Vegetables make you fat

chapter 3

The sun had set long ago, replaced by the silver rays of the full moon. If not for the mindless banter of the television, the faint sound of mooing cattle could be heard as they were herded back into their stalls.
We sat side by side against a wall of pillows, barely touching each other. Jessica munched on her salad endlessly; the sound of crunching vegetables a rhythmic background noise as I tried to concentrate on Breaking Bad.
“I’m brushing my teeth,” she said suddenly, scooting off the bed.
“What?” I asked. “But you haven’t finished all the food yet,” food I hadn’t taken part in, I thought resentfully.
“I’m full,” Jessica snapped, swishing her hips as she reached the bathroom door. “I don’t want to get fat or anything.”
When she opened the door, her nose wrinkled prematurely, waiting for the stink, but thankfully, the smell was gone.
“Fat?” I asked lazily. “On salad?”
“Look, I didn’t say I was getting fat; I’m just full.”
“But you said… nevermind.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“What? Where did that come from?”
“You’re so rude all the time! Why do I even bother with you?”
“Jessica, you’re not fat and you don’t have to worry about getting fat. You are what you eat. That’s what you said, right?”
She didn’t answer, but instead leaned over a sink I couldn’t quite see from my angle and began brushing her teeth. I returned to Breaking Bad, but sighed as it cut to commercial. It was a fast food advertisement, though, and my mouth watered at the sight of melting cheese and sizzling beef. Ah, Burger King. You always want me to have it my way; I should’ve dated you instead…
“You know,” Jessica began striding back in the room, boobs jostling in her polo shirt. “If they just let the vegetarian restaurants air equal commercial time, Americans would be so much thinner…”
Her voice trailed off, and she stopped amidst the glow of the moonlight.
“What’s up?” I asked. “I was listening. Look, I swear I won’t be tempted by those burgers…”
“Wait… just…” she waved her hands, staring down.
“What’s wrong?”
“My tits,” she whispered, fingers splayed delicately on their sides, the mounds of flesh covered with goosebumps. “They’re…”
With an orgasmic gasp, Jessica gawked as her left boob suddenly popped to twice its size. Another short gasp, and her right boob followed suit. She fondled them softly, bewildered as much as shocked.
“What the fuck just happened?” I asked as I stared at her massive cleavage, eyes tracing the outline of flesh overflowing the bra cups within the shirt.
She looked at me, all hints of grace and contempt gone from her face. Then she turned to the television, where another commercial was finishing.
Got milk? The screen flashed in black and white.
The sound of stretching fabric sounded within her polo shirt. The boobs creaked against their confines as they swelled and ripened.
“What’s happening?” I asked uselessly.
“I can’t breathe…” she huffed. “Help me! Just help me you useless… uh!”
Acting aimlessly, I moved to somehow release the bra, but as my hands dug into her polo shirt past her cleavage, the thing popped off, allowing the swollen mammaries to sway against her shirt and against my palms. A finger brushed one of her nipples; it was large and hard.
Jessica gawked at my hands as they squeezed her swollen, white melons together. A mix of shock, anger, and perhaps lust twisted the features of her face. “What… what’s happened to my tits?” she glared at me. “Darby! What’s happening?”
“I dunno…” I flexed my hands against the malleable flesh. For days I had waited to hold them in my hands, and now that it was happening, it was far more thrilling than I ever imagined. “You’re the expert… you tell me!”
She slapped her hands on mine, as full of loathing for my violation of her personal space as she was full of lust. Her grip lingered, the polo shit the only thing between her hands and mine, and the impact made her breasts wobble like water balloons.
“Was it something I ate?” she inhaled sharply. Then, amidst the confusion of emotions welling within her, rage broiled to the surface. “Was it – was it shellfish?”
I frowned, fingers tapping against her goosebumped breasts. “What? Shellfish?”
“Get your hands… off of me!” she raged, throwing my hands back out of her shirt. She stumbled slightly as her tits bounced against her shirt, glaring at me with hatred beyond all logic. “I’m allergic to shellfish!” she yelled. “That stupid bellboy put shellfish in my food!”
“Uh…” I was still confused by the whole situation. “You sure that’s what…”
“Call roomservice right now!” Jessica pointed at the landline phone. “They need to explain this!”
“Okay,” I sighed, walking over to the bed and sitting by the phone.