella blurted and immediately blushed from the panic. "Oh god," she thought, "what a waste. Why did I say that? I am going to have to give these away or throw them out." She internally groaned, kicking herself for not correcting herself before the old woman happily began folding a pink box into shape.

"Which?" The woman smiled innocently, gesturing again with the tongs.

Ella tried to shake her frazzled demeanor and focus on the arbitrary task at hand.

"Who cares?" she thought, "They're all going to be too sweet..."

Still, she focused in on the array of chocolate and maple in front of her.

"Um, the chocolate circle one? And I guess the chocolate bar-shaped one too. And the maple circle one... the maple log too." Ella moved down the glass display and began feeling a bubbling sense of giddiness as she explored the next array of trays.

"The Boston creme? Well, two Boston cremes. The glazed, oh, and an old-fashioned glazed."

The lady danced along the display with her, sliding the donuts out of the trays, creating a satisfying, powdery scraping sound.

"Oh, those were my favorite," she shared, as her eyes fixed on a pink sprinkle donut that had always been her childhood choice. She looked up at the woman and her eyes crinkled to communicate that she had understood her completely. Ella blurted a laugh and wondered why she couldn't keep herself under control.

"One chocolate, one vanilla, two pinks please. How many is that?"

"Dozen," the woman said, in a way that made Ella feel like she knew that Ella was disappointed to not continue to add donuts to her pink box.

"Oh, great," she said, taking out the emergency $20 she kept in the zipper of all of her workout clothes, more grateful than ever for it.

She handed it over to the woman and tried not to bounce on her toes in anticipation of holding the now-heavy pink box full of treats. The woman dropped the change back into Ella's hands and pushed the box, now topped with a white paper bag crinkled shut, towards her.

"Oh! I-" Ella tried but the woman cut her off with sounds of protest. She pushed the bag to her again and nodded. She pointed at Ella and nodded. "Thank you," Ella said sincerely, grateful for the service, the donuts, and the warmth that the lady's establishment had provided. The bell rang cheerily again and she left back to the rain, which was now more of a mist. Ella sat on a nearby bench and felt the weight of the box on her thighs. She couldn't run with this full box. She opened the bag, curious of what the lady had managed to sneak in, secretly hoping it was a bear claw donut. The crinkled bag revealed a haul of tiny donuts, shaped like little balls. Ella laughed out loud again, no longer surprising herself with her outbursts. Donut holes. Glazed donut holes. She reached in to try one. Sweet, but melted like crispy butter in a moment on her tongue. She could easily eat one in two bites. Hm. Maybe she could eat one in one bite. She popped one in her mouth and giggled a muffled giggle around the donut that took up the bulk of her mouth. She wondered if she could fit two without choking. She attempted to and burst into a fit of giggles as they filled her cheeks each, like the cheeks of a squirrel with a nut. Her saliva melted the sugar and the compression from her cheeks caused the dough to deflate and she chewed the sweet sugar up, along with plenty of drool. She attempted again and made herself laugh once more. She completely ignored the part of her brain that wanted to shame her for eating 6 donuts. Donut holes, she thought smugly. She remembered the pink box with its decadent desserts and felt her mouth, along with other parts of her, water at the thought of their sugar melting on her lips. She craved fullness and that night, she learned was true and complete fullness was.

*Part I*

Ella slipped into a familiar open door, a bakery a few steps from her apartment.

"Hey sweet thing," a sandy-haired 20-something-year-old greeted, grinning. Ella blushed immediately, always shy with how unabashed Matthew, the bakery worker, was with her. Even when he was in the back out of earshot, hands busy kneading dough, he would wink at her.

"Matthew," she bit back a smile, but he relished seeing her crack under his gaze.

"What all can I get for you today?" he asked with a devilish grin in his eyes. He leaned on against the display, unable to resist any attempt to close the gap between them.

"Umm," she said, looking up to peek at the menu she had memorized just to give herself a break from his gaze. He took that time to peek at her ample bosom, drinking in the creaminess of the curves of her skin. He admired the softness of her neck, the curve towards her cheek. He always had the urge to pinch her. Of course, she grew pink without his pinch. He loved her tell. She could always feel herself growing warm but had no control over the physical manifestation of that spilled emotion. He grinned again and looked expectantly at her, standing at full attention.

"I'll have the Irish creme latte, extra shot. And I'll take a chocolate croissant," she mused.

