Chapter 1 - the spot 1

He knew just how this got started and just why it was still going on, but had no idea if he would or could stop. Those many nights ago he hitched his jeans as the stood up from Saturday night dinner and lamented having eaten too much. She came around behind him, encircled him with her arms and placed her hand right in the center of his slightly rounded stomach. "How does it feel here?" she had asked. Then she began to make slow gentle circles with her fingers. "You need," she said "to relax. It feels much better that way. As a matter of fact, you need to think of nothing but this place you feel under my hand and how good it feels. Let your stomach muscles go and concentrate on this spot and you will feel better."

He remembered closing his eyes and focusing his attention, more because it was she who was touching him and that was always good. Gradually he felt a tingling down his abdomen and into his groin. He remembered feeling less sharp, more drowsy and for some reason quite aroused. He turned towards her, said they had done enough of that and he could think of other things to do. As they headed to the bedroom, she suggested they try it again next time he felt full. He thought no more about it.

The next week Saturday night brought a special meal she had cooked. When he stopped, full, she suggested he eat just a bit more. She knew he could, she had said, and she wanted to try what they did last week again. Although he wasn't quite sure why, this had seemed like a good idea and surprisingly he had been able to eat more. Again she stood behind him gently massaging. This time it was much less difficult to focus on the spot beneath her hand. In fact he could sense easily the place where his overfull stomach met his abdominal wall as it pushed up and outwards and then both met her hand. With each slow circle he felt more aroused and soon enough, hard. As they felt their way through various postions in the bed, he was aware of his own stomach touching her, something he had never noticed, usually too busy focusing on parts of her body that delighted him. Interesting and definitely something I should pay more attention to, he had thought.

The next Saturday he quickly anticipated a repeat of the previous Saturday, and the next and the next. In several weeks, he knew just how he liked to do it, first the gradual letting go of the subconscious tightness of his abdominal walls and the resulting flow outwards, of the weight in his stomach, the lessening pressure on his stomach muscles with each bite, each deep breath, the increasing pressure on his waistband and then the feel of her hand, and the now nearly unbearable arousal as she made those slow circles.

In fact, he suggested it need not be saved for Saturday nights anymore, and his evening dinners got larger. He grew accustomed to fullness. After increasingly larger lunches at work, he would sit at his desk, work with one hand and absently rub the spot. Not the same as her touch, but close enough to hold him until dinner.