chapter 4-1

4.

It was a week after my hook up with Noka. That eventful night had been strange and wonderful in its own way, and things had gone further in the days since. The morning of fun after the party had turned into an all weekend affair. Then I was over his place every day after classes. Noka was a star, and I felt like a planet caught in his gravity field. As the week continued, and my belly stretched to capacity multiple times a day, I started to look like one.

We strolled naked through Noka’s expensive-looking apartment all week, hands never far from one another, making out and fucking on whatever we felt like. Noka delighted in pampering me. He drove me back and forth to campus, drinks were constantly refilled, he massaged me after our couplings, I hardly lifted a finger apart from going to the bathroom. Noka cooked for me around the clock, big carb-laden feasts he had learned about during his study abroad in Italy.

He was so attentive, always giving me extra as my plate started to empty. Despite still not loving my body I gobbled everything down with a smile. In my mind it was to show him how much I appreciated the pampering, but the way he treated me made me forget about my weight, made me melt into the flavors that I practically moaned over. I settled into a pattern of waking up from a food coma, fucking, and eating until I passed out. I knew Noka was just showing he cared, but it was like he wanted me to get fatter! By the time dinner time rolled around the Friday after our first hook up though, I finally regained some sort of lucidity.

I was curious about Noka. His preferences, what he wanted out of this. The way he pinched my soft parts and held my chubbier belly and ass. It was all very different from what my previous partners were into, the difference in how each appraised my body was stark. Everyone before Noka wanted taut flat stomachs, toned glutes. They ran their fingers over me to show they were enjoying the hard work I had put in. I loved being touched by Noka but something about those fingers, and where he put them, made me wonder if there was something else. He groped my softness like he owned it, something that would normally mortify me. At first I thought he was doing it to get a reaction. I would gasp whenever he found a new roll or bulge, and looking over he had a devilish grin on every time. Then he'd slap my bum and tell me I was sexy, usually followed by a blowjob or prostate massage. It was an incredible week, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that every pinch, every poke to my softer sides or ass might have ulterior motives. I also felt terrible in public.

I thought getting the man I was after all year would put those insecurities to bed, but it had been the opposite. I felt flabby next to Noka, both struggling to keep up to his pace when we were on campus, and the contrast of our naked bodies in the bedroom. People looked at me on his arm with shriveled noses, their thoughts obvious.

‘How is that chubster with him?’
‘Noka could have anyone, and he went after that butterball?’

Pair that with our less-than-defined relationship status and I was an emotional mess. Was this still just a fling? One we would both move on from and I could hit the gym? For the first couple days I had thought that. We certainly had enough sex to qualify, but there was… more. For one, he didn't just throw a rag at me and say how much he wanted to meet again before shoving me out the door like my other one night stands. We had gone to see a couple scary movies together. He had introduced me to some of his friends, the ones that didn’t row or go to parties. We threw snowballs at each other, panting and laughing as we collapsed into the white fluffiness of winter in upstate New York. Still, every night before I went to bed my hands flew to my puffy sides, painful thoughts creeping in.

‘He only likes you because you got fat,’ the voices inevitably sang, ‘the moment you slim down, he’ll be on to the next one.’

‘I like it,’ I could still hear Noka’s husky tone in my head. Could still picture how he patted my belly, like he owned it, and proudly too. I shuddered whenever I thought about how he said it, how he made me feel. All of it was incredibly hot at the moment, but now, stuffed with his cooking yet again, my bloated stomach threatening to touch my thighs, did I think this was maybe a bit… odd? I wanted to lose weight, but would Noka even bother with me then?

Dabbing sauce from the corner of my lips, I worked up the courage as Noka prepared dessert in the kitchen. It had taken longer than I expected. I could tell he was talking to someone on the phone, but their conversation couldn’t have felt further away. I summoned my resolve. The last thing I wanted was to make Noka feel like I was judging him, but I needed to know more before things went any further. If he had some kind of feeding fetish I was out of there, no way I’d turn into a blimp for him, no matter how rich or handsome- or smart or athletic or charming he may be. Shit, I was in deep.

I heaved my overfed form to a standing position off the couch and burped. The flavors of our last meal, greasy cheese and sauce from pasta, mozzarella sticks and garlic bread hit my tongue as I rubbed at the bloat. I belched a couple more times and patted the side of my belly. It felt firm and round, and wider? No, it had only been a week of this, I wasn’t swelling up like in one of those old ‘munchies’ PSA cartoons. At least, that’s what I told myself. I padded to the kitchen door, now hyper aware of the flesh that I swore to myself wasn’t getting bouncier. As I approached the door I heard that Noka was still on the phone. He sounded excited.

“You could really secure that for me? How soon? I see. That is expensive but… I think it is worth it for this one. He is… special.”

I felt warmth explode in my heart. I had no idea what Noka was talking about, but expensive? Me? Special? It sounded like some kind of gift, I loved what I was hearing. No one had ever talked about me that way before. I was ready to sit back down when I caught a hold of myself. No. I couldn’t go back yet. This wasn’t enough. There was the matter of the softness on my frame, how Noka’s attraction related to it. I had to know. I pushed the kitchen door and it swung open on oiled hinges. Noka looked up from his nearly-completed cheesecake with alarm.

“Everything okay, sexy?”

I wanted to say that everything was, but I couldn’t, not yet. I leaned on the counter next to him, a loud creak not making my weight issue seem any less, and took a deep breath.

“So you said… nevermind,” I mewed, turning away. Ever a good listener, Noka knew something was off.

“What is it?”