Chapter 4

Soon our faces were only inches away.  Heather's lips still were curled into a smile, her alcohol-soaked brain still convinced I was messing with her.  Slowly I leaned in closer, finally pressing my lips against her soft, sweet, and so-fucking-hot mouth.  For one promising moment her eyes drooped and she kissed me back.

Success!

Or . . . not.  After that brief, tantalizing moment of bliss she abruptly pulled away.  Her eyes were widened in shock.  

"Wh-what was that?!" she exclaimed.

I sighed.  "Look, I'm sorry, ok?  I guess maybe I should have told you.  I'm, um, a lesbian.  I like girls.  I think you're really nice, and pretty, well, actually, really fucking hot, and, y'know, I just . . ."

I shrugged. 

"Y-you like me??"

I nodded.  "But I'm sorry if what I did made you uncomfortable.  Can we still be friends?"

For a moment she just stared at me, and I feared that I had ruined it all.  All my hard work for naught.  But then she favored me with the sweetest smile I've ever seen and pulled me into a hug.

"Of course Jenna, of course we're still friends.  I don't care if you're a lesbian.  It actually feels kinda nice knowing you think I'm hot.  I just . . . y'know . . . I'm not like that."

I told her I understood.  What I meant is that I understood she wasn't like that now.  Not yet.  But soon, precious baby.  Soon I'll have you begging for it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few weeks passed, and despite my "coming out" to Heather at the party, pretty much nothing had changed.  Occasionally when she walked away from me she'd look over her shoulder to catch me checking out her ass.  Then she'd just smile and wink at me.  We still went out to eat every day, and Heather still snacked constantly while on the clock.  I couldn't believe my good fortune, not only was she really starting to pack on the pounds, she didn't even seem to mind that much.  And on top of it all, she waited much too long before upgrading her uniform.

"Psst, Jenna!" Heather hissed at me from the adjacent register.  

It was an unusually busy Wednesday afternoon and so were both working up front.  There was a bit of a lull after a surprising rush, so we finally had a minute to talk.

"Psst, what?" I whispered back.

Heather glanced furtively around before answering.  "I think I need a bigger uniform."

Heather made sure her body was shielded by the register as she grabbed her belt buckle and pulled it down a bit.  I almost fainted, her tan slacks were actually unbuttoned!  I took a closer look at her then, and observed that seat of her pants was straining noticeably to contain a much chunkier rear.  The red uniform shirt encased her rounder upper body, leaving little to the imagination.  I could even see the outline of her deepening navel as her chubby little gut pressed tight against the fabric.  

"Bet you don't think I'm hot now," she said.

Was it my imagination or did she actually sound a little sad?  

"Just the hottest girl I've ever seen," I said, looking her up and down.  "Mm, so fucking hot."

Heather blushed and giggled, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger.  

"Even with this?" she asked in a soft voice, gently caressing her pudgy middle.

I paused for a moment, then looked her straight in the eye.  "Especially with that."

Of course Heather wanted to know what I meant by that, so I found myself explaining my preference for "curvier" girls.  I was worried that it would freak her out, but to my surprise she appeared thoughtful rather than disgusted.  Over the course of the afternoon I caught her a couple times looking at my body in frank appraisal.  What the hell was she thinking about?