Love the idea about the friends coming over 👀 it got me thinking, what if all those friends also had hunger kinks?
They try to hide it when my tummy rumbles in front of them. One friend glances at my starving tummy and licks her lips. Another smirks, asking if I could help them with something on their computer. I lean down, my navel right next to their ear as I begin to explain to them. They partly listen to me, but their mind is mainly thinking about how loud my bare belly is, now that it's right next to them.
Soon, lunch is served, and I don't eat anything, even as my tummy rumbles loudly. Our friends talk about how oh so scrumptious the food is, and my middle groans even louder for sustenance. The aromas are torture. The friend next to me asks me to pass a dish, and I get up and do so, my belly roaring near her face. She glances up at my hollow tummy, enjoying the view.
Next, we play a few games. One of them is truth or dare. I say, "dare". The second friend smirks and says, "put a microphone to your belly." The first friend agrees, and I blush as I find the device, switch it on, and press the cool metal to my ravenous stomach. A loud roar echoes throughout the room. Our friends smile and giggle, and I blush deeply on seeing them gazing at my starving belly. Maybe we realise that they have hunger kinks. Only time will tell...
I named the two friends! 😅
The one friend, Pierre, asks you in a light French accent to help look something up on YouTube. From the moment your tummy gets into range, he can hear it. His ears perk up, and his mind forgets what he wanted to show you.
"Ze, uuuhhhh...... password, dear." Pausing while you lean over him, tummy rumbling.
"I gotchu!" You incorrectly put in the password the first time going too fast.
After getting in the second time, "I hope you didn't see that!"
"No, but I hear that!" With his hand at his chest, he points to your boisterous bare belly.
"Oh! Tee!" Giggling, while you cover your face with your hands. "So, what'd d'you want t'show me?" Swaying your hips.
"Y-uh-a-YouTube video!" Fumbling his words.
"Sure thing!" You pull up YouTube. Since it's already logged in, it shows videos it thinks we want to see. This time, it's a load of food channels. Your mouth waters, as you swallow an empty promise, your middle howling something fierce.
"That sure look good... I've never had real curry." Although clearly not curry, he hovers over a Asian channel and it begins to play a woman stuffing red noodles and hard-boiled eggs in her mouth. With drool ready to drip on Pierre, you remind him that he's supposed to show you a video. He searches some funny cat videos and you two spend some time laughing about them.
Mere and I prepare the lunch we're all supposed to have. They brought goodies from their garden, while I make a flavored mayo to go on the sandwiches.
"It's times like this I wish I could just... bite into this head of lettuce, plastic and all."
I turn around, a little shocked by the conversation opener. Dressed in a white long sleeved, v-neck crop top, she's holding the plastic wrapped produce and her stomach.
"A wee bit hungry, are you?"
"Yeah, Pierre didn't get up until about 11. I was waiting for him to get up so we could eat together. I got a little distracted, as I was counting on him to wake up in time. So we left without breakfast." She empties out a bag onto the counter, "I need a strainer so I can wash these tomatoes!"
" 'scuse me." Crouching beside her, I hear the moaning of her guttural abyss.
"I'm sorry! She's trying to embarrass me!" Patting her noisy belly.
"It's quite alright, my partner's tummy seems talks to me more than she does!" I laugh, "I'm kidding of course!"
"Ours are always hollering at us! From forgetting meals, to eating unhealthily, our ears sure take a beating!"
I've knelt here for a few moments, seemingly lost.
"The strainer, Ben." Mere's green eyes burn into my soul.
Crumbling whatever dream I had brewing, I swiftly place the perforated bowl in the sink.
"Though we should try our ingredients... we ought to save every bit so everyone can enjoy it together." Mere declares, contradicting her earlier leafy desire.
"Apparently, I'm the only one to have had any breakfast. I'll be fine!"
Working well without communicating very much, simply aware of each others' actions, the kitchen is momentarily engulfed in controlled chaos.
