Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
~BHM, ~BBW, Romance, Stuffing - Love of eating brings a new couple together.
Thomas Hatch had long since ceased to be embarrassed at dining alone. Since Rose had broken up with him, hed gone out to eat at least once or twice a week, and he enjoyed the food so much that he never minded the sparse company.
In fact, it was because he enjoyed the food so much that Rose had dumped him. Of course, she would never say so directly, but she certainly dropped enough hints about how in the abstract, of course it was a shame when men let themselves go, and Thomas wasnt meant to overlook the meaning of the remarks Rose let slip about other diners when they ate out, the cold Oh, when Thomas ordered dessert. And the way she wasnt affectionate anymore. She stopped holding his hand, stiffened if he put his arm around her, and never spent the night, which meant the intimacy had long gone. It was almost a relief when she said they couldnt go on like that anymore.
But all that was over, and it was with some relief that Thomas addressed himself to the first plateful from the buffet. He tucked into roast chicken, meatloaf, black-eyed peas, corn, sweet potatoes, and a couple of yeast rolls with real enjoyment, realizing how liberating it was to actually eat without someone frowning over every bite you took. The food was delicious and he cleaned his plate in short order. Gulping some iced tea, he paused to wipe his mouth and take a deep breath before going up for seconds. Because of that, his timing was off and he almost bumped into a woman carrying a tray bearing only plates and a drink. Shed just come in and was looking around in dismay for an available table. Thomas eyed the room, too, and said, Would you like to share my table?
It was a rather forward offer, but the woman was clearly grateful and set her dishes down quickly. Thank you, she said. Thanks so much. Im Sarah Prewitt. They shook hands. Her handshake was firm, the hand cool and soft. Sarah Prewitt was only a few inches under Toms five eleven, and had light brown hair worn in a bob framing a heart-shaped face, hazel eyes, and apples of cheekbones. She had a cushiony hourglass figure contained in a faded blue dress. Tom was irrationally glad hed worn his favorite tie that day.
Over platefuls of supper, they got acquainted. Tom was interested to see that Sarah was not shy about praising the food, which was really good. Both made short work of their plates and Sarah rose without a trace of self-consciousness to get more. Tom hesitated. A year with the prickly Rose had made him a little hesitant about eating too much, but Sarah seemed to be waiting for him to stand, so he did, and followed her up.
I shouldnt, he admitted when they sat back down.
Why ever not? Sarah mumbled. She swallowed her meatloaf. Why ever not?
Tom waved a forkload of cabbage. Eat too much, he murmured, blushing a little. His gaze dropped to his belly, which had gone from flat to spare tire in the last six months. Hed put close to thirty pounds on his frame.
Sarahs eyes were wide. She was shaking her head, her shining hair flicking back and forth. Thats plain stupid. Food was meant to be enjoyed, and good food is a rare enough find. Arent you old enough to think for yourself? she added, with a twinkle in her eye and a warmth in her tone that took away any sting.
Fact, she said with a wink, I could probly eat more than you, anyway.
Toms head came back up. Yeah?
Sarah raised her chin. Loser reimburses?
You got it.
Challenge set, the meal continued, and the conversation did too, as they shared a love of English movies, grunge music (though no longer fashionable) and Father Brown mysteries. After all, there was no hurry.
Tom, smitten, quite forgot that he had downed a heaping plateful before Sarah had come on the scene; and if he had remembered, he would have gallantly declared a handicap. Hed cleared four platefuls, each topped with one or two of the buffets sweet, butter-drenched yeast rolls, before he realized he was getting good and full. His belly pushed tightly outward against his shirt, meeting painful resistance at his belt and waistband. He could feel a spare tire flop gently over said waistband, looking for somewhere to go. If only he could let his belt out a notch. He slowed each mouthful, pacing himself, hoping he would digest a little.
Sarah, too, was beginning to slow. She had no belt, but the dress itself was growing snug and she was sure she felt a tear along the side seam. She had heaped three plates high with meat and vegetables and had also enjoyed four of the rolls. Their iced tea glasses kept getting refilled, so neither realized how much tea they were swallowing, which was beginning to slosh around a good bit. She measured her mouthfuls and gently and discreetly pressed a hand to her side. She was taken aback by the taut distention she felt and the crease where her swelling midsection pushed out below her bra. The bet was all in fun, and she didnt really mind admitting defeat, but a part of her competitive nature was loath to give up.
