The sun streaming into Haley's bedroom struck her face and forced her to wake. She squinted angrily and tried to roll onto her side, and found that she was either too weak, too heavy, or both. Before the bloated brunette could process this situation, her nostrils flared at the scents of French toast wafting up from the first floor.
Her immobility woes forgotten, Haley rolled onto her side with newfound strength and urgency. The momentum of her mountainous belly would have carried her all the way off the bed, if it weren't for the counter-balance of her substantial rump. The overfed undergrad hefted herself to a seated position, stretching two fleshy arms skyward and causing her (formerly) oversized sleep shirt to slid up under her bosom and expose every inch of her vast stomach.
Haley pulled the shirt back down futilely, and smacked her lips while lightly scratching the skin of her lap-filling tummy hungrily. It took a few tries to propel her body off the bed and to a standing position, Haley was pretty sure she was still a little full from last night. Nonetheless the smell of breakfast was calling to her like a siren's song, and she hastily grabbed fresh clothes for the day.
Fresh bra and panties went on first, and the way they dug into her flesh told Haley she needed to size up both really soon. Next were some stretchy pants that were basically leggings, these she managed to slide over her ass with some difficulty. Last was a billowy top that hugged her relatively modest breasts while flowing loosely over her growing middle.
Decently clothed at last, Haley made the arduous journey down to the kitchen. She didn't notice how close her hips were getting to the frame of her bedroom door as she exited the room. Step by step she waddled down the hallway and to the stairs, taking them one at a time as she couldn't see the steps past the horizon of her gut.
Finally arriving in the kitchen, Haley saw there was already a platter loaded up with half a loaf's worth of battered and fried bread.
"Good morning, Haley!" Mrs. West greeted her daughter warmly. "Hurry up and sit down, I don't want you to be late and your breakfast will get cold."
"Morning mama," Haley said, easing herself into her favorite old chair. "Is Tara up yet?"
Mrs. West had returned already with a plate, an entire pitcher of maple syrup, and a large shaker of powdered sugar.
"Oh no sweetie, your sister said she still didn't feel one hundred percent and decided to head back to Charleston a day early."
Haley raised an eyebrow at the stack of French toast that was already enough for 4-6 normal adults, but she had never balked at her mother's recent quirk of over-nurturing, and wasn't about to start now. Mrs. West slid four slices onto the plate she carried, doused them in syrup, dusted them with enough sugar to look like a plate of snow, then slid the plate in front of her daughter as she bellied up to the table.
** 40 minutes later **
"Alright sweetie, last ones!"
Haley's mother plopped three more slices of French toast onto her plate. If she left this very instant Haley would already be late for class, but the smell once again forestalled any protests. The last few drops were dribbled onto her slices, though fortunately the plate was still flooded with liquid sugar from her previous helpings. The beer-can sized sugar shaker which had been full when she started was over half empty before Mrs. West dispensed another liberal layer of processed white sweetness.
Haley dug in with gusto once more, separating large chunks of fried bread soaked and doused in sugar and cramming them into her mouth and down into her tummy with their siblings. Her formerly billowy blouse was drawn tight over the zenith of Haley's increasingly spherical belly, and a sliver of pale flesh could be seen just below its hem.
When at last Haley's Herculean breakfast was consumed, she needed her mother's help levering herself to her feet, then began her slow waddle to the door.
"Wait, Haley, I packed you some lunch!"
She was just about out the door when Haley's mother brought her an entire backpack sized cooler bag.
"Mom, what–"
"It's just lunch baby, and some snacks. I don't want you going hungry while you're busy learning!"
Haley hefted the bag, and herself, into her car. Struggling into the driver's seat, her overfed stomach was still precariously close to the steering wheel, so she reached with considerable effort to the lever below and slid the seat back to its furthest notch. Peaking briefly into the bag, she saw it held several substantial sandwiches, cups of pudding, an entire quart of chocolate milk, and several large containers of brownies, cookies, and cupcakes.
"When did she have time to make all this?" Haley wondered idly, putting her car in gear and adding a brownie to her full-term food baby.
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