Chapter 7

The rest of the day passed in a blur, I could think of nothing but my "date" with Heather that night.  I wore one of my roomier pair of jeans, they looked painted on but I still looked hot.  A black sleeveless top hid my burgeoning pot belly slightly, but I still looked much curvier than I used to.  At least my boobs had benefited from all this also.  I showed up at 7 on the dot, holding a bottle of wine and trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

My mouth went dry as Heather eased open the door.  She wore a red robe that looked like it was made of silk, the top open enough to give me a good look at her cleavage.  Her hair and make up were done impeccably, she truly was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in real life.

"Ready for the night of your life?" Heather asked in a breathy voice, before giggling at the corny line.

"Uh-huh," I replied weakly.

She turned and walked away from the door and I followed wordlessly behind.  This was a new experience for me, in the past I was always the instigator, the one in charge.  But this plumped-up blonde now held me in the palm of her hand.  She had me wrapped around her little finger.  She had me desperate for just a taste.

And she knew it.

I followed her swaying hips into the kitchen, it was lit by candle light.  On the table was an actual chocolate fountain, plates surrounded it filled with pastries and fruit.  

"Nothing like some chocolate to start things off, right?" Heather smiled.

She dipped a finger into the cascading liquid chocolate, then stuck the finger in her mouth and sensually sucked it clean.  The tingling between my legs spread up to my lower back, also causing my knees to weaken.  Oh fuck, I had it bad.

"Sit down, help yourself," Heather invited.  "I'll open up that wine."

I sat at the table as instructed, then grabbed a flat pastry, dipped it in the fountain, and gobbled it up.  Mmm, so freaking good.

"It's yummy, isn't it?" Heather smiled, taking a seat close to mine.

She dipped a plump strawberry in the chocolate, then held it to my lips.  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, reveling in the taste and the experience of being fed by Heather.  When I opened my eyes I saw she was looking at me very intently, and I had no doubts about where this evening would lead.

"Aren't you going to eat too?" I asked.

"Maybe . . . if you're willing to do something for me."

"Anything," I replied, the word out of mouth before I could stop it.

Heather's lips curled into a wide smile, and she began to load up a number of small plates with various goodies.  

"Ok," she said after she divvied up the plates.  "Here's how this works.  For each plate I eat, you either have to remove one piece of clothing or eat two of your own platefuls.  My choice.  Want to play?"

I had kicked off my shoes when entering her apartment, and was wearing no socks.  That meant I had four items of clothing on, which probably meant that Heather planned on eating at least four plates of chocolate covered delicacies.  This night was turning out even better than I had hoped.

Heather quickly demolished one serving, then gave me a sly grin.  "Shirt."

I smiled back, taking my time as I pulled it over my head.  Her expression told me that she was quite pleased with what she saw.  Sitting down with snug jeans, I had no hopes of hiding my muffin top.  Fortunately she seemed to like that sort of thing.

Another plate, but this time she told me to eat.  The chocolate was delicious, and it went perfectly with the various pastries and fruit.  Another plate for Heather and my bra followed my shirt.  I felt rather self-conscious being totally topless.  Another plate for Heather and two more for me.  Now the waistband of my snug jeans was straining around my full belly.

Heather ate another plate, loosening the belt on her robe.  I ate two more, unbuttoning my jeans.  By now I was squirming in my chair, my thighs rubbing against each other as my arousal surged.  I was longing for her to tell me to remove my pants, but again she pointed toward the food.  My soft belly was inflated into a taut roundness, bulging between the open flaps of my jeans.

"You're looking pretty full," she observed.

"Maybe *urp* a little," I said, trying to rub away the bloated feeling.

"Tell ya what, there's only four more platefuls.  If you take off the rest of your clothes I'll let you feed me the rest."