My hands are occupied when she asks for something that happens to be above my head. I motion to where it is, and as her reach stretches her abdomen, it roars demanding a preemptive treat.
"That was really hot..." I whisper.
"What?" Mere asks honestly, as she makes a ruckus trying to grip something on the top shelf.
"That was really loud!" Forcing a laugh.
"Oh, yeah, I felt that one!" Returning to her task. "Getting really hungry!" Oddly, in an excited tone.
The two of you walk in giggling in talking about some silly kitty you just witnessed.
Pierre states, "I don't know about you guys but," he lifts up his polo and audibly pats his humble chub. "I'm ready to eat!"
He seats himself at the dining table. You bring plates to the table before sitting down. Mere and I bring the ingredients and place then all down the "build-you-own-sandwich." All the fixings on separate plates, a couple choices of bread. Various cheese, meats, and vegetables leave no speck of wooden table uninhabited.
Pierre digs in first, while Mere and I delicately build our masterpieces. You, however, look longingly at the buffet.
Since we're diligently fabricating, and Pierre is focused on leaving no scraps. You're able to remain unnoticed until Mere asks you to pass a dish. Somehow, there's no tomatoes left. Pierre has three slices on his plate, one in his mouth, and the rest on his second sandwich.
Turning to the culprit you receive a comment,
"What?" He playfully barks, "They're deliciously grown in our backyard! And your partner's seasoned mayo is perfection!" Chomping, as you travel to the kitchen.
You have to cut more slices. Being famished, it's hard to maintain control, so you take longer than expected. Still distracted, Mere happily thanks you.
"Hey!" getting you to stop. She quickly admires your slender body. In this short time, your stomach hollers.
"I'm sorry!" scurrying to your seat in humility. After you sit at an empty plate, Mere finally notices, and asks
"Where's your sandwich? You must be starved!"
"Yeah! -'s real' g-d!" Pierre sort of says with his mouth full.
"Gross Pierre!" I scold him, "quit being so barbaric!"
"Does this dirty Frenchman bother the prude American?" Maximizing his frenchiness.
"Nooo.." I sigh, "food is only pretty before its eaten."
"Then," He takes a large bite, "D-n't l-k!"
I groan, as the ones with food continue to eat.
Using the oldest trick in the book, you excuse yourself, and retreat to the bathroom to listen to your body try to convince you to feed it.
Timed well with when our bellies satiate, you reappear to help clear the table. Although we don't wash the dishes, we at least transport them near the sink.
Returning to the clean table, we set up our first set of party games. With your hunger momentarily absent, we're able to get quite a few games done.
The party moves to the living room where everyone plops themselves in a seat.
We talk a bit about noteworthy events in our lives before you blurt out, in an effort to hide more tummy embarrassment,
"Let's play truth or dare!"
"O-Okay?" Accepting of the request, but equally irked from being interrupted.
Reaching a lull after the popular questions, Mere finally addresses the elephant in the room.
"What's with the mic attached to the TV?
"I, uh, I-it-it's from work!" I stammer.
"No, but like, what's it for...?" Both Pierre and Mere edge their seats, as your eyes widen.
"Come on, you gotta tell us!" Pierre toys, "you picked truth!"
After a moderate exhale, I affirm, "It's to listen to our tummies when they're being noisy. Now," shifting in my seat to spin the bottle. It lands on Pierre, "I dare you to use it."
He grabs it off the center table and I flick on the entertainment system.
His belly is stuffed, and is seemingly very happy about it. Countless pops and squelches fill the room. For about a minute he allows the mic to amplify his vigorously churning gut, before spinning the bottle.
"I was hoping it'd land on you." He gets up and hands it over to you. "Do it."
Blushing, you oblige. You stuff the mic into your tummy, constricting it even more. Vehement, ravenous, and mournful howls blare out the sound system. We all avidly enjoy the decadent desperate discord for a decent duration before it dies down.
You gingerly spin the bottle. It lands between Mere, but plainly favoring Pierre.
