“…I’ll get ssomething to eat, I’m actually quite famished right now.”
“This way then” She answered, taking your hand and leading you into the Buffet Hall.
Inside, you began to salivate at the rows upon rows of towering foodstuffs. Pork, beef, chicken, turkey, sandwiches, chips, salads. Too much to even count. Some picking put choice items for consumption, but most were displaying far less grace, shovelling what they could grab into their mouths.
Not that you paid it any mind with the hunger growing by the second, already at a table and stuffing your own face to no end.
“Enjoying it?” She asked as you wolfed down three sandwiches at once.
“Mmm Mmph.” You mumble out before swallowing. “Ssay, I never did catch your name.”
“Monica.”
“Sam.” You reply as you grab a chicken leg.
You and Monica continue your small talk as you eat. But dimly, in the back of your mind, you begin to notice some oddities about this whole thing.
Everyone here eating hadn’t taken their masks off to eat, yet had no trouble feasting, the same applying to yourself. Another detail you slowly picked up on was that by now, several of the revellers had started undressing, and that the face masks were looking more like full costumes, if the shirt (and only an open shirt) tiger and snake lady (based on her breasts) dressed solely in open high-heels were anything to go by. In the latter instance, she’d clearly eaten so much that it had caused her stomach to bloat out considerably, making her appear to be perhaps eight months pregnant.
Not that you were free from guilt in that area, having opened your shirt at the front to let your own distended gut out.
“Someone was hungrry.” Monica growled out, with a smile on her own face.
“I wass.” You replied, failing to notice the hissing lisp you’d developed, or her rumbling growl, the fact that one of her breasts was now free you did realise. “But, why are you, the othersss…?”
“Oh, that?” Monica looked around to deduce what you were implying. “Clothing’s optional at this parrty, so feel frree to let it out if you want.” To emphasis her point, she pulled the strap off her shoulder to free her other breast, letting her dress hang around her waist.
“O-kay.” Odd, but something to keep in mind.
“In any case. The next dance should be starting rreal soon. Do you want to go therre? Rest up? Or keep stuffing yourr face?” Monica made the last point with a smirk.