Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
~BHM, ~BBW, ~~WG, Romance, Mutual - A preholiday breakup leads to some interesting opportunities.
Part 1
Cat got your tongue?
I was poking at my usual breakfast a waffle, butter but no syrup, and a side of scrambled eggs with cheese. I set down the fork and took a swallow of cooling coffee.
Tania dumped me, I mumbled to my plate.
Right before the holidays? Harsh, Fred commiserated. He actually reached over and patted me on the head.
Dude. I jerked away.
Sorry.
I stirred the eggs. I started talking about spending Thanksgiving together, and she said ... she said ... that shed been meaning to talk to me about that. Then she said that I was, um, not exciting enough in bed but that other guys were.
Other guys?
It seems shes been stepping out.
The whole two years? Fred said. He whistled. Maybe its
Dont say its for the best. Just dont.
Kay. Sorry. Hey, he brightened. Tag along to my folks. Theres always ten or twelve people and plenty of food.
I started to refuse automatically, then paused. Fred and I had known each other since kindergarten. His parents were as much mine as his.
Um. Okay. I bit my lip. Thanks.
You gonna eat that? Fred forked up the whole waffle and started biting away around the edges. I rolled my eyes and finished my cold coffee.
Fred and I both lived a few hours away from the suburban area wed grown up in. Snow was falling lightly, just enough to be pretty, and we made it around 11:30 Thanksgiving morning.
A week since the breakup and Id hardly eaten anything. Looking at food made me faintly queasy. Why was I going to a Thanksgiving meal? Id probably barf on the turkey. I tugged at my khakis. In spite of the belt closely cinching my waist, they were getting baggy.
I endured the round of embraces, social questions, and introductions. Some of the people there I knew, some I didnt, including Freds sister Gina. Holy smoke, Gina was a grownup. She gave me a harmless wink when I tugged on her bob the way I used to tug her braids.
Fred reappeared and shoved a plate heaped with snacks into my hand. Also a beer.
As Gina kept the conversation going effortlessly, I ate and drank without thinking about it, suddenly hungry. Starving. Food would periodically reappear on the plate or another plate or something.
We found the den and sat down and kept talking. It had never been so easy to talk to anyone except Fred.
Dinner was announced about four. At some point the flow of snacks and beer had stopped. I wasnt very hungry, but was missing the queasy emptiness Id gotten used to. I wasnt hungry because Id been noshing for several hours. What the hell.
I found my place across from Gina, naturally, and my appetite perked up at the sights and smells. I ate enthusiastically, tasting flavors and appreciating textures for the first time in ... how long? Being with Tania had leached enjoyment from living without me realizing it. Now it was back and Id missed it.
Dishes got handed around periodically, someone asking for this or that to be passed and everyone helping themselves as the bowl went along the table.
It was only when we all slowly dribbled to a halt that it dawned on me how full I was. Stuffed. My stomach ached. It was a new sensation, not entirely unpleasant, although I could do without my belt slicing my full belly in half. I hauled myself up along with the others and drifted into the den. Before thinking about sitting down, I let my belt out a couple of notches and undid the hook on my trousers.
Ah. That was better. I carefully lowered myself into a bagged-out easy chair and put my feet up on a low stool. Then I rested my hands on my bloated and swollen midsection. It felt warm and taut, stretched tight as a drum. I belched.
Whoops. Pardon me.
Laughter and a couple of other belches followed from Fred, his dad, a couple of cousins or uncles or something. Gina, the familys only girl, perched on the arm of my chair, balancing herself with a hand on the opposite edge. She leaned in and gently patted my tender and protruding belly.
Ooh, full tummy.
Yeah, no sh no kidding, I said, and laid my hand over hers. She didnt take it away.
I let my heavy eyelids droop and half-drowsed all evening, a bear slipping into hibernation.
I spent the night and the next day helped put a dent in the leftovers. Fred and I headed back on Saturday.
I didnt say anything about Gina. Didnt want to. I felt something fragile, newborn, and didnt want to mess with it.
Gina e-mailed me a week or so later.
Ill be in your area on Friday. Lunch? Or dinner?
I e-mailed back. Yes.
That earned me:
Smarty. Meet me at the downtown Hyatt at 12:30, when Ill be getting out of the morning sessions.
Gina taught high school English and was taking her masters degree via summer school and several long weekends a year. Accordingly, I met her at the Hyatt, positioning myself in the hallway along which were the rooms for the morning sessions. I saw her come out and slipped behind her and put my hands over her eyes.
Adam!
She turned and gave me a warm kiss ... on the cheek.
We left the hotel and walked a block or so to an Italian buffet. I disgraced myself by ending up with five five! empty plates.
Then came a belch I couldnt stifle. Brrp. Ah. Scuse me.
Gina winked. Good appetite, she said placidly. I walked her back and then returned to my work. I was the founder and senior partner in an architectural firm, and if I took a long lunch, then I took a long lunch.
I met Gina at 4:30 and took her to the hotel bar for a drink. We went back to the Italian place, and as we headed to the buffet tables I silently vowed to limit myself to two plates.
