Jeans Bulge Novels & Stories

I let out a soft groan, hoping to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort, but it persisted. I tried to get up from the bed, hoping it would ease the pain, but before I could fully rise, I found myself sitting back down. The bulge in my stomach was unmistakable, so I decided to change into a dress for more comfort. However, lying down didn't bring any relief, so I hoped that sitting or standing would help alleviate what I was feeling.

My waist looked impossibly small, my hips curved like they had been sculpted by the goddess herself, and my ass…okay, that deserved its own applause. “Since when did I have that?” I whispered, twisting left and right. Sylvara laughed so hard I could almost feel it. “You’ve always had it, sweetheart. You just never had the clothes to notice it.” I bit my lip, still staring at the reflection. “And these jeans? They’re doing the goddess’s work.” “Human clothes are dangerous, Eve.” “Dangerous for who?” “For everyone who looks at you.” I burst out laughing, still blushing like crazy. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Go put this on, and be careful with it, rookie.” I frowned immediately. The size tag didn’t match the measurements I’d sent them last week. “Is this the right pair?” I asked, raising a brow. The stylist didn’t even bother to look at me. She just waved me off. “Of course, yeah. She’s petite, it’ll fit. Models squeeze all the time.” Kylie took the jeans with both hands, gave me a nod, and went to change. Not even two minutes later, I heard her gasp, followed by a sharp rip.

The neckline was high, too, almost up to my chin, shielding me from prying eyes. The jeans were equally comfortable, made of stretchy denim that hugged my curves without feeling tight or restrictive. They were a faded blue, with a slight flare at the bottom, giving me a casual yet stylish look. I slipped them on,pulledg them up over my hips, and fastened the button with a sigh of relief.

After an impatient yank, it finally surrendered, and a pair of faded, torn jeans exploded forth, nearly smacking me in the face. Choosing the absurdly tiny bathroom to change in just in case Adam came back, I pulled on the shirt, feeling the snugness across my shoulders—a reminder that I was broader than Adam. The jeans settled onto my hips, just loose enough to provide comfort while still clinging to my frame. However, their length was a problem; they hung considerably lower than they should have, pooling around my ankles like a gentle reminder of their former owner. Yet, I didn't mind the way they dragged.

I felt a trickle of perspiration run down a rivulet between my breasts. She had no belt on her jeans; she’d been relying on her curves to keep them up. She loosed the brass button at her waist and unzipped the fly. Staring into my eyes, she slowly pushed the jeans down over her hips with a little wiggle and let them drop around her ankles. I realized I was breathing in short, shallow gasps. I was transfixed by her display.

Riley whispered. Jade’s jeans hit the floor with a soft thud. She wasn’t wearing boxers—just black briefs that hugged the bulge between her legs. Riley dropped to her knees, tugged the waistband down. Jade’s cock sprang free—five and a half inches, thick, uncut, the head flushed dark and already leaking. Her balls were drawn tight; a faint happy trail led from her navel down to coarse auburn curls.

JACQUELINE I’d never taken so long to pick an outfit for school. Not even on presentation days. I stood in front of the mirror, twisting from side to side, watching the way my jeans curved over my hips and hugged my thighs. They were my favorite pair, slightly faded at the knees, tight in all the right places, and if I was being honest, they made my ass look about twenty percent bigger than it really was. Which, in this case, was the whole point.

My cheeks were no longer hollow but filled out, my curves were fuller, and my thighs had become thicker. Thankfully, my tummy stayed flat. “Shit!” I cursed as dressed number eight couldn't get past my thick thighs. Blowing off a breath, I rummaged through my closet until I found an old pair of jeans and T-shirt. I rarely wore jeans because my fiancé didn't like then but I hoped Massimo would let it go this time until I went shopping again. Sending a prayer to God, I squeezed into my jean trousers and luckily for me, it fit. Same with the t-shirt so I was good to go. Tying my hair in a ponytail, I wore tennis shoes and with a sigh, went down the stairs for breakfast.

“Where the hell do you shop? The Salvation Army? Your grandma’s closet?” I groan. “Can you help me?” She pulls out a pair of fitted high-waisted jeans and a simple white T-shirt. When I put them on, my eyes widen. “Whoa… look at my butt.” She laughs. “Girl, you need to buy at least ten pairs of those jeans. I didn’t know you had all that back there.” She adds a distressed oversized denim jacket. “Cute. Simple. When that jacket comes off, though? Your body is singing, because that thang you got back there is thanging.”