It's Just You and Me

Chapter 1

I didn’t know what to expect when I showed up at Owen’s house for Thanksgiving. Part of me expected a big family gathering with lots of uncles, cousins and aunties. Perhaps it might have been a “friendsgiving” sort of gathering, a small group of close acquaintances.

“Giulia! So glad you’re here!” The smile strapped across Owen’s face when he opened the door was nothing short of enchanting. He had always been a gorgeous man, the kind of man a woman might do anything for. The fact that we were dating now, and he had invited me over for Thanksgiving—it felt like nothing short of a dream come true.

He invited me in, and the fabric of my dress brushed up against the door frame as I entered his posh apartment. At this stage of my life, even the widest doorways felt small compared to my large and growing body, my curves and rolls bursting out every which way, my rounded tummy pushing out in front of me and grazing the surface of nearly everything that I passed by.

“So good to see you,” Owen sang as he took my coat and hung it up in the closet near the entrance. “You look gorgeous, my dear. The dress is stunning on you.”
“Thank you,” I giggled nervously. “I was lucky to be able to squeeze myself into it.”

Looking down at my belly, the way that it hid my feet and the floor below me, I couldn’t help but marvel at the way that I had gained and grown in such a short time. Since I’d started dating Owen in early September of that year, I had put on more than twenty pounds. With Owen’s praise and encouragement, I had been eating constantly, growing steadily, and loving every delicious moment of it.

Of course, I’d always been heavy, and I’ve always loved to be well fed. Owen wasn’t the one to start me down this path of gluttonous and fattening behaviors. To be certain though, he was doing nothing to dissuade me from continuing to be fat or to get fatter.

He really seemed to enjoy watching me eat, reveling in each added pound. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t always wished to meet a man like him, a man who not only accepted me and my excess weight, but who actually loved and appreciated it. The fact that he happened to be rich and gorgeous was just an added bonus for me.

“Please, have a seat in the living room,” Owen said as he gestured toward a plush white sofa in his sunken living room, looking out at a large window with an incredible view of the city. “I’ll bring you a glass of wine. Is chardonnay okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He disappeared into the kitchen for just a moment, then returned quickly with a large goblet in hand, filled to the brim with wine. Is he trying to get me drunk tonight? I thought to myself as he handed me the glass. I carefully sipped at the rim, taking care not to splash any of the wine onto my dress.

“So, am I the first one here?” I inquired, looking around the apartment, taking note of how tranquil and quiet it was. “When do the rest of the guests arrive?”

“Oh, there will be no other guests,” he said as he took a seat on the sofa beside me, cautiously handing his own glass. “It’s just you and me today.”

My eyes grew wide with surprise as I took in what he was saying. I had thought for sure that we wouldn’t be alone. Not that I minded being alone with this handsome man, but in my mind, I had always thought of Thanksgiving as a holiday to spend with family and friends. I wasn’t expecting a romantic rendezvous between the two of us.

“That’s okay with you, isn’t it?” he said as he reached over and stroked the hair away from the sides of my face. He looked at me with those gorgeous eyes of his with a look that he knew I could not resist. He could have gotten me to go along with absolutely anything he wanted with that look, and I think he knew it all too well.

“Of course,” I said. “It’ll be nice to have a nice quiet day, just the two of us.”

“Good,” he replied with a big smile. “Dinner should be ready any minute now.”

The aromas coming from the kitchen were nothing short of divine. Roasted turkey, mashed potato, pumpkin pie—the scents were all mingling together, wafting their way toward me and making my stomach growl with anticipation.

Just then, a short, matronly looking woman stepped out of the kitchen. “Mister Hewit, dinner is ready and everything is set up in the dining room for you and your guest.”

“Thank you, Martha,” Owen said cordially.

“If there’s nothing else,” the woman said, “I’m going to go home to my family now.”

“Of course,” Owen said, “thank you so much for coming in today, Martha.”

Without another word, the woman bowed her head and made her way out the front door. Owen looked up at me. He was practically glowing, his smile wide and bright, his eyes gleaming with a warm sort of mischievous look. I got the sense that he was up to something, though I had no idea exactly what was in store for me.

“Come, let’s dine,” he said as he rose to his feet, his glass in one hand as he extended his other hand out toward me. “The dining room is this way.”

I took his hand and allowed him to pull up my heavy body. My big belly jiggled beneath the fabric of my dress as I rose slowly. “Lead the way,” I said with a smile, as he held on to my hand.

We walked toward a set of large French doors with two large panes of frosted glass. “You ready for this?” Owen said before opening the doors. I nodded my head, my mind reeling at the thought of what might be on the other side of those doors.

Then, as if by magic, the doors parted open, and there on the other side was a massive table set with the biggest, most decadent and fattening Thanksgiving meal I’d ever seen. There were not one but two very large turkeys, along with a ham, a pot roast and a huge platter of steaming-hot sausages. There were huge bowls filled with mashed potatoes, stuffing, barbecued green beans, and platters covered with big fluffy dinner rolls.

Then in a far corner of the room, I could see the dessert table. There were pies, cakes and pastries as far as the eye could see. It looked like an endless feast set for a party of two hundred, not for a man and his fat girlfriend.

Yet, here we were—two people and a mountain of food.

“My God,” I gasped. “What is all this?”


“It’s all for you, baby,” Owen said as he wrapped an arm around my waist, squeezing my belly fat in his warm hand. He kissed me on my neck as he went on whispering softly in my ear. “I just want to feed you, baby. I want to be the one who feeds you and takes care of you, to make sure that your belly is always full and that you stay fat and happy for the rest of your days.”

“Oh, Owen,” I said, my heart melting in my chest as my eyes grew misty. “You’re so sweet.”

“I love you, Giulia,” he said, pulling my chin back toward him, gazing longingly into my eyes before kissing me tenderly on my lips.

“I love you too, Owen,” I gasped. “You are my every wish and dream come true.”

“Are you ready?” he said then, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “Are you ready to step forward into our destiny?”

“I’m ready, baby. I am so ready!”