Alice

Chapter 3

On the night the first lockdowns were announced Alice called me and asked if she could move in with me. She, like me, lived alone but she had no family close by, so there was no problem there.

‘The thought of being alone and not being able to see you for who knows how long is not something I want,’ she said.

To be truthful, the idea of not being able to see my growing girl was not something I was overly keen on with. So, two hours later she was at my door with her suitcase in one hand and, as always seemed to be the case, eating her way through a bar of chocolate.

‘Don’t tell me,’ I said, ‘you’ve got to maintain your girlish figure somehow?’
‘Absolutely. This whole situation though is scary as all hell and I’m stress eating like crazy.’
‘So that’s your excuse now is it?’
‘You sod!’ She joked, ‘You love it when you see me eating and at this point in our relationship you couldn’t deny it if you could!’
‘Guilty as charged, milady! Now get that rather wonderful arse in here!’

She kissed me on the cheek as she squeezed past me, the hallway wasn’t designed for a girl as wide as her to pass another person, and waddled her way in to the house.

I was able to continue to work from home during the lockdowns but Alice was soon furloughed from her job. I would work all morning and in the afternoon’s head to my parent’s allotment. They were paranoid about leaving their house and so asked me if I would mind tending the fruit and vegetables. I didn’t mind, it was restful, it got me out in to the fresh air and I could keep my distance from other people. Alice, however, had nothing like that to get up for. Gardening was far too much like hard work for fat girl like her. She developed her own routine that didn’t begin until lunchtime when she woke up and got out of bed and we would have a bit to eat together. Once I had gone she would be sat on the sofa scrolling through her phone or watching whatever took her fancy on TV.

With nothing to do, nowhere to go and nothing to really spend money on, this became her way of life. There was always some snack or other close to hand, that I kept well-supplied, to keep her from getting hungry. Inevitably, this sedentary lifestyle kept her weight steadily climbing. Our very regular, frantic, energetic bedroom antics weren’t enough exercise to counter-act the number of calories that she was consuming and it soon became apparent that her entire wardrobe was straining at the seams. Even the baggiest of baggy clothes was beginning to look tight as her already corpulent body became even bigger. The heavier she got the higher her sex drive, and indeed the better the sex, became.

One Friday, I came in from the gardening to find her stretched out on the sofa, her belly hanging over the side, looking to all intents and purposes like the proverbial beached whale.

‘I think we’re going to need a bigger boat!’ I joked.
‘Arsehole! It’s not my fault your poxy sofa isn’t designed for my plushness!’