Implied

Slacks laid neatly on the footstool, Ashleigh lounged on the couch. She’d lived in a hotel for several weeks now, visiting houses and properties damaged by storms. As an insurance adjustor, she found herself on the move all day every day. From 8pm and after, that time was hers. Still in her white, button-down blouse, she ditched her pants as soon as possible, revealing her silky pink panties. After several small sips from her glass of wine, her stomach gave a soft grumble and Ashleigh clutched it instinctively, paying the sound little mind. 

Hello there, old friend. It's me; don't be alarmed. No one else is here, they can't hear me anyway.

Now, I'd apologize for disturbing your slumber, but it already appears to be disturbed enough. You weren't sleeping. Maybe tossing and turning, tangling yourself in the sheets, perhaps, trying to exhaust yourself, but certainly not sleeping.

You seem unfulfilled, my dear. That's why I'm here. That's why I always arrive. You know that.

Now, I know you need your rest, but you also need your needs met, so let's get started, shall we?

Sonia was always a strange one, but we didn't know how strange until the five of us were together one day and the topic of secret talents came up. Cherry stems were tied with a tongue, fortunes were told with Tarot decks, and then she piped up, asking us if we wanted to see "something cool." We said yes, not knowing what were getting into, and she grinned and left the room, coming back with a bike pump connected to a long, trailing hose.

She’d been inflating herself for years. Since November of her sophomore year in high school, to be exact. Emma could remember the first time she came across the fetish online. Seeing all those girls with their beautiful, swollen bellies had gotten her curious, and she’d decided to try it out. And once she was filled up with air, nice and big, she knew this was all that she wanted.