Allie snapped off all the lights, leaving nothing but the soft glow of the birthday candles to illuminate our tiny apartment. Slinking out from the kitchen, she rounded the corner with the small grocery store confectionary balanced in both hands, humming a soft sultry rendition of the annual birthday tune.
I sat on our soft, beige, corduroy couch: I was in my underwear and athleticwear t-shirt, my hair a frumpled mess, my skinny limbs still recovering from the post-dinner pre-dessert romp in the hay with Allie.
The chocolate cake had a crude “Happy Birthday Adam xo” written on top (clearly added by Allie after purchase), the pink wax dripping artistic American spots all over the thick frosting. It was my 21st on the 21st, and Allie had pulled out all stops to make sure my champagne birthday was everything I had ever dreamed it to be. With her dirty blonde hair and lean physique, she was the college girlfriend dream: her soft green eyes and sharp, pointed nose complimented her cut jawline and thin lips. She was the girl next door. The preacher’s daughter. The valedictorian. All the unassuming archetypes you could ever list would fit her type perfectly.
As she glided over to the couch beside me, her lithe and long figure dropped effortlessly into the seat beside me. Wearing my grey high school hoodie and fresh underwear, she smelled like laundry, sweat, and sugar. I loved her with all my heart.
The song came to a soft cadence, and she held the candles up to my face. I closed my eyes and made my wish. It was my hidden secret, the one I kept near and dear to my persona and had not shared with anyone else.
I was in third year and Allie was in second. We had met over a year ago at the first party of the school year, hooked up, and immediately committed to each other. She was the perfect partner, the girl you wanted to bring home to your parents. Allie was a bit of a lightweight, and I hadn’t partied until then, and so we both became each other’s touch-point. We often ducked out early to go home and have an early night. Allie was very committed to her skin care routine, which she had built and imparted into my habit. We were often snuggled up well before midnight, dozing off to a sitcom subtly humming in the background.
I stared at the soft candle glow against Allie’s porcelain skin. She was so beautiful, with her long lines and sleek paper airplane nose. I love her. I loved having sex with her. I loved having quiet moments with her.
But I also would have loved to see her a different way.
I squinted my eyes and blew out the candles, wishing with all my might for my hidden desires to sneak into the realm of reality.
Allie kissed me sweetly and set the cake down between us, offering two forks. We picked away, taking miniscule bites. She was quite dainty.
“Well, what did you wish for?” Allie cooed in her timid tone.
“You’re telling me you want me to totally disrespect the unspoken law of Birthday Wish Confidentiality?” I teased her, pushing my fingers through my tight curly hair.
“Fair enough, fair enough. I just didn’t know if there was something else that I could do for my birthday boy.” Allie placed the fork in her mouth with great allusion to a seductive practice. She let her lips pop against the metal with a satisfying sound.
I laughed and blushed. My heart was suddenly racing, my limbs were shaking. She noticed.
“Oh? Is there something there, mister?” She cocked an eyebrow.
My mouth went dry and I put my fork down. I thought I might be sick for a moment. I was so anxious.
With a shakey breath, I looked her in the eye. Allie’s aura changed, and she looked concern. She touched my leg and leaned forward. Her body was so devoid of any fat that no rolls or tummy bulged forward. She was skinny as hell.
Releasing my breath and looking her dead in the eyes, I said it:
“I want to watch you eat that entire cake yourself.”
She paused, looking at me with a blank stare that could not be read; her face was a foreign text written in a tongue I had not yet learned.
Slowly, and without a word, she lifted her fork and cake tray and ate in slow, measured bites. Chocolate crumbs fell from her mouth, but she took her time. I sat farther back on the couch, watching it happen. Allie’s eyes kept flickering to my waistband, where she could see my arousal reaching its peak.
With only a few bites remaining, she began to moan in struggle. Taking a deep breath and placing her hand to her stomach, she scooped the final morsels and swallowed with evident pain.
Without saying a word, she leaned over, chocolate icing covering her lips and lining her tongue, took my throbbing member from out of my underwear, and wrapped her lips around me. She moved her mouth only a handful of times up and down my shaft before I came gloriously down her throat.
After cleaning up, she came back with great shock and awe. In a quiet tone:
“That was a lot.”
“I’m sorry,” I spluttered, my post-nut clarity coming through quickly. “If it was weird –”
“No, I mean, that was a lot of you there. I’m not sure you’ve ever cum so much.”
I feel my ears burn. “Oh. Yeah.”
“You really liked that?”
“What about it did you like?”
I didn’t have an answer right away. “I like the idea that you are letting go, that you are just giving in to your impulses. I like that you’re being greedy.”
“Do you like … bigger girls?”
I smile. “I mean, you’re what, 5’8”?”
Allie rolls her eyes and shoves her feet in my lap. I begin rubbing her soles. “No stupid. Like, curvy women. Big boned. Chubby.”
I felt tears brimming. It was odd. I nodded.
“Have you ever been with a big girl?”
I shook my head, knowing if I spoke my shame would spill forth.
Allie leaned forward and kissed my neck. Then, she did it again. Reaching her hands down towards my bulge again, she playfully ran her fingers across the shape. Suddenly, I wasn’t so tired anymore. I felt the structure begin to take shape once more.
“You just keep that going, I’ll be right back.”
Disappearing into the kitchen, Allie returned with the gourmet pint of lavender sorbet we had bought at the market last week. She also held the last of our milk carton and some festive holiday cookies that were on sale.
Straddling my lap, Allie slid me inside her and placed the food to one side. She gently began to rock back and forth, gyrating her hips and stimulating my interest even more. I breathed and moaned and choked on my own throat.
She reached over and tipped the milk to her mouth. She chugged it, with the droplets falling down her breasts and into our conjoined crotch. Then, the cookies, slowly riding me and eating quietly. With great effort, she lifted the pint of ice cream to her lips and suckled at it like a popsicle: no hands, just mouth.
When all the food was done, she wiped her lips and kept humping me.
“Every year, for your birthday, I’ll treat you to this. For 24 hours, you can have whatever your little heart desires. I will commit that to you. The rest of the year, we just keep doing what we normally do. Deal?”
My eyes glazed over in excitement.
“I’ll do whatever you want to make you happy. Just for you, on your special day.”
I swallowed hard, holding back what felt like another climax. “More.”
Allie started riding me faster, harder, but I stopped – “No, no. Eat more. Go.”
As she hopped off and walked away, I watched her skinny legs sashay into the kitchen.
I had a year to formulate my plan.
Allie returned with a brick of cheese. “Will this do?”
I smiled and pulled her down onto me. “For now.”
College Fiction Apocalypse/Quarantine Mutual gaining Humiliation/Teasing Feeding/Stuffing Sexual acts/Love making Addictive Denying Indulgent Lazy Romantic Female Straight Weight gain Wife/Husband/Girlfriend
5 chapters, created 10 months , updated 10 months
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