Ready for dessert? Tom asked.
Startled into a loud hiccup, Sarah nodded. (Hic!) Oh ... sure, she said, slowly standing. Inadvertently she pressed a hand to her swollen and aching tummy. Tom saw the gesture and forbore pressing his own, though it was also gorged and tight.
Side by side they chose brownies, blueberry cobbler, pound cake, cheesecake, soft ice cream.
A mouth full of brownie, Tom had to stifle a monstrous combination of hiccup and belch. His eyes watered. Scuse me, he managed when he could swallow.
Sarah stifled a belch of her own, one that tasted of cheesecake. Slowly, she shook her head and set down her fork. Cant (urp) ... oh ... do it, she confessed. You win.
Tom finished the pound cake on his plate in three bites before looking up. Oh, you can too, he said warmly. Here, take (hic!) ... a break while I finish (hic!) ... Ill help.
Dutifully, Sarah sat and watched, smiling, as Tom slowly, pausing for breath, made his way through the rest of the desserts. Then she saw what he meant by helping. He loaded his fork and took a bite off her own plate before getting a forkful for her. In that way did they both clean their plates.
Oh, Sarah puffed. Oh ... Im so full ... (hic!) That was ... so good...
Tom was slowly pushing to his feet. He stifled a belch. Good, he agreed. Stuffed to the (urp) brim. Coffee next door?
Oh yes, Sarah agreed.
Before Tom sank into the arm chair at the coffee house, he let his belt out a notch, which hardly helped, but he felt better anyway.
Oh my, he managed. Been (urrp) ... a while ...
Since youve ... had such a good ... dinner, Sarah finished. Tom nodded.
And good ... company, he added. Sarah blushed.
My ex ... dumped me when ... I got fat, he admitted.
Fat! For goodness sake, Sarah scolded. She must be (hic!) one of those stick figures. I think youre very nice looking.
Now it was Toms turn to blush. Forget I said anything, he mumbled. He belched. Oh. Scuse me. He rested a hand on his belly, which was bloated and swollen well proud of his waistband. He wanted so badly to be out of his clothes. Abruptly he pushed himself up.
Sarah, he said, Forgive me if Im speaking (mrrp) out of turn, but ... would you ... care to come home with me?
Sarahs eyes were dancing. She stood too. Forgive me (oh hic!) if Im speaking out of turn ... but yes I would.
Back at his apartment, Tom insisted on disrobing the lovely Sarah. She wasnt shy, but clearly not too many guys had begun their intimacy thusly. She returned the favor, Tom groaning aloud as the restrictive belt and trousers and underwear slid to the floor. Ah, that feels good, he murmured. They stood in the lamplight, admiring each other. Tom had firm pecs and well-shaped biceps and a belly that, at the moment, ballooned roundly out like a well-inflated basketball. His gut was firm and golden in the lamplight, slightly damp with a groove where the waistband had pressed against his bloated stomach. Sarah silently traced the red line, gently easing the discomfort of it; then Tom took her in his strong hands and gazed at her, making her blush. She was all rose and curves, the slope of her breasts tipping to pert pink nipples, the undercurve resting gently on her now-bulging tummy, which swelled distended and peach-pink. A suggestion of a waistline, bloated out with the meal, gave her dents at belly button level, a navel that hid dark and teasingly tempting above the slope down to her velvet. He drew her close, cradling her cushioned bottom, and they murmured as they began to kiss and nibble ears, reveling in the sensation of full belly pushed gently against full belly.
Then. They slid between the sheets and were content to lie side by side, stroking their own and then each others swollen and distended abdomens in turn. As they caressed, they talked, and as they talked, they caressed. Later, when they were not so achingly stuffed, they made love, gently and languidly, and afterward, snuggled together and watched a DVD.
If Im not fat, Tom said at one point, what am I?
Sarah shushed him. Silly. Youre Tom. But then she added, I personally find you very handsome indeed, in an English accent so bad that they both laughed.
Sarah Sweet, Tom said, making a nickname.
Tom Terrific.
They fell asleep in each others arms as the sun rose.