"Are you guys... into this?"
Giving me a look, I somehow read your mind. I bring up a recording.
Skipping through a few, I stop on one that has an still image of me with one hand holding up a shirt, and the other covering my belly button.
"This was close, but not quite, three days. It's an edited five minute video."
After, I play a similar still, but of you.
"Ah yes, I fasted for," Holding up your hand, "Five days! FIVE!! I really did!"
"Yeah! It was really incredible! It starts with a couple on day two, but it's mostly the following days!" Mere's mouth is agape, Pierre's been squirming in his seat since he handed you the mic.
"Pierre," slapping his thigh, "That, was sexy. Why can't mine ever beg like that!?"
"Probably because after the first night, you turn into Godzilla!" Pierre harshly retorts. "I, however, can go more than one measly night!"
"To me, it's the first night that's the biggest hurdle." I confess. "She," directing a thumb your way, "seems to have little issue being, and staying empty."
A rosy smile confirms it to be true.
"Even though it landed on Pierre, I'm spinning it" it stops just past Pierre. She blows at the nose, causing it to roll ever so slightly.
"Eh, it was for the sentiment," she shrugs, "let's all go out for "dinner," and not feed her." Using her fingers and quotes.
"Sounds good to me!" I laugh, you quietly chuckle, while Pierre is silent.
"Oh come now, Pierre." Mere frivolously pegs at him, "They're nice people, don't be ashamed!" Nudging him with an elbow.
"Hah! Gotcha!" He leaps up and points at you.
"Let's tell the server it's your birthday!!"
You, we, are unsure if that was a request or a joke.
Is it? Surely we'll go someplace where they would make a big spectacle for a birthday. Will you deny the free dessert? Maybe we'll just eat it instead. 😈
In the evening, my tummy would cave in and howl. You'd lie down beside me with your arms around my waist, feeling the rumbles. My belly would groan as I'd try to get to sleep.
Try..
It'd be very hard to focus on sleeping, as my mind would begin to think of anything but to feed you 😈
I'd even withhold breakfast from you
Unless...
Your tummy put on a loud performance, begging for its first meal 🫠
Though you seemed to enjoy me pretending not to notice the first time. Let's go to a public place and let your belly cry out to strangers while I ignore it 🤭
I loved that response! Now I'm imagining the window being left open for the smell of barbeque from the cookout to waft through the living room. I clutch my bare belly before removing my hand and letting you rub it. My tummy growls loudly well into the evening. At night, it's hollow. You spend an hour stroking and teasing my roaring belly. I gasp as you kiss it, my stomach rumbling ferociously against your lips.
Finally, when you fall asleep and I find my eyes drooping, I know my starving tummy will be even hungrier in the morning...
Jolted awake by a crash in the kitchen. Before you're able to conjure the will to investigate, I call out,
"I'm alright! Everything is FINE."
Just as you start getting nestled into your cocoon of warm bedding, you smell burning.
"Honey, are you sure?"
"YeEE-EEssss!" Still making a racket.
In the midst of the audible chaos, a coffee is brought to you. Though, it's in a small mug. You tilt you head to the side when I look at you. Answering the unspoken question,
"I've burnt the first batch of toast... But! Do not worry!" Scurrying away before you can inquire any further.
You decipher this ruckus is me creating wonderful plates of breakfast for the two of us. Maybe some [turkey] sausage or bacon. Some non-burnt toast with avocado slices. The aroma of the brew and the daydream reinvigorate an appetite you've had for hours. You feebly fill the ravenous void with coffee, though the caffeine does wake your mind.
With an empty cup and gut, you go to the kitchen. To your dismay, I've started to devour what seems to be a breakfast for one.
With the most adorably sad look, you plea.
"But... but I thought you said I'd get to eat today..."
"I did... but I didn't say when... did I?" I say, making a chunk of pineapple disappear behind my lips.
