Chapter 2 - the next week part 1

It was Friday of the next week, about 5 days later, and he hadn’t noticed any significant changes since the session. However, their schedules had been slightly conflicting since. He’d had to stay late at work for the last four days, and she, though working from home, was either asleep or exhausted by the time he got in. He wasn’t really concerned. He just wondered if the whole thing had been a waste of time.

He walked inside per usual, saw that she had already started on dinner without him, and walked into the living room where she was halfway through a decently sized chunk of lasagna.

“Oh good. I’m glad you didn’t wait on me. I’m sorry that I’m just now getting home.” He said while kicking off his shoes.

She paused the tv. “No worries. I assume since that’s been the pattern this week.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I swear it's the exception and not the rule. I should be back to normal hours by the end of next week.” Walking past the kitchen, he noticed two filled to the brim, deep lasagna trays cooling. One of which was already half-eaten. “This smells amazing! When did you have the time for lasagna? I’m not that late, am I?”

“They were updating something or other for work, and I had the option to take a half-day,” she said while stuffing a huge bite into her mouth. She chewed enough to talk around it and continued, “Then I got kind bored and figured I would make enough lasagna that I could freeze a bunch,” swallowing the mouthful, “and eat it over the next week or so. I had some when it first came out. Then I was just bored again and still hungry. I realized into the final bites of my second piece that I couldn’t remember the last time I was genuinely, uncomfortably full, and suddenly I wasn’t bored anymore.” As she cut up and put another substantial forkful into her mouth.

“I’d like to say I’m sorry that I didn’t get home sooner…” Trailing off, not sure if he wants to make known how much of a turn-on this is. “Well, I suppose the lingering questions are: How long ago was that, and have you gotten any closer to full yet?”

She swallowed her bite and looked at the time on her phone. A look of shock on her face. “Oh geez. You are home late. Well, I finished the second piece about 3 hours ago, and I am closer but still not uncomfortably full yet. I really thought the last 2 pieces and the light snacking in between were going to get me there, but, alas, not there yet.” Shoving another hunk of lasagna into her mouth.

“You know, it seems like taking your time is what’s keeping you from hitting max fullness.”

“I’m aware. It turns out I'm pretty comfortable at the stage of ‘just about full’ that I’m currently edging around. Besides, if I rushed it, I would be bored again but uncomfortable on top of it. Well, that and…” pausing with a little smile, “nothing. Never mind. I forgot what I was talking about.” Another forkful finds its way into her mouth.

“Fair enough. I’m gonna put on comfy clothes, grab some of that,” gesturing towards the plate on her stomach, “and join you on the couch.”

She blushed a little and bit her lower lip. She just saw the look on his face when he noticed that her sweatpants and underwear were tucked under her swollen belly.

He hurriedly got changed and cut himself a piece of the lasagna. It was about twice as high as her usual recipe. There was a significant pool of oil and butter on the bottom of the pan, and there had to be at least 4 pounds of cheese in the half that remained of the first tray. The piece he took was much larger than he could eat. He didn’t plan on eating that much of it. He used a paper towel to wipe up some of the juice from the counter and saw what was in the trash when he threw it away. There were 2 party-sized bags of chips, a box of Oreos, and the sleeve from a 6 pack of bagels that was full this morning. Snacking indeed…

He joined her on the couch. Plate empty and her feet up on the ottoman, she looked comfortable, slightly leaning back, a pillow behind her lower back, engrossed in her show and lightly caressing her bloated stomach.

He realized how insanely rich it was at first bite. At the fourth forkful, he leaned over and put it in front of her mouth instead. With almost no reaction, she just opened her mouth and took it in. For the next several bites, he alternated between himself and feeding her. At the halfway point, he was done but kept feeding the rest of it to her while she never took her eyes away from the screen. He fed her slowly, letting her savor and rest between each bite, knowing better than to rush it and stuff her to discomfort too early.

She finishes the plate without batting an eye. He grabs both plates and takes them into the kitchen. He walks back in to see the credits rolling on her show.

She looks at him. “You don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?”

“Fortunately, no. The weekend is ours.”

“Yay! Then how do you feel about staying up and watching a movie?”

“Sounds great. You pick, though. I promise I will enjoy anything. I don’t want to have to pick it out.”

“Perfect,” she said and hit play on something she had apparently already picked out, which he was indeed fine with. “Before you sit down,” pausing the studio logo and sheepishly looking at him, “could you grab some snacks and shut off the lights.”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Oh, surprise me. I ordered a bunch of groceries earlier so we would have tons of snacks for the next week. Just get what you think is enough so we won’t have to get up during the movie for more. Oh, could you put the second lasagna away but leave the other one out. I’m not done with it yet.”

“Okay,” he said, spinning on his heels and heading to the kitchen with a throbbing erection.