I stepped out of the changing room in my blue and
yellow one-piece bathing suit. Over one shoulder was
draped my big beach blanket and over my other shoulder
was draped my cloth bag containing my beach visit
essentials: suntan oil, a bottle of mineral water, two
sandwiches and a bag of fat-free chips. A beach umbrel-
la stuck under my right arm, resting atop the swell of
my right breast.

The boys stopped and stared, as did the girls, as I
walked through the little brick pavillion. My 68 inch
bosoms heaved and quaked in my bathing suit like two
gigantic waterballoons.

Stepping from cool concrete and shade to warm sand and
bright sun, I hit the beach. The sandy shore was lit-
tered with bodies, all of which were laying about like
driftwood scattered after a storm. I found my spot in
the midst of stares and whispering, dropped my beach
paraphenalia and claimed my territory with the ka-chunk
of the beach umbrella pole.

I had been laying there, under the glare of the sun off
my well-oiled body, when the sound of hoots and whis-
tles shattered my tranquility.

“Hey, Miss Jugs, play some volleyball!” and “Maybe we
can climb those sand dunes!” came from a group of young
men walking by my locale. I sat up and smiled at them,
my nipples hardened at their stares and jeering. I
leaned back, breasts jutting full up, and gave a twist
that sent my heavy bosom into a sloppy sway from left
to right and left to right. The guys responded with
more hoots and shouts. I cut them short with a sway of
my middle finger.

“Go suck air!” a guy replied to my gesture. I didn’t
see the beachball until it was in my face.

The multi-colored beachball hit me square in the face.
The shock sent me backwards and the ball rolled down,
up over my bust and was caught in the “basket” my bulg-
ing breasts, bellie and bent knees had made. I laid
there on my back with hands grasping the beachball that
lay atop my stomach.

“You” I felt peculiar. “jerks?”

There was a tingling within my belly. An odd sensation.
A slight pressure. I looked to the peaks of my breasts,
eyeing the beachball. I saw the big beachball actually
rise up, like a multi-colored moon rising above two
blue and yellow draped mountians. “What’s happening?”
I thought.

I slid one hand under the beachball, running my fingers
over my bathing suit. I was surprised to find my tummy
with a definite swell to it now compared to its trim
flatteness it had been mere seconds ago. I felt the
stem of the beachball, the air intake nozzle sticking
downward, poking into my suit where my belly button was
located. I realized something was amiss and grasped the
beachball again.

“Oh my gosh!” I cried feeling the beachball actually
shrinking in size while my tummy, my once slim little
tummy pushing up and up and up.

The beachball grew smaller. Its skin growing loose
against my hands that were pressing against it. As the
skin of the big beachball finally collapsed into a
lifeless husk on top of me, I found my hands now rest-
ing on a huge dome-shaped bulge, my new ballooned up
belly. I moved the lifeless shell of beachball away and
laid there running my little hands over and over my
expanded tummy. My suit had contained my new blossoming
well.

“Mommy, look at that pregnant lady.” I turned my head
to the right to see a little girl and her mother walk-
ing near. The little girl was pointing at my huge belly
and her mother was staring in awe.

“Let’s leave her alone,” the mother said and hurried
on. I wondered why the woman was acting so odd. It was
as if she had never seen a pregnant woman before.
That’s when I felt my suit shift. I gasped, feeling
again that strange sensation within me. I was continu-
ing to swell up.

“No! No! No!” I cried as my suit tightened and my hands
rested on my ballooning belly. I grew bigger and bigger
and bigger. It wasn’t stopping. I was somehow still
taking in air, my belly blowing up like a giant beach-
ball. It wasn’t going to stop! It wasn’t going to stop!
I was getting too big!

My mind did a woop-de-do in my skull. The sun sank on
its side, slipping down the angling blue sky like an
egg yoke splattered against a wall. The waves and the
sound of the people all about me faded out as did my
senses. I passed out, tummy still inflating.

I came to in the shade of the brick pavilion. I was
still on my back. Two tanned men with red and white
shorts stood by.

“You alright, ma’am?” one of the men politely asked. A
small crowd had formed behind them.

“I think so,” I said forgeting for a second where I had
been and what had happened.

The two men helped me off a gurney. I almost fell for-
ward, gasping. My eyes caught sight, below my heavy big
bust, my huge round belly that stuck out as if I had
swallowed five beachballs.

“Are you sure you are okay?” the other life guard
asked.

“Ummm I’ll be fine,” I smiled, my hands resting on my
enormous tummy.

“Motherhood is swell.”

What was I going to do?