By this point, there's a small cup of cottage cheese left. You walk up beside me rubbing your tummy, whose deafening howls cause me to freeze with the spoon in my mouth.
"Please, one bite.." you say, swaying, expertly timed with your growly tummy.
"You make it SO hard to say no."
I turn so you can't see the bowl. After a tedious moment, I get one single curd on the spoon and offer it to you.
"Here, for such a good tummy."
Hesitant, you wonder if I'm joking. Surely you deserve more than one damn curd.
Scooping a little more on, I take the bite for myself.
"Oh well. I thought you wanted some."
Some...? How could he say some?
You dare ask,
"Co-Could I have a second cup?"
"Hmmm." I take another bite, leaving one decent sized one left.
"Orrr.. You can have the rest of this."
Presented with a daunting question, you pause to ponder, while I start to gather the cheesy remainder. The motion causes you to cry out,
"I want that!"
A subtle desperation in your voice sends shivers down my spine. With the spoon full and transferred over, you take the first and only bite in over a day.
"I hope you are satisfied, because our friends will he here soon."
It had slipped your mind. We were to have company over at noon.
"It's after eleeveeen."
As you rush away, I yell out, "you better be showing some tummy!"
I prepare more fruit for the smoothies we are to have with our friends while you get ready. I've gotten all but one strawberry in its container when you long-step up beside me.
"Whatcha dooooin'?" Asking as you peer around me.
"Cuttin" up lunch!" Topping the berries.
"I see you left one... is for me?" Putting two fingers together then twisting.
"Nope!" Swiftly eating and struggling to swallow.
"YOU DON'T EVEN LIKE STRAWBS!!" Moving back a step.
"Wellll..." I move behind you and place both hands on your middle. "You didn't ask nicely."
As a soft kiss lands on your neck, the doorbell rings.
"I'll get that, if you put the fruit away." Turning you around so you see my finger pointed at you, "You better be good and not even lick a single seed off a strawb!"
I run to the door, that's now been rung twice.
Do you obey? In this moment I'd have no way of knowing if you ate any fruit.
How are we to entertain our guests? Some type of [board] game? Mario Party? Charades?
That story you wrote was so hot! Thank you for writing it! If it's alright, I'd like to continue it a bit:
I look at you pleadingly, hoping for something to eat. But you lead me to the car, smirking as my belly howls. I gulp, blushing on feeling your hand against my starving tummy. We get into the car, and you begin to drive home.
"Get out the microphone," you smile. I rub my bare belly before doing so. I plug it into the usb socket and place it against my hungry tummy. My famished middle roars into the microphone. You sigh happily, enjoying the loud growls and the view the now cut playsuit gives of my exposed stomach. The window is rolled down when we pass a fish and chips shop. My belly howls and my mouth waters as the aroma wafts into the car. You smirk again, slowing down as we begin to pass the drive thru. "You want something to eat?"
I nod eagerly. You stroke my bare belly. "Too bad," you tease. "Tomorrow you can eat."
I blush as my tummy loudly protests your command. You merely chuckle and continue on home, making sure my starved belly can take in all the delicious smells coming from the food shops...
As if the restaurants weren't enough torment, our neighbors are holding a cookout. With tons of cars parked on the street, you're forced to endure BBQ smells.
Distracted by kids playing in the front, you're unaware I've turned up the volume. I slow to a crawl, as your tummy howls again. Startling both of us, from the sheer boosted volume. A soccer ball hits a kid in the head because all have turned towards the street wondering what that sound was.
"Go around..." you sheepishly ask, as you rub your tummy attempting to reduce its tantrum.
I do turn the volume down, as the mic picks up the less volatile rumbles. I almost oblige, out of mercy, but...
I pull into our driveway... directly next to the party.
The parents corral their kids, so they down overwhelm us as we exit the car. The three neighbor kids strut over, after the parents permit them to.
"Did you have a good date?!?" The little boy asks, "I bet he bought you a nice dinner!"
"Where?! Are the roses!?"
