Chapter 2

Over the next few days the beer supplies began to diminish at a lessening rate. I pushed my limited culinary abilities, keeping her well fed. To be honest I was finding something enjoyable in keeping her slightly better than well fed. There was a practical reason to keep her full as it slowed her beer consumption. And taking care of her was satisfying in a way I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. But there was also something deeper. A twinge of desire that I couldn't explain.

The sixth day was a real breakthrough. It was mid morning and I was sitting with a coffee in front of the fire playing around on an acoustic guitar when she came in, coffee in hand, wearing one of my old tee shirts. It was huge on her and fit her like a nightie. She curled up on the couch beside me and held a book, a trashy novel, she had found in the bookcase and asked. “Mind if I read this?” I was stunned. Nodded and said “Be my guest.” We sat there peacefully, her reading and me strumming for one blissful minute before she sipped her coffee and began to gag. “What is it? Are you okay?” Her spluttering turned into laughter. “I thought I made it right, but this is disgusting! It's so strong.” We both laughed, then I took her cup and made her a fresh one. After that the two of us sat and the clock ticked away. It was sweet and companionable.

At midday I decided I would make us some lunch. Cherry stayed curled up on the couch, fully sucked into her novel now. I set to work in the kitchen. Like I said I was no great shakes in the kitchen, but there was ground beef in the fridge and plenty of pasta in the pantry so Spaghetti Bolognese it is. It was one of the only things I could cook when I was young, broke and not yet famous. I needed something to impress the ladies and it was incredible how impressed they were with a guy that could cook.

I was never great about measurements and potions though. At eighteen leftovers were a real bonus and even now I figured leftover spaghetti won’t go to waste. As it turned out I didn’t need to worry about leftovers.

I was never very specific about what I wanted the agent to stock the house with. I wasn’t generally fussy, but when I found frozen garlic bread in the oven I decided they had earned a bonus. It wasn’t long before I had a saucepan of simmering sauce, garlic bread in the oven and a huge saucepan of water with a pinch of salt slowly coming to boil. I wasn’t until then that I caught sight of Cherry. She had ditched her book and had sat forward on the couch. And there were some pretty obvious tells she had hit a wall of sorts. She was staring into the fire, knee giggling, biting the side of her thumb nail. I called out to her, “You want a drink?” and to make sure there was no misunderstanding added, “I got root beer, coke and a bunch of other sodas in the fridge. It seemed like, just at the sound of my voice she came back to herself a little. She even gave a weak smile as she said, “Sure, a rootbeer would be great.” She came over to the counter and I noticed a slight shake to her hand as she took the can I handed her. “Do you want a glass?” I asked, but she had already opened the can and downed half of it. It did seem to help. The second half disappeared just as quick. “Another?” She gave a slightly embarrassed nod. I handed it over and she took a sip. I dropped the pasta into the boiling water and asked, “You hungry?” She seemed to think a moment, then answered, “I really am.” The truth of the answer seemed to surprise her. Like she hadn’t been hungry, just hungry for good, old fashioned home cooking in a long time. It made me smile. “Good, cause I’ve made a lot.”

I’ve never been a big eater. When we were on the road I would generally try to have one big meal a day and then grab something light when I really needed it. When I was home alone I kept the habit going. I would usually have a light breakfast, a hearty lunch and light dinner. And this was no exception, so I did what I would normally do. A big, sustaining portion for lunch and I gave her the same.

She set the table while I plated up and got the garlic bread out of the oven. While I worked I watched her. She was still jittery, sipping rootbeer, and fidgeting. I brought the food over and she took a seat. I realized what a ridiculous portion it was when I saw the mountain of spaghetti on the giant plate sitting in front of her. She looked at me as if for approval and I said, “Tuck in.” and she did. Twirling pasta on to her fork and slipping it into her mouth. Her eyes closed and she gave a ‘mmmm’ of delight. Her eyes popped open and she looked at me. “This is really good!” I gave a modest nod and started eating too. After the first fork her pace picked up, coupled with delighted moans. I watched her as she seemed to go into an almost hypnotic state. More and more. I was shocked and amazed at her appetite. It felt like no time before the plate was empty. I wordlessly stood, took her plate and returned it full. As I sat down I pushed the garlic bread towards her and she and she grabbed a chunk, eating fork in one hand bread in the other, taking in turns for bread fork bread. Occasionally she would stop, sit back, eyes closed and rub her belly. That’s when I felt the first real twinge of arousal. Seeing this skinny girl stroking her belly.

