Chapter 1 (out of 2)

I know most of the stories on here are pieces of fiction written for creative and/or erotic purposes. But I feel compelled to share a true story about my ex-girlfriend.
I dated this girl for about 7-8 months a couple years ago. Still the best girlfriend I've ever had. She was stunningly beautiful -- with a look somewhere in between "hippie hipster chic" and "girl next door" (with just a little bit of edge left over from her high school "scene rat" days.) She was soulful and deeply kind -- the type of person who'd spend her evenings volunteering at soup kitchens. We shared almost identical political and spiritual beliefs -- yet still disagreed just enough for enlightening debate and discussion. She was mature and responsible -- raising a kid and holding down a steady career -- but still had a wild streak that came out whenever we hit the bars, or broke out the wine. And she was chubby. You wouldn't pick her out of a lineup and call her "fat." But she was definitely pretty chubby -- sporting ample curves and a sizable tummy.
On top of that, she gained about 15-20 pounds during the course of our relationship...with a little bit of encouragement on my part. Not that she needed it, though. She LOVED food. She'd stuff herself with pancakes and eggs when I'd cook us breakfast. She'd binge on snack foods and entire pints of Ben & Jerry's. We had pretty disparate work schedules, so she'd cook or order dinner for herself and her kid when she came home -- then she'd have an entire second dinner with me whenever I came over (which was most nights.)
Occasionally, she would bemoan the size of her stomach -- but I'd always assure her that I thought she had a sexy, little tummy. Although she'd look at me like I'm crazy...I think she genuinely appreciated hearing that. One time, she texted me from work, "It's happening! I am actually going on a diet this time! And no more 2nd dinner." Turns out, a customer had asked if she was pregnant -- and when my ex said, "Well I have a kid...but not currently, no," the woman replied, "Hmm...shame."
This encounter seemed to upset her...but two days later, when I asked her if I should put another homemade pizza in the oven (after we had already split one), she sighed and said, "I eat way too much, but I can't help it -- food is my ADDICTION." She said that a lot: "Food is my addiction."
Sometimes, I wonder if she KNEW. I'm not exclusively attracted to larger women. Skinny, average, curvy, chubby, fat -- they're all beautiful to me. But I definitely have a certain affinity for girls with heavy tummies and greedy appetites. And sometimes, I wonder if she knew.
One time, we were out with a friend of hers, and they were bemoaning the size of their bellies. The friend said to my ex, "Well at least you're with a guy who LIKES yours."
She would frequently adopt a mock accusatory tone, and blame me for "trying to fatten her up."
One particular time, she texted me after she got off work, asking, "Should I get KFC or Taco John's?"
"Both," I replied.
In all caps she came back at me, "YOU REALLY ARE TRYING TO FATTEN ME UP!"
She made the decision to get KFC...but shortly after texted me, "Dammit. You were right...I'm still hungry." It was, without a doubt, the hottest text message I've ever received.
Anyway, to the particular story at hand: One night she absolutely outdid herself. And I remember it near perfectly to this day. Near the very end of our relationship, we went out to dinner for a work party of hers. We had had a hearty breakfast (she even added an additional flapjack to her usually reliable intake of 3 pancakes, 3 eggs and 4 pieces of bacon), but nearly skipped lunch all-together -- I believe she only had a piece of fruit and a couple handfuls of chips. So on the way to the dinner, she repeatedly said how starved she was.
After some socializing and light drinking, dinner had arrived. Roast beef drowning in gravy, pork sausages, mashed potatoes (her absolute favorite) a vegetable medley, jello and dinner rolls. She filled her plate with a heaping helping of every dish, as well as a couple of rolls. When the opportunity to make the round for seconds was called, she jumped right up and filled herself another, nearly identical plate. Then, as I mused getting up to get myself another roll, she said, "Hmmm...well I would like a *little* more beef and mashed potatoes." I obliged -- returning with slightly larger portions than she had had in mind.
"I only said a LITTLE, geesh!" She still ate every last bite.
Saying goodbye to her (mostly older) work friends, we then made plans to go out with some old school friends of hers. After all, her mom was watching the kid all night. Before we met up with her friends, I asked if we could stop off at a certain restaurant first. I'm a little bit of picky eater. Not intensely so -- but the food at that dinner really hadn't been to my liking, so I mostly just nibbled on some rolls and mashed potatoes. So we went to the other restaurant so I could order some cheese curds. My ex then proceeded to eat about a third of that rather large order. (As starving as I was, I only had a little bit more than her -- leaving a lot of it still on the plate. That's how large the order was.)
Finally, we met up with her friends and proceeded to have a drink or several. As is often ritual in the Midwestern city where I'm from, we made the decision to hit up 24-hour restaurant Perkins after the bars closed down. No one was more excited about this than my ex.
Fairly tipsy, she repeated her desired order to me several times on the cab over ("...just in case I forget it"): 3 over-easy eggs, 3 pancakes, 3 pieces of sausage, and a large plate of hashbrowns. Upon arriving and ordering, she did in fact remember. I ordered a plate of chicken strips, as well as an appetizer of mozzarella sticks for the table to share. Her friend ordered a greasy club sandwich with fries. And her other friend ordered a hamburger, also with fries.
First the mozzarella sticks arrived. There were 8. My ex had 3...before greedily eying the last one in the basket. After her 5th or 6th time glancing at it, she asked the table, "Anyone want this last mozzarella stick?" There were no takers. So make that 4 mozzarella sticks.
When the main courses arrived, she dug straight in. First the hashbrowns. Then the eggs. Then the sausages. Finally the pancakes. I was seriously impressed when she finished off every last bite -- even letting out a couple cute little burps as she worked on the pancakes. She was across the table from me, so I couldn't see her belly -- but I could just tell from the way she kept adjusting her clothes, that her belly was straining on them pretty bad.
But...she wasn't done.
After a few minutes, she asked if I could have a couple of my chicken strips. I said "yes," of course. She had two. Then, both of the friends with sandwiches offered up their fries. My ex began to take generously from each plate. She began adjusting her clothes more -- wiggling in her seat, she was clearly uncomfortable. The friend with the club sandwich called it quits after only eating half the sandwich. My ex valiantly offered to take on the second half, greedily reaching across the table to grab it. When she finished she let out another belch. This one was not so cute, and actually received giggles from her two friends.
"Wooo...I am SO. FULL. Damn. My tummy is NOT happy with me." My ex said as she let out a satisfied sigh.
Yet...she continued to take fries from the other friend's plate, until they finally asked, "[Redacted] I'm done with this burger. Are you still hungry?"
"I could eat a bit more," she nonchalantly replied. She then finished off the remaining quarter of the burger. After several more minutes of munching on fries, the waitress returned to take away the plates. My ex hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to let the waitress take the remaining fries.
"Is there anything else I can get you guys?" The waitress asked.
We all were pretty sure we wanted our checks. But then, very hesitantly, my ex spoke up, "...I don't know...I was kindof feeling pie maybe? A couple pieces of pie for the table? How about...caramel apple, aaannnd...French silk?"
The two slices of pie arrived with four forks. One friend didn't even touch her fork. Me and the other friend half-heartedly took a few bites. My ex obliviously ate half of each piece. Then, when it become clear that no one else wanted any more, she pulled the piece of caramel apple her way, happily devouring the rest of it. She let out another belch, following it up with, "Oof, excuse me."
One of her friends laughed, "Dang girl, you get enough to eat?"
My ex nervously chuckled. "I was really hungry. I've barely eaten anything all day," she lied. She adjusted herself a bit more. Then she looked up at the remaining half of the French Silk.
"...is anyone gonna eat that?"