chapter 13

By the time Peter and Felicia made it back to his apartment, Peter was out of breath and flushed. He immediately collapsed onto the couch while Felicia gently placed the two pies on the coffee table. There was so much debris and fast food packaging scattered around the place, she had to set them on top of a small stack of empty pizza boxes. Felicia went to the kitchenette and put on the kettle while Peter sat and let his heavy breathing slow.

Several minutes later Felicia returned to the couch with two large mugs of steaming hot tea. Peter had regained enough composure that he could speak again.

"Hey Felicia, I forgot to ask you about this... Remember when I bumped into you during your jewlery heist? Well, I found a bracelet. I meant to return it to the police, but now I can't find it..."

Felicia nodded and sipped her mug of tea. "I saw it here the other day. I recognized it, and I've put it with the other items I... liberated that night."

"Oh..." Peter's fiingers fidgited as his hands and forearms rested atop his moobs.

"Here," Felicia said, and handed a cup of tea to Peter, "try this. It will relax you after all that exercise, and help your digestion."

Peter gave a weak smile as he accepted the mug. He sipped from it while considering how to broach a difficult topic.

"Felicia, I really care about you... And I really think you should return those stolen items."

Sitting next to him on the couch, Felicia's head was cocked slightly to one side. Her expression of possible confusion quickly softened into a kind smile. Her gaze drifted down into her mug. Peter sat, unmoving, nervous for her reaction. When her gaze lifted to meet his eyes he thought she looked more open and honest then perhaps he had ever seen her.

"You really want me to go straight, don't you? You really do care about all that 'right' and 'wrong.' Despite the fact that your crime-fighting days are clearly behind you," she said, as her eyes danced over his balooned body.

Peter nodded with a solemn expression.

Felicia put down her mug of tea, and looked at Peter, her lips pursed. She let out a sigh. Leaning up against him, she placed a hand on the side of his face and the double chin that obscured his neck. Her other hand squeezed his chubby wrist, which was still resting on top of the shelf created by his moobs.

"Peter, I really don't want what we have together right now to end. If going 'straight' is the only way for us to continue, then... well, I really need to consider it. I can't tell you right this minute that I can be who you want me to be - that wouldn't be honest to you. But I will consider it. I just don't know... how to do it, you know? But we will continue to have this discussion. Because I know it is important for you, if we were to stay together..."

As she talks, Felicia's hand slid from Peter's wrist, onto the great mound of his breast, carressing it lightly. Her thumb lightly toying with his nipple. She delighted in how large and soft his chest had grown, with breasts the size of bed pillows. With his hairless chest it looked quite feminine.

"That's wonderful Felicia," Peter said, his smile making his chubby cheeks look all the more round. "And I will do whatever I can to help you make this transition."

Felicia sat up straight, raised her hands up behind her head. She pulled her silver mane into a ponytail as she spoke. The softness had left her voice entirely - now she was stern, all business.

"Ok. Finish that tea Peter, and we can start on those pies."

Peter glanced at the pies. "Oh, I don't know if I can eat them right now-" he began, but she cut him off.

"That's what the tea is for. Drink it down, and then I can start feeding you those pies." She placed her hand on Peter's mug and helped force it to his mouth. He drank obediently. "Then, after you're done, I am going to take you to bed... for your dessert." She grinned that sly grin of hers. "If you know what I mean? I think that tongue of yours will still need a work-out."

Peter's eye were wide as Felicia took the mug from his hands and brought the first pie up to his chest. She started to lift forkfuls directly into his mouth. With a resigned sigh, Peter accepted and chewed and swalllowed in time for the next piece. The rhythm of it, combined with the feeling of fullness and the sugary sweetness, lulled him into a daze, and his eating seemed to take on the character of a machine.