The Choices We Make

Chapter 1

I have always loved to eat—maybe a little too much. My appetite has always been voracious, and it shows on my body. I was a chubby little girl, a plump teenager, and a fat adult. No matter how much my family tried to get me to slow down or to curb my appetite, I would stuff my belly to the max at every opportunity I could. There was just no stopping me, I couldn't help myself.

“Nedra,” my grandmother would say to me when I was in my late teens, “you need to start losing weight and eating better. If you’re not careful, you will one day grow to be too fat to lose weight, and you’ll be stuck that way forever.”

“What’s wrong with being fat?” I would ask her, but she never had a good answer. All she could say is that it’s something that I shouldn’t be.

I was already fat though. Sure, maybe I could have tried to lose some weight early on, nip obesity in the bud. Maybe I could have tried to prevent my weight from completely spiraling out of control. Maybe I could have learned to adapt some better eating habits, exercising moderation, and adopting a regular routine of moderate physical activity.

I could have done those things, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I liked being fat, and since no one could give me a good reason why I should have been anything other than what I already was—I stayed fat.

Being complacent with my body didn’t mean I didn’t have insecurities. There were moments—usually when I caught sight of a certain look in someone’s eye, that mix of judgment and pity—that I would wonder if they were right. Perhaps I was wrong for being happy like this. Those moments, however, passed quickly. I’d tell myself that I deserved to feel good, to enjoy my life, to eat the things I loved without shame. If I didn’t fit into their box of what was acceptable, that was their problem, not mine.

For the most part, I had made peace with who I was. My weight didn’t stop me from living a full life. I had friends, a job I liked, and hobbies that kept me busy. What I didn’t have was a love life. Dating had always been tricky for me, partly because I didn’t want to settle for someone who saw me as just a fetish or a charity case. When I met Dane, however, everything changed.

Dane was tall, lean, and so effortlessly charming that he left me breathless. A mild-mannered software engineer, he had this adorably nerdy vibe about him that I was attracted to immediately. He had this way of looking at me, like I was the most fascinating person in the room. From the moment we started talking, he made me feel like I was something rare and precious. He didn’t just tolerate my size—he adored it.

“You’re incredible,” he said on our second date, his voice warm and sincere as he reached across the table to take my hand. “Don’t ever think you have to change for anyone.”

I’d heard lines like that before, but Dane was different. He didn’t just say the words; he made me believe them. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me—it all felt so real. When he asked me out for a third date, I was already falling for him.

It was on that third date that things started to shift. We went to this cozy little Italian place, and Dane encouraged me to order whatever I wanted. “Don’t hold back,” he said with a wink. “I love a girl with a good appetite.”

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I ordered my favorites—pasta with cream sauce, garlic bread, and tiramisu for dessert—and enjoyed every bite. Dane seemed to enjoy watching me eat as much as I enjoyed the food. By the end of the night, I was stuffed and blissfully happy.

Later, as we walked to his car, he slipped an arm around my waist and murmured, “You’re perfect just like this, Nedra. Don’t ever stop being you.”

I smiled, letting his words sink in. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely seen, completely adored. Somewhere in the back of my mind, however, a little voice whispered: What does he really want?

“You know, I have some strawberry cheesecake and some apple fritters back at my place,” Dane turned to me and said as we drove through the night. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he really inviting me back to his place—to eat more? “I don’t know,” I said with a gasp, my tongue jutting out over my lower lip, “I’m pretty stuffed from dinner. I don’t know if I could -hic!- eat another bite.” 

“Aww, come on,” he said as he reached over and rested his hand atop my rounded tummy. “I bet you’ve got plenty of room left in there.” Then he started to lightly drum his fingers on my belly’s surface, making a hollow sort of thud sound.

Truth be told, all I really wanted to do in that moment was to go home, slip out of this dress that was now way too tight on me, take a couple of Alka-Seltzers and go to bed. Just when I was about to say as much to Dane, a voice inside my head cried out: Dammit, Nedra! When was the last time a guy invited you up to his place, and how long will it be before you get another invitation like this?

