Chapter 8 - confession

Jenny lifted her hands up and shook her head. "You know me. I'm not like that," she smiled. "You can tell me anything." She meant it.

Damon seemed appeased and flicked through the pictures on his cell phone until he got to the one he wanted to show Jenny. He turned his phone and passed it to her, scanning her face for every minute reaction. The picture was of a shirtless man just a couple of years older than him by the looks of things. He was tall, like Damon but had considerably more weight on him. If Jenny had to guess, she'd probably have said he was 400lbs, with a massive round stomach and a huge ass pushing out in the opposite direction. "I reckon I would look like that if I carried on..." Damon said, after Jenny had had time to study the picture. "You see how we both carry our weight in a similar way..." he went on, standing up and taking his shirt off to pose like the man in the picture.

Jenny was stunned by the fast turn of events. The whole time she had known Damon, she had never seen him without his shirt on. If anything, he looked even tubbier underneath, as Jenny could see the fat love handles rolling over the waistband of his pants, as well as the bulging of his moobs as they started to burrow under his arms while he stood. "What do you think?" he asked, still holding the pose. "Am I right?"

Jenny could feel herself flushing red. "Yeah, I reckon so," she agreed, looking back and forth from Damon to the picture. Damon smiled and sat down again, not bothering to put on the shirt but letting the fat of his stomach pinch into rolls as he sat in the corner of the sofa looking at Jenny.

"You look pleased..." Jenny said, feeling confused, passing back Damon's cell.

"I am," nodded Damon, taking a look at the picture for himself and admiring it. "I'd love to be that big."

Jenny's mind was whirring fast now. She didn't know whether it was the fact that Damon was sat there shirtless that was doing it for her, or the realisation that Damon admired his own belly so much and wanted to keep growing it even larger.

"I found one for you as well," Damon went on, seemingly oblivious to the impact he was having on Jenny. He flicked through his gallery and then turned his cell phone to face Jenny; it was of a wide hipped, chubby-bellied girl sat as a computer desk, with breasts almost touching the keyboard. "Don't you think that's pretty accurate? You carry it more in your ass and boobs like that girl. She's about 350lbs there, but apparently she's even heavier now. She's getting more rolls on her belly, like I've seen on you recently." Damon studied her body from the corner of the sofa. "You see what I mean?"

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?" Jenny asked. She hadn't meant to, but Jenny looked at Damon, as if seeing him anew.

"Yeah," Damon admitted, looking a bit sheepish and embarrassed for the first time. "I was just looking and came across them. It's not like it means anything," he mumbled, back-tracking, standing up to put his t shirt back on over his lardy belly. "I probably shouldn't have even told you," he rambled, rubbing his face, as if flushed. Then he stood up as if suddenly sober again. "I have to be up early tomorrow so we should probably call it a night," he continued, collecting the empty glass bottles.

Jenny grabbed her jacket and carried it as she stood up. "Yeah, I guess I should head off." She felt bad. Damon had just admitted something very personal to her and now Jenny was leaving him feeling embarrassed. She needed to be honest with him, but now Damon wasn't even making eye contact with her. She stood next to him and just lightly brushed his hand that was carrying the empty bottles of beer. "But, just so you know. I like that. That idea, with the pictures," she stuttered, finding it hard to express herself. "You... and me."

Damon looked at her like he had never done before. She wanted to kiss him; he wanted to kiss her. But they couldn't. That line could not be crossed and they both knew it. It broke her heart, but Jenny left, heading down to get a cab home. She had gone too far. She had expressed it in words. It wasn't a friendship any more. It was something more. And that meant it had to stop.