Prose that Blows 11 - It's All About the Feels

Elizabeth was walking through the neighborhood on a sunny day wearing light blue underwear, a light blue bra, black jeans and a yellow button up shirt. She was heading to the park because the most happiest thing happened there. She met a nice boy named Stevie who she now adores and has a crush on. She couldn’t keep her mind off of him until she turned a corner and saw him talking to some friends. She hid behind the corner wall and stared at him. She felt her heart beat faster, she started blushing and she felt her love for him getting bigger and bigger.

It’s really simple.

We lay in the park, drunk with ethnic motives of the planet. Musicians of all skin colours change one another. Her stomach starts growing. “How do you do that?” – I ask lightly. She shrugs and spreads hands wider on the grass, eyes locked on the stage: “Endocrinologist told me this is not dangerous”. I embrace her slowly ballooning tummy. She grows more relaxed and rounded. We smile at each other. I crawl to sit behind and around her, to support her frame – the pose is more intimate than intended, but it relaxes her even more.

“So, how do you like wearing a zentai suit?”

She’s giggling, and smirking. I love that smirk. And the glasses, and the brown hair. This is finally happening.

“It’s uh… yeah, it’s interesting. I like it.”

What? I mean ‘this is kinda hot.’ Me watching her wearing her suit, seeing how it hugs her… everywhere. Bust, thighs, back, belly… mmm, that belly. Just chubby enough, but fit too. God, she’s got a great body.