Chapter 1 - the dawn

The new day’s sunlight dapples through the forest leaves and into our bedroom open window, playing across your sweet face. Your skin is perfect, so soft and smooth. Your face has changed since I met you. It’s so round now you have a moonface, shining white and full and romantic as a full moon.

Here with me, you have blossomed like your namesake. Rose, blooming and becoming more lovely by the day.

Your cheekbones no longer show. Your cheeks have grown chubby as if they are always filled with good food — which they always seem to be these days. Your jawline has softened, and I caress your chin, feeling how soft it has grown, a small bit of fat beginning to fold into a double chin.

I sit on the edge of the bed and just look at you in amazement. I still can't believe how fortunate I am to have found such a wonderful woman as you -- or rather to have had you find me. The morning sunlight glistens on your twitching eyelids, and I get up and close the bamboo shades so you won't awaken.

I want to surprise you with breakfast in bed today. A huge breakfast of all your favorites.

I look around at the plates and glasses and other items from last night's late-night snack. No, not a snack, a feeding. That's what your midnight snacking has become. Feedings. Not snacks. Not meals. Just feedings for you to enjoy on your journey to a fleshy round cute body. The plates are covered with grease from fried vegetables and grilled cheese sandwiches. I see a bit of greasy breading and bit of melted cheese on one plate. I grab them and a bit of fried zucchini and gobble them down hungrily.

The gallon blender pitcher from last night is still here, empty but coated with chocolate. We made ice cream yesterday afternoon in the shade of the porch with our hand-cranked ice cream maker. I put cocoa and sugar and thick fresh cream in it. I'd lifted the cream from the top of our cow's milk, a layer of cream so thick, sweet, and so white and so fattening.

I look at your face again. It’s creamy, the color and silkiness of that fresh cow cream. Your skin is so white and perfect. Your face is so like the full moon, round and shiny. You’re always on me to put on sunscreen to protect my skin. Mine is darker, tougher, from years working outdoors. You are so kind to care for me as you do. I love your caring nature, and how your fingers massage my face and arms with the sunscreen when we go outside to work or play

Into last night’s blender, I had also put in chunks of dark chocolate, so the milk shake had some chunkiness to it. Chunky. What a great word. Chunky.

Kind of like you. You've got some chunkiness to you now -- not at all like that skinny waif who showed up at my door during a freak October snowstorm last fall. I watch the rise and fall of the sheets as you breath, and I think of your belly, so plump and ripe, beneath those sheets. And how soft you have become all over, your thighs, your breasts, all of you no longer lean and muscular.

You have blossomed like a rose.

(more to come, please comment and like)