Jeans Bulge Novels & Stories

They were a soft, pastel pink color, made of an insanely stretchy, comfortable fabric with an elastic waistband. I pulled them out, eyeing them dubiously. "You've got to be kidding me." I didn't have a choice. I stepped into them, pulling the fabric up my legs. Because of the heavy elastic band and the intentionally oversized, baggy cut, the pants actually stretched to fit my waist properly, though they ended a few inches above my ankles, clinging tightly to my thighs and showing off the massive bulge of my groin. I looked like a giant, dangerous hockey player dressed in a teenage girl's sleepwear.

She didn't want to rip the dress, so she had to be satisfied with her breasts busting out of the top. "Um, Mr. Ajeet?" She called from behind the curtain. She heard him shuffle over. "Yes?" She could see his sandal-clad feet from under the curtain. "I can't go out there, the dress is too small." Jeanie whined. "Miss, that is precisely why you are here, is it not? You are here to have the dress let-out in the bust and taken-in at the waist. If it fit you properly, you wouldn't need my services."

I signed in relief. "No" They said at the same time. "Definitely not, this dress is squeezing my boobs dry and it's waist is gripping me like a pregnant snake. Help me I can not move in it".Ella and Jessa helped me to remove the dress. I took a deep puff of air .

I fumbled with the button, my fingers shaky, then tugged the zipper down with a rasp, hooking my thumbs into the waistband and pushing the jeans over my hips inch by inch. The material dragged against my skin, bunching at my thighs, and since I hadn’t put on panties today, my bare ass was right there, smooth and exposed, the cool air in the room hitting my pussy lips and making them tingle a bit. I glanced back over my shoulder, seeing his eyes get darker, fixed on me, and I noticed the bulge starting to grow in his shorts. “Is this what you want?” My voice came out breathy, quieter than I meant.

When she zipped them up and buttoned the top, she turned to the mirror to see the effect. Absolute perfection! These jeans were so tight that if she had a dime in her pocket, you could read the date. She took the tails of the silk top and tied them in a bow, showing off her six-pack rippled belly. She looked at herself again and though there is something missing. Then she had it, she went to her jewelry box and selected her most expensive piece out of the top drawer. It was a platinum belly ring with a two carat blue star sapphire pendant. She slipped it into an almost closed hole and then walked over to the mirror again. YES! The silk top, the star sapphire belly ring, and the super skintig

I didn't bring anything with me because of her too, so I went straight to his house. I took a clean underwear, then the biggest pair of jeans and then the loosest blouse I could find. Zetta tends to be thinner than me, and she likes to wear clothes that fit her body... so if I wear clothes that fit her, my address is already like wearing a condom! The shirt clings to the body. Not funny at all! The baggy jeans, once worn, actually fit my body, a little tight in the thighs and buttocks, fortunately the blouse could cover those thighs and buttocks, because it was quite long... up to the half thigh, a navy blouse with short sleeves and a neck opening like a net.

she went on as she hopped into her jeans. Sputtering through a breath and flaming red, she replied, "I didn't...I...Did he tell you that?" Dena laid back on the bed to force the button of her jeans through the hole and tug up the zipper. "No, I was listening through the door, stupid." Once she got her pants fastened, she lay there, panting. "Modern fashion is going to kill me one of these days." "I don't know why you wear those things. You realize that skinny jeans were in style when we were like nine, don't you?"

When I breathe, the lace moves with me, not against me. The jean skirt sits high on my waist, right at that narrow point where my body naturally curves in. The wide belt anchors it there, the oversized buckle drawing the eye to my way instead of my hips. My thighs fill the skirt completely—no gaps, no pretending otherwise. It’s short, yeah, but it doesn’t look wrong. It fits my thick thighs and makes them look really good.

As she gazed into the full-length mirror in front of the closet, I let out a sigh. She was topless, just wearing her bra, and she held her jeans up to her waist. She gave a sigh of surrender while squinting. "My jeans don't fit well." She was having trouble zipping up her belly because it was in the way, so I watched her. "Put on something different." I said as I leaned against the doorframe. "Wear anything else? I can't believe I didn't come up with that! She scoffed, placing her hands on her waist in a fit of pique. Damn, I'm on thin ice.

They argue differently than Mama did with Christos, but it reminds me all the same. My stomach kills. Not like I’m going to throw up—thankfully—but between the food baby resulting from dinner and baby, these pants really don’t fit. Sneakily, I unfasten the button and drape my shirt over it. I’m not really showing enough for people to notice, but my jeans definitely have.