chapter 11- reckoning (p4.2)

“*Buuurrrrpp!!*” Emma awoke with a thunderous belch that reeked of beer and tequila. Strange, he hadn’t found a bottle of tequila anywhere. Paul watched, as Emma groggily blinked her eyes, adjusting to the light, and then focused her curious gaze on him and burst with a big smile, “Pauuul! Didn’t thinkk I’d sssee youu tonight.”

She sounded drunk as fuck. He knew he was pretty wasted at the moment too, but Emma didn’t need to know that. Trying to speak as properly as possible, Paul responded, “What are you.. what are you doing?”

“I dunno.. but I can’t movee.. I thinks I ate’ss too muchh.. *Urrpp!*” Emma gleefully recounted with a smaller burp, as she winked at Paul and continued, “Hmhm! I’vee been suchh a good piggyyy!”

“She told youu? She told you, didn’t she?” Paul questioned hoping he wouldn’t have to break the news to Emma while she was in such a vulnerable state. He had a solemn concern in his voice for Emma’s feelings.

“Shee told everybodyy..” Emma pouted pretending not to care, “Soo, where is the fiancée? I figur’d you’d be off getting lucky tonight.”

“She has an exam tomorrow morning so.. she’s staying on campus.” Paul slowly explained trying not to slur his words, as he felt a wave of relieve overcome him. It would have been awkward if she didn’t know he was engaged, and he’d had to inform her. Although, now he was deeply concerned why Emma was lying naked in his bed piss drunk. What if he’d brought Claire home with him tonight? How would she have reacted to this?? His first instinct was to get a little pissed at Emma, her stupid choice could have ruined everything. Yet looking at her now, he was more overwhelmed with pity. She seemed quite sad, and he knew why. Trying to maintain a normal tone despite the abnormal situation, Paul added, “but she’ll be over.. tomorrow night.”

“Bee honesttt.. Youu can tell mee if youu two lovebugss had sex at the restaurant. *Buurrp!* I can keep a secret.” Emma belched, as her voice grew more inquisitive and higher in pitch, “You did Clairee-bearr in the bathroom didn’t youu??”

“What makes you think.. we would do that?” Paul cautiously wondered out loud trying not to betray the extent of his own drunkenness, while part of him wished he and Claire had done something like that. Although it wasn’t something Claire would probably ever do because of her strong moral conscious.

“It’s what I would have donee if I was in her shoess.” Emma purred rather seductively, as her tubby arms clutched the sides of her soft stomach fat and pressed against herself until she belched again, “*UUrrp!* Assuming I wasn’t too FAT to fit in one of thosee bathroom stallsss.”

“You would have fit.” Paul noted with an amused smile, “Barely.”

“Ha.” Emma blushed enjoying Paul’s little acknowledgement of how enlarged she’d managed to bloat herself tonight. Although, she seemed to get annoyed with something he said because she scrunched up her face before uttering her next sentence, “It’ss bullssshit shee didn’t fuck youu right then and theree. It’ss not right.”

“Are youu okay?” Paul wondered with concern overflowing from his voice.

“Peachyy, whyyy?” Emma lied, as she tried to keep a stiff upper lip.

“Cause you.. look sad.” Paul pointed out, while Emma seemed unable to refute his accusation.

“I might havee been crying, a littlee bit, jusst a lil when I heard the newss, but I swear most of the tearss were tears of joy for you two dummies.” Emma tried to convincingly express, as she added, “I’m happy for youu guyss. I reallyy am. Honestlyy.”

“Most of the tears?” Paul questioned, while he sat down next to Emma’s belly and did his best not to stare at her exposed, fat-engorged breasts, as he stared into her chubby face.

“Shut up.” Emma bit her lip to hold in her sad feelings, and did her best to change the subject, “Soo tell mee about everything?? Will youu?”

“Well, I proposed.. just how I always wanted to.” Paul answered seeing the pain in Emma’s eyes.

“Haha, I knew it.” Emma commented, as Paul didn’t really react.

“Claire’s going to move in this summer.” Paul continued explaining, while Emma looked at him with her complete attention, “If she takes enough.. classes in the summer and manages to get her internship to count for credit, she’ll have enough credits to.. *Ahem* graduate by August.”

“August?? She’s trying to graduatee a full year eearly?” Emma nearly gasped with a little feigned surprise.

“She is. She wants to get married in Sseptember.” Paul finished his thought and was a little pissed with himself that he’d slurred the very last word. As if picking up that he was a little tipsy, Emma sent him a cruel looking smile.

“Damn Paulll better watch out. She’s gonna want kidss from you prettyy soon!” Emma teased, as Paul tried not to give Emma the satisfaction of getting him riled up.

“Haha, hopefully not too soon.” Paul slowly spoke trying to measure his response, “She said your parents would either pay for a down payment on a house as a wedding gift or pay for the whole honeymoon, so we are looking into some cruises.”

“Sounds likee sooo muchh fun.” Emma enthused in a very gleefully fake tone.

“It will be.” Paul assured her, while he looked over his woefully encumbered feedee, “What are your plans?”

“At the moment.. I’vee onlyy got short term plans..” Emma tipsily revealed proudly, as she playfully grasped her belly, “I’m gonna keep stuffing myselff everydayy, until my bellyy bloats so big and tight that I can’t bend overr.”

“You’re going to keep gaining?” Paul questioned with interest. Emma looked intoxicated by her own gluttony. He wondered if it was just the alcohol or the fact that Emma had become wholly consumed by her pursuit of the feedee fetish.

“How am I goingg to stop? Paulll, my tonguee constantly craves the taste of sugar. My mouth loves the feeling of being filled with bulky sustenance. My throat only feels satisfied when I’m swallowing obscene amounts of food. And my bellyy is only at peace when I’ve eaten soo muchh that I can’t stand up. I think I.. I think I hate not feeling full.”

“You just wanna feel stuffed 24/7?” Paul echoed with much more than a modicum of respect in his voice.

“Like a turkey on thanksgiving.” Emma sweetly cooed, as she struggled to sit upward before her giant belly inevitably thwarted her, “I don’t *ugh* wanna stop Paulll.”

“You’re going to need help.” Paul noted, while he enjoyed watching Emma struggle to sit upward.

“I’ll find someone.” Emma grunted, as she made eye contact with Paul, “They’re out there.”

“You’re not using tinder again, are you?” Paul judgingly questioned, while he spotted Emma’s phone on his nightstand, next to a half empty bottle of tequila, and grabbed the phone.

“Heyy! Don’t touch that!” Emma grunted, as she tried to reach for Paul, but he inched out of her way. Her pudgy arms didn’t have that long of range.

He unlocked Emma’s phone, originally intending on deleting her tinder app, until his eyes caught a notification that she had a message from Claire. While Emma drunkenly yammered on about him invading her privacy. He decided to see what the two women in his life had been talking about tonight. Emma went through his phone all the time anyway.