Chapter 2 - short haul

After the restaurant they stopped at the Dunkin' Donuts on the way up to the airport hotel room. She had an early flight the next morning, so there was no time for sight-seeing. She picked up a box of a dozen fresh donuts. It was her treat. The least she could do for such a growing boy. He looked nervous now.

In the hotel room, she stripped him down to his boxers, and stroked his tender underbelly with the nail of her index finger before she sat him down in a nearby chair. She cooed in his ear about how she loved his new body, how fat he was, how she adored it. The sexual tension was electrifying. She watched gleefully as his burgeoning pot belly spilled out onto his lap as he sat down. She tied his legs to the chairlegs, and placed the box of donuts on the bed beside him. She also tied him to the back of the chair across the chest, under the arms, leaving his hands free to reach the fattening treats. She let her own hands feel the new fat and trace his new stretchmarks during this whole procedure. Delicious. Boy'd done good.

He knew the drill. It was one of the fantasies they had discussed. One item of clothing removed per donut devoured. She put on a few extra layers just to make it 'extra' fun. He picked up the first donut and began to eat.

Eight donuts in and he was really struggling, his belly bulging. It was just a matter of how much he wanted to see. And for her, how much of a pig he really could be. He'd bemoaned the fact that earings had counted as clothing. "Stop being such a fat, whiny little b*tch," she'd purred jokingly in his ear, as she grabbed a handful of thick thigh. "You wanted to play games, didn't you?". She paraded around him, gave him an eyeful of her statuesque form. Her pencil thin waist, her curves, that behind. And those achingly long, long legs. No boy could resist her. It was so easy to taunt them, tease them, excite them. Break them.

Once the eighth donut was gone, she unzipped the back of her dress and slid it down over her shoulders to her waist. Her lingerie was the finest French silk. The poor boy obviously hadn't seen a real undressed woman in the flesh for months, and was clearly unable to prevent himself from rising rapidly to attention. Greedy boy. She smirked at him as she spied the bulge in his shorts. She was rapidly wettening too.

"Have another," she said looking at the next donut. She reached for the clasp on the front of her bra, and deftly unhooked it, but not yet revealing its contents unless that next donut was all gone. She nodded as he looked at the box. He squirmed in his seat and moaned as one of his hands began to slide down to his crotch. She reached over to give him a quick, stern, slap. "No-no! No touching. Just eating!". He sighed in frustration as he reached for the next donut and let himself be. Still hard, aching for her. Sweet torture. Was it her or the food he couldn't give into? He didn't know for sure.

There was no sex that night. That was another one of her golden rules, but she was always amazed at what you could get a man to do using only your hands and your body against him. He ate the whole dozen, she made sure of that, despite his protests. He'd never get any bigger without pushing himself like that. Finding out what he was really capable of. He would thank her in the end. She knew it wouldn't be long before he'd eat his next dozen donuts for sure, when at his weakest, now that he knew that he could. And it was all thanks to her.

He spent the night on the camp down sofa bed, whilst she enjoyed the full extent of the hotel room's double bed. She slept like a log. But 7.00am soon came and they both made their way down to the depatures terminal for her 8.30am flight.

They'd showered together up in the room, as things had got a little heated after he'd taken down both his and her full cooked breakfasts that room service had sent up. He could look - but not touch - in the shower. That was the deal. She may have let him have just one kiss and stroked him a little down below. Just enough to tease him, give him some hope. It was early, and she wasn't really concentrating on what she was doing. That was her excuse, and her husband needn't know.

Once she had checked in and got her ticket the pair said their goodbyes at the security gates. She noticed that he was still wearing the same jeans from the night before, so as she hugged him farewell, she whispered, "Check your back pocket when I'm gone," softly into his hear. Her voice dropped a tone as she did this, and she couldn't prevent herself from giving his ear lobe a long, lingering nibble. She felt his body shudder and she swore she heard him let out a soft, tender, little moan. 'Another man under her spell,' she thought. Join the queue.

"Good-bye Jess," he uttered breathlessly, drawing in her scent for a final time as they parted from their embrace. He gazed at her longingly as she turned and walked away towards the security gates.

Once she'd gone through the gate, he reached into his back pocket and found the paper note she'd hidden there previously the day before. He unfolded it carefully and read what it said.

"Get too fat for missionary, and I might just ride you for free,
J
xxx".

He looked up. Jess watched on from the other side of the gate. She smiled at him and winked, then blew him a pleasingly teasing kiss.

She wouldn't really, of course. But she liked to keep them guessing. 'Now that will make the next ten-months very interesing,' she thought to herself delightedly, as she spun around and headed for her departure gate. She was looking forward to them already.

The End.