Appetizer four

Chapter 1 - appetizer four

Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, Betsy sighed as she lowered the full girth of her jutting belly down upon the chilly tabletop. She might have been embarrassed had it not been such a damn relief. She really needed to cut back, but with the pregnancy dragging on and Hank’s constant record-keeping on her caloric intake, every opportunity needed to be taken advantage of. So when Debra extended her an invitation to their house-warming party, Betsy was all too quick to jump at the opportunity.

She reached for another small sandwich, hesitating only briefly to pry the toothpick out and fling it haphazardly aside. It was gone in two bites. Ham and swiss. Not bad, off to join all the others. She chuckled to herself and drank the last of her punch, stretching to refill the glass from the nearby punch bowl.

She hadn’t expected Hank to want to come, but it made sense when she finally put two and two together. His recent flurry of comments about her weight and cutting back. The diet suggestion and “doctorly” advice. He was monitoring her, trying to keep her in line. When the realization had first settled, she’d been furious and confronted him immediately. It’d blown up into a big argument with little resolution. How dare he try to control her. She’d never been a big eater anyway. At least not before the pregnancy. Now, granted, she may have let her discipline drop over the past seven months, but it wasn’t like that was abnormal or anything. She had cravings. Eating for two and all that. Who did he think he was?

It only made the allure of eating that much more appealing. Overeating was taboo in their relationship now. Forbidden. He was chaperoning her and getting away with a little extra was all the more satisfying. Wasn’t it always?

So he’d come. They’d arrived and mingled with the other guests in Debra’s big beautiful home. All white tablecloths and crystal candelabras. Flowers everywhere, so that their cloying fragrance hung heavy in the air. It was like something out of a movie.

And Betsy wasted no time finding and casing out the table of finger foods. She hadn’t been disappointed! What a spread! Everything was there. Chips and dip all the way down to a party platter of still warm chicken fingers. It beckoned her like an old lover. A veritable feast. However, Hank had already picked up on her plan. She remembered staring wide-eyed at all the perfectly aligned plates and dips, even as his hand fell gently on her shoulder. A slight tug, a whispered word. “Remember our talk, gorgeous. Just one. Two at most. I mean it.” Then he tugged again, callused fingers grazing the sensitive flesh of her neck.

The table was deserted now. Most of the guests had gotten their food when they first arrived, and besides there was a toast going on in the other room. The clinking of glasses rang through the house. A tide of laughter followed by the gentle murmuring of voices. She stuffed down two more sandwiches, finishing one in a single bites. Cheeks bulging as she chewed. It was followed by some more chips and dip. She didn’t have much longer on this pass. Timing was crucial.

The first time she’d lost Hank hadn’t been on purpose. An old friend, Roger, had approached and introduced himself. She hadn’t recognized his grim face, but Hank was quick to react. An old friend, someone to catch up with, and as their conversation drug on she had found it was to disengage herself from the mingling and point herself towards her true goal. That first trip had been paradise, though she’d been careful, even then, to not stay overlong. No, if Hank realized her absence for long, he’d know where to look.

So she’d made laps. Excusing herself every fifteen minutes or when the opportunity presented itself. She’d break away from the crowd, leaving Hank’s attention diverted while she waddled back to the waiting food. Pass after pass after pass. What was this now? Her sixth? Frankly, she’d lost count. It didn’t really matter, did it? Oh fuck, the ice cream was to DIE for. Slightly melted, it slid down her throat and into her with ease. How long could she keep this up? She was beginning to worry. If she was being honest with herself, she’d expected to be caught by now. Pulled away and chastised, but her plan seemed to be working TOO well. She was getting full. The first few passes had been easy enough, but the frenzied choking down of food had given way to a steadily swelling of already engorged middle. Each pass leading to more leading to the next pass and still more food, until her blossoming jutting gut had begun to the test the seams of her dress.

It didn’t stop her, of course. It was just a momentary worry. The dress would hold. It always had, right? She belched and stuffed the final bite of a half-devoured cupcake into her mouth. She was hitting the wall.

Oh God, was she ever…

The steadily ballooning of her massive sphere was beginning to cause the lower hem of her dress to rise as it fought for more and more fabric. She was so tight, but still forcing more in. Who knew when another chance like this was coming along?

Out of time. Could she do another pass? She rubbed her taut gut and swiveled her body so that it dropped from the table’s edge. She almost fell forward from the momentum. Fuck… too much. Betsy placed both hands under her overfed belly for support and slowly waddled back towards the living room. Would Hank notice? Surely he would, right? She tried to suck it in and failed miserably. The sound of a side seam popping caught her attention.

One more pass. She could do one more, right?

Maybe two?