Okay, four. The fifth plate had nothing but dessert on it, so it didnt count.
This time I had unquestionably overeaten. I felt myself waddling as I truckled Gina back to the hotel. My stomach bulged tightly under my turtleneck and I couldnt button my jacket. I had let my belt out two notches, refusing to go to three, and still my khakis were painfully snug. Gina slid her arm around my swollen waist and I cringed. I didnt want her to feel how much of a pig I had been.
She snuggled happily against my side and rubbed her hand up and down along my bloated midsection.
Full?
Brrp.
What if I came back next weekend? Say Friday evening to Sunday midday?
Gina lived a couple of hours away.
You want to? I sounded pathetically eager.
Let me cook for you.
Oh, boy.
Well.
Gina came, and we spent the entire weekend in the apartment. True, she spent some of it on her teaching stuff, but I think she spent most of the rest of it in the kitchen. (And, okay, the bedroom.) She fed me hugely, and I ate hugely.
That Monday morning I stepped onto the scale grimacing. The digital number flashed 202.
Crap, that was ten pounds since Thanksgiving. Okay, Id probably lost a couple after Tanias departure, but still.
My stomach growled. I made myself a plateful of scrambled eggs and toast.
When the doorbell rang the following Friday, I was in sweats and half-asleep on the sofa.
It wasnt Tania.
It was Gina.
It was Gina carrying two grocery bags.
The light bulb went on.
I let her in (duh).
By now it was December, so when Gina wasnt cooking, she was baking. The counter stacked up with tins full of homemade goodies, and I dutifully emptied them.
Gina slid her arms around me from behind one late December evening and her hands didnt meet.
Whoops.
Santa Claus, she said happily.
Santa my ... butt, I mumbled. Between her fingertips I pinched a good inch-plus. Gina, Im a pig. Getting fatter by the minute.
She leaned against my back and mumbled into my shirt. So what.
So what, what? I replied.
So what.
I stood for a minute, enjoying the feel of her against my back, and felt her spread her fingers and squish into my stomach. There was a lot more to squish, a good healthy spare tire and love handles.
You get handsomer by the minute, she said finally.
Gina. I turned around. I braced my hands on her shoulders.
What do you want for Christmas?
You, she said firmly. She poked her finger into the cavern of my belly button and twiddled.
Will this do? I fished into my pocket and pulled out a box.
The sparkle bounced off the kitchen light and counters and put rainbows on her face.
Thank you, Santa Claus. She dried her tears against my tummy.
Stocking Stuffer
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
Part 1
Cat got your tongue?
I was poking at my usual breakfast a waffle, butter but no syrup, and a side of scrambled eggs with cheese. I set down the fork and took a swallow of cooling coffee.
Tania dumped me, I mumbled to my plate.
Right before the holidays? Harsh, Fred commiserated. He actually reached over and patted me on the head.
Dude. I jerked away.
Sorry.
I stirred the eggs. I started talking about spending Thanksgiving together, and she said ... she said ... that shed been meaning to talk to me about that. Then she said that I was, um, not exciting enough in bed but that other guys were.
Other guys?
It seems shes been stepping out.
The whole two years? Fred said. He whistled. Maybe its
Dont say its for the best. Just dont.
Kay. Sorry. Hey, he brightened. Tag along to my folks. Theres always ten or twelve people and plenty of food.
I started to refuse automatically, then paused. Fred and I had known each other since kindergarten. His parents were as much mine as his.
Um. Okay. I bit my lip. Thanks.
You gonna eat that? Fred forked up the whole waffle and started biting away around the edges. I rolled my eyes and finished my cold coffee.
Fred and I both lived a few hours away from the suburban area wed grown up in. Snow was falling lightly, just enough to be pretty, and we made it around 11:30 Thanksgiving morning.
A week since the breakup and Id hardly eaten anything. Looking at food made me faintly queasy. Why was I going to a Thanksgiving meal? Id probably barf on the turkey. I tugged at my khakis. In spite of the belt closely cinching my waist, they were getting baggy.
I endured the round of embraces, social questions, and introductions. Some of the people there I knew, some I didnt, including Freds sister Gina. Holy smoke, Gina was a grownup. She gave me a harmless wink when I tugged on her bob the way I used to tug her braids.
Fred reappeared and shoved a plate heaped with snacks into my hand. Also a beer.
As Gina kept the conversation going effortlessly, I ate and drank without thinking about it, suddenly hungry. Starving. Food would periodically reappear on the plate or another plate or something.
We found the den and sat down and kept talking. It had never been so easy to talk to anyone except Fred.
Dinner was announced about four. At some point the flow of snacks and beer had stopped. I wasnt very hungry, but was missing the queasy emptiness Id gotten used to. I wasnt hungry because Id been noshing for several hours. What the hell.
I found my place across from Gina, naturally, and my appetite perked up at the sights and smells. I ate enthusiastically, tasting flavors and appreciating textures for the first time in ... how long? Being with Tania had leached enjoyment from living without me realizing it. Now it was back and Id missed it.