"What else?" He said, wiggling his eyebrows. He bit his lip, now genuinely excited, no longer a part of his flirty show.

"A slice of the coffee cake, a big slice please. And a-" She pressed her lips together, and Matthew involuntarily leaned closer. "A salted caramel apple tart please! Thank you, Matthew."

"Of course, sugar," Matt started as he packaged the items, sneaking in extra chocolates and sweet treats. "You know, my birthday is this Friday..."

"Aw, congratulations! Do you know how you want to celebrate?"

"I do," Matt smirked, "In fact, that's why I brought it up. Do you remember when I first started working here? I gave you some speech about how you were beautiful and exactly my type and how I wanted to take you to or make you dinner?"

Ella bit back a giggle and admitted, "I do remember, yeah, the pastries began tasting better after you started."

"That's cause I started making them like you like them, darlin'. That's why the apple tart is a salted caramel apple tart now." Ella blushed and Matthew continued, "You said you couldn't entertain the notion, because you wouldn't even be able to have wine or a beer with me at dinner, on account of my age. Well, let it dawn on you that I am days away from being a 21-year-old grown man and my birthday wish is to spend it with you, on a date."

"Wow, I can't believe you remember that conversation,"

"I do."

"That's not really an ask though, is it?"

"You want me to beg, don't you?"

"Ask, beg, it's your choice. Might tip the scales though."

"You, my dear, are a very cheeky woman."

"Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky..." she murmured, and he immediately pictured all the full cheeks on her body, from her plump face to her plump ass.

"Ella," he breathed, leaning over the counter and sliding her her bag of baked goods. "Would you like to go out with me this weekend? I'd love to go to any spot with you."

She took the bag, and spoke slowly, "I would like to go out with you. I think you are an interesting guy. But I don't really date. Not really. Not exclusively, anyway."

"But you date?" he pressed.

"Well, yes."

"Date me."

She laughed and he couldn't help but jump in his jeans at the sight of her breasts jiggling against the fabric of her shirt.

"Okay, yes," she laughed again.

"Friday?" he asked.

"Yes, okay. Friday it is. I can already tell you, I want shrimp tacos on the beach. That's what I do nearly every Friday."

"It's a date, sweet thing."

**Part II**

Their date was fun and flirty, just like Matthew was. Ella showed up in a red one-piece with daisy duke shorts and a flowy white open shirt and Matthew could hardly keep his gaze decent. Her red lipstick helped him keep his attention on her face, though she enjoyed seeing him sneak a peek every once and a while. Once they began eating the few entrees Matthew bought for them to share, her red lipstick wore off and Matthew was instead entertained by capturing her mouth full, watching her methodically eat her food. Exactly as Ella thought, Matthew confessed to enjoying big women and watching women gain weight, stating that he discovered this by accident when a prior girlfriend's weight skyrocketed. Matthew spilled compliments regularly, in part because he couldn't help himself but also because he loved to see her blush. The way he spoke about her made her think that he was the worshipping type. Ella liked to be admired. Stated compliments never failed to flatter her but there was something so much more passionate about the look in a person's eyes when they drink you in, the hope in the husk of their uneven voice, the catch of their breath when you give them a taste of what they want.

Matthew's body language could not be more obvious. He was obsessed with her breasts. After much coaxing, he sheepishly admitted that he had a breastfeeding kink and wanted to test his theory that he could make a full-breasted woman create milk. As they stumbled into her nearby place, kissing, he explored her body with his hands. His sounds of desire were mixed with restraint and he looked at her, his question clear across his face.

She pushed his shaggy hair out of his face, and kissed him deeply, licking his lips, tasting his desire. He melted against the chubbiness of her lips. She straightened herself and said simply, "Yes."