By the time I filled her plate for the third time my erection had painfully pushed down the leg of my jeans. I was worried I was going to injure myself, but I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Apart from being very sexy there was a primal-ness to how she was eating. Something that was doing her good. Her head was down close to her plate as she slurped spaghetti up, a ring of sauce had gathered around her mouth. She looked like an orphan from a prediction of Oliver Twist. When the last noodle was gone, she used the last last piece of garlic bread to mop the sauce from her plate. She washed it down with a slug of root beer. The look of surprised embarrassment that flashed across her face as a small burp escaped was sexy as hell. She turned those huge brown eyes on me. I think there had always been a vulnerability to her, hidden behind her wild exterior. That’s part of what attracted me to her in the first place. Now it was on full display. All she said was, “Sorry”. I gave her a grin and said, “Don’t be sweetheart, better out than in.” She touched her face to find the smear of pasta sauce. “But I was such a pig. I don’t…” I cut her off, reaching out and stroking her fringe back from her face. “Honey, there's nothing sexier than a girl with a healthy appetite.” She gave me a soft sweet smile. I stood saying, “Come on, relax.” and scooped her up in my arms.

I carried her to the couch and sat her down and knelt down in front of her so we were eye level. She looked into my eyes, her own huge brown eyes filled with desire, then she looked down and said, “I know I’m a bit, um, gross right now but, um would you… Do you want to have sex with me?” I gently touched her chin and guided her face back up to mine. She was beautiful. Her mouth ringed with sauce, her eyes timid. It was humbling, I felt privileged to see this side of her. I had not been with someone in this way, this vulnerable, in a long time. I kissed her. It was slow and passionate. I kissed her neck and shoulder, pulling aside the ancient tee shirt she wore. I slid to the floor, on my knees in front of her and guided the shirt over her head.

Underneath she wore a pair of old white cotton panties, the elastic almost gone. Nothing like the lingerie and thongs I'd seen her in before. She had never been so sexy. She was still thin. Too thin. As she was eating, I wondered where she was, putting it all. Now I knew. The days of beer and proper meals, plus today's pasta had given her a small but very round pot belly. It looked painfully full and this sent an unexpected thrill through me. I ran my fingers through her hair, caressing her face with my thumb, then gently pulled her towards me and kissed her again. I undid my belt and pants, sliding off my jeans, then her panties. She slid her ass to the edge of the couch pushing herself against my hard cock. She broke the kiss to pull my shirt off, then slid her foot behind my ass and pulled me in, guiding me into her. Our rhythm was slow, almost lazy. We were in no rush. Just enjoying each other. Feeling every thrust and retreat. We kissed, fondling each other like teenagers, but the easy rhythm was constant. I grabbed her by the hips and my thumbs rested either side of her round belly and I felt the beginning of the end. I stroked the side of her belly with the back of my hand and I felt her shiver and her breath hitched. I began to breathe heavily. Maintaining the same pace but driving Hader. Deeper. An involuntary moan escaped her lips and suddenly we were both at the point of no return. I picked up my pace and could feel her pushing hard against me. I kissed her as the flood gates opened. We both panted and moaned as the orgasm crashed over us. We slowed, dragging out the final moments of pleasure pulling almost all the way out then driving in deep and holding. Our rhythm slowed and slowed until we were spent. She fell back against the couch, pushing her hair back, those big brown eyes once again looking sweet and vulnerable. The smile that accompanied it made her look ten years younger. “It hasn’t been like that in a long time.” I leant in and kissed her. I’m not sure it's ever been quite like that for me.”

*Hope you enjoy this one. Let me know what you think*