Dishes got handed around periodically, someone asking for this or that to be passed and everyone helping themselves as the bowl went along the table.
It was only when we all slowly dribbled to a halt that it dawned on me how full I was. Stuffed. My stomach ached. It was a new sensation, not entirely unpleasant, although I could do without my belt slicing my full belly in half. I hauled myself up along with the others and drifted into the den. Before thinking about sitting down, I let my belt out a couple of notches and undid the hook on my trousers.
Ah. That was better. I carefully lowered myself into a bagged-out easy chair and put my feet up on a low stool. Then I rested my hands on my bloated and swollen midsection. It felt warm and taut, stretched tight as a drum. I belched.
Whoops. Pardon me.
Laughter and a couple of other belches followed from Fred, his dad, a couple of cousins or uncles or something. Gina, the familys only girl, perched on the arm of my chair, balancing herself with a hand on the opposite edge. She leaned in and gently patted my tender and protruding belly.
Ooh, full tummy.
Yeah, no sh no kidding, I said, and laid my hand over hers. She didnt take it away.
I let my heavy eyelids droop and half-drowsed all evening, a bear slipping into hibernation.
I spent the night and the next day helped put a dent in the leftovers. Fred and I headed back on Saturday.
I didnt say anything about Gina. Didnt want to. I felt something fragile, newborn, and didnt want to mess with it.
Gina e-mailed me a week or so later.
Ill be in your area on Friday. Lunch? Or dinner?
I e-mailed back. Yes.
That earned me:
Smarty. Meet me at the downtown Hyatt at 12:30, when Ill be getting out of the morning sessions.Gina taught high school English and was taking her masters degree via summer school and several long weekends a year. Accordingly, I met her at the Hyatt, positioning myself in the hallway along which were the rooms for the morning sessions. I saw her come out and slipped behind her and put my hands over her eyes.
Adam!
She turned and gave me a warm kiss ... on the cheek.
We left the hotel and walked a block or so to an Italian buffet. I disgraced myself by ending up with five five! empty plates.
Then came a belch I couldnt stifle. Brrp. Ah. Scuse me.
Gina winked. Good appetite, she said placidly. I walked her back and then returned to my work. I was the founder and senior partner in an architectural firm, and if I took a long lunch, then I took a long lunch.
I met Gina at 4:30 and took her to the hotel bar for a drink. We went back to the Italian place, and as we headed to the buffet tables I silently vowed to limit myself to two plates.
Okay, four. The fifth plate had nothing but dessert on it, so it didnt count.
This time I had unquestionably overeaten. I felt myself waddling as I truckled Gina back to the hotel. My stomach bulged tightly under my turtleneck and I couldnt button my jacket. I had let my belt out two notches, refusing to go to three, and still my khakis were painfully snug. Gina slid her arm around my swollen waist and I cringed. I didnt want her to feel how much of a pig I had been.
She snuggled happily against my side and rubbed her hand up and down along my bloated midsection.
Full?
Brrp.
What if I came back next weekend? Say Friday evening to Sunday midday?
Gina lived a couple of hours away.
You want to? I sounded pathetically eager.
Let me cook for you.
Oh, boy.
Well.
Gina came, and we spent the entire weekend in the apartment. True, she spent some of it on her teaching stuff, but I think she spent most of the rest of it in the kitchen. (And, okay, the bedroom.) She fed me hugely, and I ate hugely.
That Monday morning I stepped onto the scale grimacing. The digital number flashed 202.
Crap, that was ten pounds since Thanksgiving. Okay, Id probably lost a couple after Tanias departure, but still.
My stomach growled. I made myself a plateful of scrambled eggs and toast.
When the doorbell rang the following Friday, I was in sweats and half-asleep on the sofa.
It wasnt Tania.
It was Gina.
It was Gina carrying two grocery bags.
The light bulb went on.
I let her in (duh).
By now it was December, so when Gina wasnt cooking, she was baking. The counter stacked up with tins full of homemade goodies, and I dutifully emptied them.
Gina slid her arms around me from behind one late December evening and her hands didnt meet.
Whoops.
Santa Claus, she said happily.
Santa my ... butt, I mumbled. Between her fingertips I pinched a good inch-plus. Gina, Im a pig. Getting fatter by the minute.
She leaned against my back and mumbled into my shirt. So what.
So what, what? I replied.
So what.
I stood for a minute, enjoying the feel of her against my back, and felt her spread her fingers and squish into my stomach. There was a lot more to squish, a good healthy spare tire and love handles.
You get handsomer by the minute, she said finally.
Gina. I turned around. I braced my hands on her shoulders.
What do you want for Christmas?
You, she said firmly. She poked her finger into the cavern of my belly button and twiddled.
Will this do? I fished into my pocket and pulled out a box.
The sparkle bounced off the kitchen light and counters and put rainbows on her face.
Thank you, Santa Claus. She dried her tears against my tummy.
