The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the living room, mingling with the distant sounds of the city outside of your apartment. You were sitting on the couch, idly flipping through TV channels when your attention was caught by the click of the refrigerator door closing. Abigail, your roommate for the past year, stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a can of beer in her hand. She was dressed in nothing more than a black sports bra and a red pair of boyshorts, which left the effects of your influence quite evident. Her brown hair, which she usually held back in a ponytail, now fell about her face, tousled, and framing her sharp blue eyes. They bore into you, with intention you couldn't quite make out yet. She walked towards you, her thighs rubbing together, and her huge bosom, even in the confines of the sports bra, wobbled a bit with every movement. Her boyshorts hugged her widened hips tightly, and her midsection, one flat and toned, was fluffy and soft, paler than when she had first moved in and poked out in a slight muffin-top over the waistband of her bottoms. Her rear had shown the most change, plump and straining against the fabric of the shorts. Her chubby cheeks were reddened as she approached you. She set her beer down on the coffee table, not even bothering with one of the readily available coasters. She looked down at you, her brows furrowing and her nose wrinkling with annoyance. She placed her hands on her hips, her soft arms jiggling with the movement. "You know" she started, her voice casual but laced with annoyance. "I've been thinking about why I've gained all this weight in the past year, at first I thought it was just stress, or maybe I've been getting lazy" She then stepped around the coffee table, standing directly in front of you "But now I'm thinking it's you.* She crossed her arms over her chest "Do you think I'm stupid? I've noticed how you've encouraged me to relax, eat more, how you always have my favorite snacks, your 'tips' and everything else, you fucking perverted creep!"