chapter four

Should she wake him?
She watched him writhe in the bed sheets, caught in some private turmoil.

Finally she couldn't stand it, disrobed and slipped in beside him, hoping to lend him her body's warmth; the animal comfort of another being. She reluctantly had to admit that despite his huge obesity she shuddered with pleasure as she slid next to his soft naked body. And just as the electricity of desire hit her; he cried out and clung to her as if he were drowning. Hurting her, threatening to pull her under, even in the safety of the wide soft bed.

"No! Shhh. you're safe now. Here.... feel me. Feel my arms, I've got you. Shhh. " she said. Slowly he quieted as she stroked his hair. The warmth of her body slowly permeating his consciousness. His iron grip lessened as he become comfortable, his soft soft belly relaxed, pooling between them and in his semi sleep began nuzzling her breasts.

"Who are you my sexy chef?" she thought, groaning at the amazing sensation of his chubby face between her soft breasts. "Landing unexpectedly on my shore. What am I going to do with you?"

He blinked at her dazedly.

"Sit up my friend, here drink this, it will help," she whispered. Pleased that his anguished shudderings had ceased, she held his head as he drank. Good, this will help. "That's right, another glass and you will feel better." Sweet cream, protein, pureed fruit; that should bring his blood sugar back. Yes two glasses and a third disappeared between his soft lips. He sighed sleepily and settled back against her pile of pillows.

Slipping out of bed she positioned another glass by the bed within reach. Watching him sleep deeply into sleep she saw his entire body relax. Succumbing to temptation she knelt next to his slumbering form, careful not to jostle the bed, and slowly pulled back the soft sheet covering him.

God he was big. Not much body hair which was nice. He appeared to be mostly belly with relatively slender hips and thighs...muscular legs and arms, probably an ex-jock years past. Decently good looking face, full head of hair. Smallish butt, rounded almost feminine breasts. But good lord, his belly...round and so big. Look how it pooled on the bed next to him, a huge, round curve of flesh from his breasts to a full, fecund curve disappearing Into a fold between it and a bulge of pubic fat. She looked close and watched his abdomen rise and fall as he breathed, his arm draped over it, his hand lightly resting in the fold between belly and thigh. His navel was visible, rather high up his belly and it was a vertical depression, almost vaginal. She ached to see how deep it was, her finger twitching, but she resisted.

Completely wound up first by his feverish embrace and now with the enticing glimpse of his succulent body, she needed to cool off, walk the beach. Checking again that he slept peacefully, she quietly left the house for the shore.

Strolling thoughtfully in the cool surf wash, her fingers find his name tag in her pocket. Blakesley. Asst. Chef. Astonished that he would wash up on her beach. Victim of what? Violence? Carelessness? Weather? Yet a cook.

Despite herself, she grew wet from the thought of him and food. Could she hire her own private chef to be with her in her new lifestyle? Would he like to work for her? With her?

Does she want to remain alone? Her tingling loins were answering that question. And just look at him, she thought, handsome even in his distress, and so beautifully fat. A large soft belly just begging to be appreciated. Good lord, if he could be with her, cook for her and him and.... and...

No, too good to be true. Take a deep breath, she told herself laughing gaily, focus on his recovery and then we will see.

..............

not sure where this is going yet...stay tuned