One girl pouts, stomping her feet. Her twin simultaneously does the same face and stomp then adds,
"Every pretty girl deserves flowers, that's what our parents say!"
Their dad comes strolling over, seemingly the mastermind behind this encounter.
"Alright kiddos, that's enough. Go back to your mother."
"But dad! I want to know where they went!"
"Yeah, and how come she didn't get any flo-"
Everyone's attention turns to you, and your stomach erupting in hunger.
With you paralyzed with shame, I tell them,
"We've come home for dinner. We tried this fish n chips shack but it was DISGUSTING!! I demanded a refund and we stormed out of there."
"I really can't wait to eat... ha ha!" You haven't removed your hands from your achy belly since you got in the car. You take a couple steps towards the door,
"Oh! But we had a blast at the mall! We didn't buy anything, but we enjoyed plenty of shenanigans there, and downtown. It's hard to traverse down there now, with all the construction."
"Yeah... tell me about it." He scratches the back of his head, "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." He walks away with his kids in tow.
We only make it a few steps before the boy reminds his father about the fish.
"Say!" Stopping the parting parties, "Where'd find that awful fish! I'll have to keep away from it!"
I look at you, like you'd remember the name of the place you didn't eat at. You stammer, as I blurt out,
"Ron's Crab Shack!"
"Oh... haven't heard it."
Probably because it doesn't exist
"Good night, Mister Smith. Oh, and extend it your family, huh?"
Laughing as though he got the dad joke, we finally enter our home as they return to playing outside.
Now finally alone the two of us find anything to do except make dinner. We tidy up the house a bit before we head to the living room, to relax. I work at a local theater doing audio, giving me access and / or the know-how to use various gadgets. I've bought tiny adhesive wireless mics that we've attached to our bellies. The surround system is capable of connecting to our phones, as well as the mics. We use an app to monitor whose mic is picking up sounds.
After such a night, would you be able to rest? I can find some difficulties sleeping painfully hollow, as one would be in this scenario.
I have a playsuit I sometimes wear when it's warm. The fabric is cool and soft, so imagining a scenario where my tummy is rumbling with hunger in it is definitely nice. Maybe someone could pull down the top half of the playsuit, revealing my roaring belly...or cut it in half when I'm not wearing it, so it becomes a crop top and shorts set, exposing my starving stomach for all to see...
You and your partner just finished your daily workouts. The two of you planned to go out today, and you decide that since your playsuit kept you from overheating, then it'll keep you cool from the scorching summer sun.
After driving a shirt distance, passing many fast food places, we arrive in the "downtown" area. We make our way through boujee boutiques to sketchy thrift shops. With those being too extreme, the mall is our new destination.
The food court tempts our noses, as our objective is to fool around in target. Separated by glass, we momentarily peer into the reverie of numerous and diverse food shops.
Shaking our heads to snap out of the daydream, we then make our way into a "big name" department store. We frolick up and down aisles with no intentions of purchasing anything. After playing with some kiddie toys, you sprint for the arts and crafts section with me trailing close behind. When I catch my breath, I tell you to cover your eyes with both your hands and to not remove them no matter what. Skeptical yet giggling, you comply. The sounds of fabric being cut quickly reveal what is happening.
I tell you to look, and your tummy has been exposed! I hide the excess fabric behind some items on the shelf (sorry workers!). Motionless, you stand in awe of the dastardly deed and that you still look good. Like it's been handed a mic, your now visible starved tum begins to sing. A deep grumbling voice fills the aisle as your face turns red. I lay a hand on your tummy, who's crying desperately for attention. A voice startles us both,
"The food court is out the front door and to the left. There's no way one of you isn't hungry! I heard that one from the next aisle over! Y'all have yourselves a good one, alright?" They walk away laughing, having embarrassed us enough.
Still making a racket, your tummy demands we listen to the stranger.
It's only been all day! Do we break our fast now? Could we make it back home? Until tomorrow?
