Chapter 1

“More?” you ask. I bite my lip hesitantly, then give a reluctant nod. Suddenly you’re all smiles, only too eager to load up my plate. I make a point to gape as you give me just as much food as before. Do you really think I can eat this much?


Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?

It’s cute the way you think you’re being so subtle. If only you knew the truth. Do you really think I don’t notice what you’re doing? The way you always offer me seconds, and even thirds? Your too-casual suggestions of dessert afterwards? And then there’s that grin, on your face even now, when I’ve given in to your prompting.


You really do think you’re in charge as you nudge me towards displays like this, as though I haven’t noticed my body growing soft and thick. But I did notice. I’ve known from the very beginning.


And I’ve let it happen.


I’ll give you points for your initial subtlety—a little encouragement here, just a hint dropped there—but it didn’t last. Soon you were all but pushing me to eat more, more, more, and what had been a gradual change soon became something I couldn’t ignore. But I played the game, and delighted in the way your eyes lit up each time I reached a new milestone.


The day I had to retired my skinny jeans because I couldn’t button them anymore.


The time I complained about the way my thighs were starting to rub together.


The moment when you realized I had to buy new panties because my old ones wouldn’t’ fit over my ass anymore.


God, you loved every bit of it, didn’t you?


To your credit, you tried acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but I was always watching for the way your eyes lingered on the soft curve of my belly as it marched further and further over my waistband. Or the way you’d lick your lips when I so obviously adjusted my pants after yet another big meal. You were ecstatic, and thought you hid it so well.


But you’ve never had much capacity for discretion.


I shift in my chair, taking care to make sure my shirt pops up just a little bit. Enough to show some skin, at least. You reward me with a slight hitch to your breath as my belly flashes you, and then you’re making an adjustment to your own pants.


Maybe it was time to have a little fun…


I sigh dramatically, then smack my belly with both hands. You look up just in time to see the ripple pass move through me, up through my breasts and arms, down through my thighs. I see the flicker of something in your eyes. Excitement, I’m sure, but something else, too. Panic? Guilt? Maybe a little of both?


This was going to be so much fun!


“We need to talk.”


You stiffen, so quickly I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been looking. But it was enough to tell me everything.


“What’s going on?” There’s an adorable nervousness in your tone that makes it hard not to smile.


I cross my arms over my stomach—not that the motion hides that much these days—and let out another sigh. Heavier, more deliberate. “I’ve just been thinking,” I say slowly, watching you squirm from the corner of my eye. “I really have been getting fat lately, haven’t I?”


The color drains from your face as two disparate emotions—excitement and anxiety—got to war within your eyes. “What do you mean?”


Oh, sweetheart. You know exactly what I mean.


I glance down at myself, running my hand over the soft curve of my belly, then lift it an inch or two and let it drop. “I’m getting fat,” I say again. “And I don’t think it just happened.”


You open your mouth, then unsure of how to respond, you close it again. I can practically see the wheels in your head turning, trying to come up with the right thing to say.


I tilt my head, watching you as I let the silence stretch. Then, just as it’s starting to get uncomfortable, I open my mouth. “Have you been…pushing me?” My voice is soft, laced with hurt.


“Pushing you?”


“Encouraging me? Making sure I always eat just a little bit more?”


You’re starting to sweat.


“I…I just wanted you to enjoy yourself! I never meant—”


“Don’t lie to me!” I say, suddenly fierce. “You did, didn’t you!” I lean forward, squishing my belly against my thighs. It’s just enough to make you look down. You like it, don’t you? Watching me indulge! Watching me let myself go!”


Silence.


I shift myself again, deliberately making a show of adjusting my pants while incidentally squishing my thighs together. You swallow at the sight. Even when you think I’m about to break up with you, you still can’t help yourself.


“You do, don’t you?” I act like I’m blinking back tears, but my eyes are dry. “I can’t believe you did this to me!”


You look absolutely wrecked. I almost feel bad, but I’m enjoying myself too much.


“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just…just…”

It takes a long moment before you realizing I’m smiling.


“You did mean to,” I say, “and I let you.”


The expression on your face is priceless. Confusion. Disbelief. The slow, creeping realization that you had never been the one in control.


I lean back, feeling the familiar weight of my belly pressing me back against the cushion. “Oh, sweetheart,” I purred teasingly. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

“You…what?”


I laugh, low and soft. “I knew exactly what you were doing, right from the start. Every little suggestion, every extra serving. I noticed it all.” I shift again, in a way that made my shirt ride up the curve of my belly. Your eyes flicker down for just a second before you meet my gaze once more.


“It’s adorable. You thought you were guiding me.” I shook my head. “Everything you did, I let it happen to me.”


I watch as my confession sinks in, and your guilt is replaced by something else. Something darker, hungrier, something you try to push down but can’t quite suppress. I lean back with a smile on my lips.


“I’ve known your secret for a while. Now you know mine, too: that I wanted this just as much as you did.”


“And now what?” That look is still in your eyes.

I gesture towards my plate, still piled high with food. “Now we both get to enjoy it.”