chapter 3 - saturday pt ii

"So you just came up with that cupcake recipe yourself?" Jeff's cheeks were flushed after having several glasses of Bellinis. I was feeling pretty flushed myself, after having been brought one every time he refreshed his own.
"I've always liked baking and cooking. It's just not something I want to do professionally." I nibbled away at the last cookie on the plate in front of me. Over the course of an hour, Jeff and I had drunkenly gotten to know each other and I'd eaten my way through petit fours, cookies, cupcakes, and lots of pieces of chocolate covered fruit. I'd broken my promise to myself and had completely indulged, but at least I'd met somebody.
Just then, the woman with the dark hair and green eyes came out onto the deck.
"Babe, are you ready to go?"
Jeff tilted his head back in his chair, looking at her upside down, "Oh come on Rachel! We're talking cupcakes over here." Rachel walked over and put her hands on his face, kissing his upside-down chin. "Oh honey, you're drunk." she said, and then to me, "See? I told you he's big on cupcakes." In my drunken stupor, I didn't know what else to do but laugh.
I'd managed to get my heart broken twice in the past 48 hours. It must have been some kind of record.
I stood up and walked inside, leaving Jeff and Rachel on the deck. The party had died down quite a bit, but there was still food on the table. "Fuck it" I thought, but also said aloud as I went over and made myself another plate. This time I didn't bother controlling myself. I knew what I liked because I'd tried everything, so I piled potato salad onto the plate and then put on top of it pieces of the fried chicken, grabbing a fat thigh and two drumsticks. I balanced the last few pieces of pizza on top and carefully took my mess over to the couch. I ate ravenously. Cheyenne sat down next to me and put a drink in front of me. "You've seemed stressed honey, try the strawberry champagne. It's yummy!" She rubbed my back and I hiccuped a bit. "Thanks, Cheyenne. I appreciate you inviting me today, it was nice."
She beamed proudly, "I see you liked the food?" I laughed, too drunk at this point to care what anybody thought of my depression eating. "It's all so good. You can see I can't stop!" I was already scraping the last of the potato salad off of the plate. I had gone back into that zone where all I wanted to do was keep eating, so that the only thing I felt was the aching pulse of my engorged tummy, packed with food. "Well, there's no sense in having a bunch of leftovers. I'll pack some up for you!" Cheyenne went to the kitchen to get tupperware containers, calling over her shoulder "And have some more desserts before you go!" She didn't have to tell me twice.
I stood, and this time the tightness of the fabric of my dress around my belly didn't loosen up. I looked down and the dip of my belly button could be seen through the soft yellow cotton. I tried to suck it in, but couldn't. Maybe Cheyenne wouldn't notice. Feeling a bit self-conscious after seeing my stomach poking out so noticeably, I didn't pile the sweets onto my plate the way I had with the potato salad and chicken. Instead I carefully picked out a handful of cookies and of course, one of my cupcakes.
I took the plate back to the couch and ate it while I waited for Cheyenne to return with the containers of food. She packed up so many separate little containers that I was nearly done with the desserts when she met me at the couch.
"Thanks again, Cheyenne. I really needed this today." I stood and her eyes drifted down to my stomach.
"It's no problem, sweetie. I'm so glad you could come!" She leaned in for a hug and I felt my swollen belly push against her lean frame. When she squeezed me, I moaned a little and she stepped back, concerned. "Are you okay?" Embarrassed, I turned my eyes away from her and bent to pick up the containers and get the hell out of there. Now that I was standing, the alcohol and food was making me feel light and heavy at the same time. Like I could fly but I was also falling. I wanted more than anything to just lay in my bed and rub my belly. I was starting to feel that full, aching pulse that comes when you eat more than you should, and I'd eaten (and drank) way more than I should have.
"Oof, yeah I'm just full. Like, I said everything was delicious. I think I just overdid it." Cheyenne's eyes were on my stomach again, poking out through my dress. To my surprise, Cheyenne reached out and touched it.
"Oh wow, you really are full." She looked up at me and smiled. I didn't know what to say. I was shocked and a little uncomfortable, but it felt good to be touched somewhere that felt so sensitive. "This is why I love cooking. This--" she slapped my stomach playfully and then began to rub it in slow circles. "Nothing is better than sending somebody home feeling satisfied." She gave my belly a light squeeze and then picked up the containers, leading me to the door. She put them in my hands, but before opening the door she leaned down and pressed her full, soft lips into mine. She kissed me slowly, holding my belly on either side and then giving it one last playful slap before pushing me out the door and closing it behind me.
I stood there for a moment, shocked by what had just happened. Maybe it was all a drunken dream? I walked back across the hall to my apartment and put the food containers down on my kitchen table. Immediately I went into my bedroom and took off my sundress. I looked at myself in the mirror. My stomach was bloated at least as big as the night before. Fast food will blow you up, but real food you can eat so much more of. My belly felt three time heavier than it did full of McDonald's. I bent over and let it hang, but immediately had to stand up straight again because the weight of the food packed inside me was too much to bear.
I stretched my arms high above my head and then placed my hands gingerly on my belly, rubbing in slow circles. My hand migrated down toward my pussy and I stumbled onto my bed. With one finger sliding up and down my wet lips and one hand caressing my mountainous, engorged ball of a belly I made myself cum. Exhausted, I closed my eyes.
But a knock on the front door brought me back to reality. I threw on my bathrobe and went to look through my peephole. It was Cheyenne.
I opened the door and she looked at me sweetly, "Hey, honey! Sorry to bother you. You forgot your cupcakes."