“Sure,” I said, going against my better judgement. “Let’s do it.”

He brought me up to his place, and it was very cute. Definitely a “babe lair,” the kind of place that looks comfortable and disarming enough for a man to reasonably seduce a woman that he brings up there. We immediately went into the kitchen, and before I even knew what was happening, Dane was spoon-feeding me big wads of cheesecake. I couldn’t deny that it was incredibly delicious, maybe the best thing I had put in my mouth all evening. In a surprisingly short amount of time, the entire cake was soon inside of my stomach. I thought I would feel miserably full by this point—but I wasn’t.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was super stuffed, but something about Dane’s encouragement of my gluttony awakened some deep-seated greed laying dormant inside of me. Suddenly, all I could think about was eating. I wanted more, and I had to have it.

“You know,” Dane said as he put the cheesecake plate in the sink and reached for a pastry box on the counter, “I think that these apple fritters would taste even sweeter if we went to my bedroom.”

Again, I was at a loss for words. I wasn’t expecting for things to get this heated so quickly between Dane and I, but there was no use in denying that some powerful force was pulling us together. Dane pulled one of the fritters out of the box and held it out toward me with one hand while carrying the rest of the box with the other, and he began marching backward toward the room. The scent of the apple and sugar ladened dessert lured me forward, and I had no choice but to follow where he led me.

Once we got to his room, Dane set the box of fritters down on the nightstand, turned to face me, and smiled. “You’re incredible, Nedra,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth. “I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do.”

With that, he stuffed more than half of the fritter he still held in his hand over my lips and down my throat. The flavor was incredible as it slid over my waiting tongue. I felt a heat rush to my cheeks as the potency of his silver-tongued words mingled with the overwhelming fullness in my belly. His hands found their way to my waist, fingers pressing gently into the soft curve of my hips. My breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing mine.

The kiss started tender and exploratory, but it deepened quickly, his hands sliding to my back to pull me closer. My stomach, still distended from dinner and the cheesecake, pressed firmly against him, and to my surprise, he groaned softly against my lips.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his hands roaming, exploring every lush curve of my body as if committing it to memory. “I love how soft you are. I’ve always wanted to meet a woman just like you.”

Just like me? The words made my heart flutter and sent a chill down my spine. No one had ever made me feel this wanted, this desirable. I let myself get lost in the moment, leaning into his touch as his hands slid beneath the hem of my dress.

“Lie down,” he said, his voice a low, seductive whisper. “I want to feed you while you’re comfortable.”

I hesitated for only a moment before obeying, letting him guide me onto his bed. The mattress was soft, the sheets cool against my skin as I shifted to make myself comfortable. Dane retrieved another of the fritters from the box on the nightstand and he perched himself upon the edge of the bed, holding it out to me.

“Open up,” he said, his voice coaxing, almost hypnotic.

I parted my lips, and he tore off a generous piece of the fritter, guiding it to my mouth. Once again, the flavor exploded on my tongue—sweet and spicy, the perfect combination of apple and cinnamon. I closed my eyes, letting out a soft moan as I chewed.

“That’s it,” Dane said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Just keep eating for me, baby. It’s all for you.”All for me?? 

He continued to feed me, piece by piece, his free hand gently tracing the curve of my belly, which rose higher with each bite. I could feel the tension building between us, a magnetic pull that neither of us could resist.

As I swallowed the last bite of the fritter, Dane leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” he said, his hand caressing the swell of my stomach. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His words sent a shiver through me, igniting a fire I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling. Before I knew it, I was pulling him down to me, kissing him with a hunger that rivaled the one I’d felt for the cheesecake and fritters.

Our bodies fit together perfectly, every curve and angle finding its place as we gave in to the electric chemistry between us. Dane’s hands roamed my body with a fervent reverence, his touch igniting sparks everywhere he lingered.

As the night unfolded, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had finally found someone who truly saw me for who I was—someone who didn’t just accept my appetite but would celebrate it and even encourage it. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through me, mingling with the growing sense of desire that consumed us both.