Chapter 7 - part 2 cont

The next morning I woke to an empty bed, the sun shining in through the windows to let me know I definitely slept in. After a couple minutes of stretching and basking in the thoughts of last night's amorous activities, I finally got up and got dressed.

Down in the kitchen there was quite a surprise waiting for me. Covered by an apron, Laura was bouncing around the kitchen and humming. The incredible smell washed over me and I was salivating before I could stop.

"Oh goodie, you're up!" she chirped. "I was just about to come up and get your lazy bones out of bed."

"Whoa, what is this?" I asked.

"Just thought I'd make you a welcome home breakfast," she winked. "While you were gone, I decided I really wanted to learn how to cook and bake. I still have a lot to learn, but I really like it."

"Wow, this is . . . this is amazing," I said in wonderment. "Blueberry pancakes, quiche, sausage, fruit salad. Babe, you are incredible."

"Well sit down and tuck in," she urged, giving me a peck on the cheek.

I complied, a little overwhelmed by all that was going on. Before I knew it I had a plate piled high with food and Laura was pouring me a glass of orange juice. It all looked and smelled so good that I couldn't stop myself from digging right in.

"Oh my," I moaned with my mouth full. "This is soooo delicious."

Laura giggled happily.

I ate like I had starved myself for the past three weeks. Laura didn't hesitate to reload my plate when it emptied and I didn't even slow down until my stomach started sending me very clear signals that I had overeaten yet again.

"Oof," I groaned weakly, pushing my plate away. "No more, please. I'm about to pop."

"Good girl," Laura applauded, leaning over and patting my swollen belly.

"Hope this was a one time deal," I puffed. "I'm definitely not going to be able to lose these extra pounds if you keep making meals like that."

"About that," Laura began, sitting down next to me. "I know I blurted a bunch of stupid stuff last night and kind of freaked you out. But the truth is, well . . . I really do like you a little, um, squishier. When we were together last you night you felt so nice and soft and warm, I just wanted to grab and squeeze every bit of you."

"Huh?"

"I know, maybe it's kind of weird. Part of it might be because you've always intimidated me so much. I like the idea that I can, I dunno, make a nice meal for you and see you like powerless to stop eating until you're so full that you can't move."

"Huh?" I repeated, feeling completely lost.

"Listen, if you want to lose weight, that's fine by me. If you want me to stop cooking and baking, just tell me. But I just want to let you know that if a couple of those pounds stick around, I'm definitely not going to complain, okay?"

"Laura, babe, help me out here," I pled. "What really is going on here? This stuff you're talking about . . . I've never heard any of this from you before."

Laura looked off to the side for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"Even before I realized that I liked women, I used to get a real funny feeling whenever I saw a woman who was . . . plump."

Laura blushed as she admitted this. I didn't interrupt, it was obvious that it was not easy for her to make herself vulnerable in this way. I knew she was talking about something that was hard for her to verbalize, and I wanted to respect her.

"So," she continued. "I've always had, um, fantasies, of other women like eating too much and getting a little . . . fat. When you told me what you were going to do and joked about how you might come back with a few extra pounds, well, that kind of triggered something in me I've been trying to hold back for a while. The whole time you were gone I went a little crazy, spending all my time learning to cook and bake better. And then last night . . . seeing you on the porch with your pants unbuttoned and your belly poking out, looking so, um, yummy . . . I kind of lost it a bit. And now I'm just . . . I'm just . . . I'm sorry baby, I don't mean to be such a freak."

She wiped tears from her eyes. I was still trying to wrap my head around this revelation, but at the end of the day it didn't matter if Laura liked fat chicks or skinny chicks or tall chicks or short chicks. I loved her more than I thought I could ever love another person.

"Come here," I told her, standing up.

She came to me and I held her close, whispering to her that I loved her more she could imagine and this didn't change a single thing. I told her that I looked forward to every day we shared together in the future, whether I was skinny or a "huge blimped-up heifer".

Laura giggled at that and I knew we would be okay.

"I mean it," I told her one more time. "It might take me a little bit to process it, but everything is okay."

"Thank you," she sniffed. "I never told anyone that, and it means so much that you can accept me like I am."

"Always," I promised, kissing her.

For the rest of the day I thought about this unexpected revelation. I also spent some time looking at myself in the mirror and trying to figure out which voice in my head was telling me that I needed to lose weight and whether that voice had ever said anything good to me.

That evening Laura made enchiladas for dinner and they rivaled anything I had eaten on the trip. Once again I was unable to stop eating until my stomach was aching and I was sporting a food baby that would put many pregnant women to shame.

"Oh gosh, I can't keep eating like this," I groaned again.

"Can't you?" Laura teased with a grin.

"I'm going to get so fat if you keep making me eat like this."

She walked over to me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Just tell me to stop."

I looked up at her, unable to hide my arousal.

"Take me to bed."

She practically dragged me there. After helping me disrobe, she spent some time gently rubbing my overfull stomach before her hands began to explore other areas. I have to admit that I was really enjoying the change, I was normally the one to initiate or lead. There was something very luxurious about having someone enthusiastically enjoy my body.

Over the next couple weeks this pattern held. I was powerless at the dinner table and she was insatiable in the bedroom. Her teasing grew more vocal as well, whether I had eaten myself into such a stupor that I couldn't stand or a certain pair of jeans could no longer slide over my expanding ass.

I also made sure to constantly reassure Laura, both vocally and with very obvious body language, that I accepted her completely.

In the back of my mind I still thought this would eventually play itself out and be nothing more than a funny memory to look back on. On the other hand, Laura was saying stuff like she'd have me wearing maternity pants by Thanksgiving.

After being back from the trip for about three months, I finally gave in and bought some new clothes. My weight was up about 25 pounds from my norm and I realized how silly I looked trying to fit in my old clothes.

One Sunday afternoon in early October we were out grocery shopping. We playfully bickered over what to make for supper for that week. I said we should stick with salads and maybe fish one night, while of course Laura wanted more meat and pasta dishes.

"I just won't eat them," I told her, knowing full well it was an obvious lie.

"Oh please," she laughed. "You'll eat until you pop a button off your pants and then you'll ask for dessert. Speaking of, I think we're low on ice cream."

"You're a devil woman," I groaned. "My ass is getting huge."

Laura grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but we were interrupted by another voice.