He responded immediately. He began pushing off her clothes, stopping only to kiss more exposed flesh. She gasped from the kisses and from the cold. When he finally exposed her breasts, he took one long, lustful look and plunged his head down between her sizable globes. He breathed in her aroma and began licking her eagerly, near frantically. They both made a sound when he found her nipple. His suckle was urgent and tantalizing. She reached down to feel if his member's frame matched his lanky body. Instead, she found a dick that was thick enough to call fat and currently, rock solid. She reached up and down the shaft to inspect the veiny texture and he groaned into her breasts. His hardness was exceptional, as was his tongue and teeth expertly coaxing her nipples. She felt her wetness spill over and began moaning, throwing her head back in pleasure. She felt the familiar wash of delirium, the sexual trigger that pushed her into becoming a primal, pleasure-seeking creature above anything else. He continued to push away her clothing, running his hands over her massive curves, gripping her urgently. Once he peeled away her panties, he found her lips again and slid his hands gently to her slit. She gasped against his mouth the moment he touched her, and she felt him grin, satisfied, against her lips. He continued pressing, working magic with the tiny circles made by his deft fingers. Her liquid brimmed and he groaned when he found her slickness. He began kissing her more deeply, more passionately. He cupped her face and gripped her hair and began kissing his way down her body. She oscillated between breathy, ticklish giggles and desperate moans, especially in the sensitive areas of her neck, belly, and inner thighs. He crouched in front of her, looking up at her towering frame, curvy and pink and breathless, before diving between her legs with eager, well-placed licks. She nearly collapsed from the sensation of his skillset and held his head firmly for support, effectively pushing him deeper towards her anatomy. He complied happily, like an excited puppy, gripping her so that more of her mass and weight was distributed to his arms and shoulders. He made out with her clitoris and drank from her wetness like a man dying of thirst.

"You taste amazing, baby," he said between licks.

It was enough to push Elle over the edge, as her moans became frantic and urgent, scaling higher and causing her to press more intentionally on Matthew's face. He gripped her tighter and slipped two fingers in her flowing entrance and pressed on until he heard Elle cry out an orgasmic jumble of words including his name and desperate, breathy whines. Elle was barely regaining her breath when he guided her to her platform bed. It wasn't until that moment Elle had realized that Matthew was still fully dressed, although his hair was disheveled, his face was shiny, and his cock strained against his jeans like they may just bust the zipper. She dropped onto the edge of the bed facing him. Her nudity spilled over itself and her soft curves distracted him from any unrelated thoughts. His mind was fully occupied with drinking in her femininity, her romantic features, her impossibly soft vulnerability. He was mesmerized by the look of lust in her eyes and the cascade of her shiny hair down her many curves. She took his momentary captivation as an opportunity to begin tantalizing him, gently lowering his zipper and running her finger softly over his seams and hidden mass. She felt his dick jump and she smiled at his responsiveness. With his top button still closed, she began playing with him, nuzzling his impression, kissing his shaft over his jeans, and giving a tiny Eskimo kiss to his sensitive and enlarged tip. He groaned and cupped her soft chin. She smiled up at him innocently and finally snapped his button open. He nearly spilled out of his boxers, springing at full attention in front of her. She touched him with her fingertips, gently, and slowly worked her way up from sweet little licks to latching on to him and sucking him off like he was her personal pacifier. His groans were agonized and he struggled to keep himself from bursting in her sweet, salivating mouth. As he expected, her chubby lips and warm tongue felt like heaven, but he was tipped over by how wet her mouth was and how possessively she devoured him, holding on to his thighs and occasionally spilling her efforts onto his full and throbbing sack. He couldn't handle the sensations any longer; he pulled her head away gently, cupping her chin and dragging her away carefully by the hair he had entangled in his hands. He groaned watching her saliva create sticky pull lines from her lips to his cock. He pulled her up for a passionate kiss then grabbed her firmly by the soft center of her waist and turned her so that she spilled, kneeling at the foot of her queen-sized bed. Elle heard his gasp of astonishment, a flattering sound she had come to expect from men witnessing the beauty of her round ass perked up in the air just for them. She felt his strong hand grip her hip reverently, then, the heavy staff of his member pressing beyond her entrance. She gasped at his intruding size, then again as he slowly gave her more and more of his length. She cried when he bottomed out, not only for his fat mushroom cap that pressed deliciously on her cervix, but for his grateful, primal grunt and heavy balls that tickled her clitoris with their presence. He took a long moment to allow her to adjust to the fullness, relishing the feeling of her soft bottom pressed against his pelvis, then painstakingly began dragging himself in and out of her heavenly space. Despite her wetness, her insides felt tight and warm and Matthew could feel the micromovements of her insides milking him. He began to thrust harder, watching her ass ripple and bounce against him. Her sounds indicated she was growing to a desperate orgasm and he was committed to giving it to her. He gripped her harder and gave her his best steady stroke, ready to hold on through her inevitable orgasm. Sure enough, Elle clawed at the bed, cried out a mess, and stuttered and twitched on his still-hard cock.