Peter had been convinced that bigger than everyone else would be embarrassing; people constantly staring and people whispering behind his back. But as he and Joce strolled through the mall, he was finding more and more he was enjoying the attention. 10 feet offered a whole new view of the world, and 500 pounds of pure rock muscle caused his entire stance to change.
Joce wasn't exactly anonymous herself, either. 6 feet tall now, her rather athletic body wasn't anything to compare to Peter's muscle mass, but still better than any other girl around, and complimented by golden blond hair that ended just above her rear. The legs seemed to go on forever, ending heart shaped butt that made her short skirt almost indecent. But the achievement of this sculpted goddess was the chest in front, that Peter had quite a view of. Each breast was basketball sized, amazingly perky, and bounced even in her custom bra as she walked.
They were the model couple- literally. Joce modeled lingerie and bras for a ladies wear company, and was being actively pursued by several major companies. Peter could be seen in almost every major muscle magazine on the shelves. He was the local celebrity- several tourists stopped them and asked for photos with them.
Peter gladly posed for them, and found himself enjoying flexing his massive arms and showing off his growing body.
And it was definitely still growing. Joce, admiring him and sensing his enjoyment every time he flexed, bumped up his muscle mass. By noon, he'd gained another 150 pounds, his clothes practically painted on, straining when he breathed in too deeply.
By that time, though, Peter had found the ravenous hunger of the morning returning, even worse than before. They entered the food court, and Peter found himself being crowded by various vendors, all shoving large plates of foot onto a oversized tray.
Joce smile when he finally joined her at a table. "They all want you seen eating their food! Of course they're going to give it to you for free- you bring in several hundred dollars of promotions every time you eat!"
Peter had to admit this made sense, but this was three times what he had eaten breakfast. Soon, though, the smell of the food in front of him pushed all thoughts aside save abating his ravenous hunger.
By the fifth plate, he had undone his fly due to the pressure of his now even tighter jeans. By the fifteenth plate, the sound of splitting seams went unnoticed. By the twentieth he was vaguely aware that the table had moved farther away than before.
When he was done, he leaned back and patted the top of his stomach. The metal chair groaned in protest, despite being specially reinforced for Peter's eating habits.
Peter grinned; his gut was now huge, taut, wobbling mass attached to his muscular body. It practically as wide as he was tall, and sitting, it brushed the floor. The top foot of his jeans were now in tatters, and his shirt had ridden up to his pecs to make room for the distended stomach. He was full, though, and more importantly, he was HUGE.
There was something arousing about being so large to Peter- muscle or gut.
For a few minutes he just reveled in feeling his own giant gut, making it wobble as he stroked it.
But then, the tingle from before started again in the pit of his distended stomach....