When Tom Met Sarah
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
Thomas Hatch had long since ceased to be embarrassed at dining alone. Since Rose had broken up with him, hed gone out to eat at least once or twice a week, and he enjoyed the food so much that he never minded the sparse company.
In fact, it was because he enjoyed the food so much that Rose had dumped him. Of course, she would never say so directly, but she certainly dropped enough hints about how in the abstract, of course it was a shame when men let themselves go, and Thomas wasnt meant to overlook the meaning of the remarks Rose let slip about other diners when they ate out, the cold Oh, when Thomas ordered dessert. And the way she wasnt affectionate anymore. She stopped holding his hand, stiffened if he put his arm around her, and never spent the night, which meant the intimacy had long gone. It was almost a relief when she said they couldnt go on like that anymore.
But all that was over, and it was with some relief that Thomas addressed himself to the first plateful from the buffet. He tucked into roast chicken, meatloaf, black-eyed peas, corn, sweet potatoes, and a couple of yeast rolls with real enjoyment, realizing how liberating it was to actually eat without someone frowning over every bite you took. The food was delicious and he cleaned his plate in short order. Gulping some iced tea, he paused to wipe his mouth and take a deep breath before going up for seconds. Because of that, his timing was off and he almost bumped into a woman carrying a tray bearing only plates and a drink. Shed just come in and was looking around in dismay for an available table. Thomas eyed the room, too, and said, Would you like to share my table?
It was a rather forward offer, but the woman was clearly grateful and set her dishes down quickly. Thank you, she said. Thanks so much. Im Sarah Prewitt. They shook hands. Her handshake was firm, the hand cool and soft. Sarah Prewitt was only a few inches under Toms five eleven, and had light brown hair worn in a bob framing a heart-shaped face, hazel eyes, and apples of cheekbones. She had a cushiony hourglass figure contained in a faded blue dress. Tom was irrationally glad hed worn his favorite tie that day.
Over platefuls of supper, they got acquainted. Tom was interested to see that Sarah was not shy about praising the food, which was really good. Both made short work of their plates and Sarah rose without a trace of self-consciousness to get more. Tom hesitated. A year with the prickly Rose had made him a little hesitant about eating too much, but Sarah seemed to be waiting for him to stand, so he did, and followed her up.
I shouldnt, he admitted when they sat back down.
Why ever not? Sarah mumbled. She swallowed her meatloaf. Why ever not?
Tom waved a forkload of cabbage. Eat too much, he murmured, blushing a little. His gaze dropped to his belly, which had gone from flat to spare tire in the last six months. Hed put close to thirty pounds on his frame.
Sarahs eyes were wide. She was shaking her head, her shining hair flicking back and forth. Thats plain stupid. Food was meant to be enjoyed, and good food is a rare enough find. Arent you old enough to think for yourself? she added, with a twinkle in her eye and a warmth in her tone that took away any sting.
Fact, she said with a wink, I could probly eat more than you, anyway.
Toms head came back up. Yeah?
Sarah raised her chin. Loser reimburses?
You got it.
Challenge set, the meal continued, and the conversation did too, as they shared a love of English movies, grunge music (though no longer fashionable) and Father Brown mysteries. After all, there was no hurry.
Tom, smitten, quite forgot that he had downed a heaping plateful before Sarah had come on the scene; and if he had remembered, he would have gallantly declared a handicap. Hed cleared four platefuls, each topped with one or two of the buffets sweet, butter-drenched yeast rolls, before he realized he was getting good and full. His belly pushed tightly outward against his shirt, meeting painful resistance at his belt and waistband. He could feel a spare tire flop gently over said waistband, looking for somewhere to go. If only he could let his belt out a notch. He slowed each mouthful, pacing himself, hoping he would digest a little.
Sarah, too, was beginning to slow. She had no belt, but the dress itself was growing snug and she was sure she felt a tear along the side seam. She had heaped three plates high with meat and vegetables and had also enjoyed four of the rolls. Their iced tea glasses kept getting refilled, so neither realized how much tea they were swallowing, which was beginning to slosh around a good bit. She measured her mouthfuls and gently and discreetly pressed a hand to her side. She was taken aback by the taut distention she felt and the crease where her swelling midsection pushed out below her bra. The bet was all in fun, and she didnt really mind admitting defeat, but a part of her competitive nature was loath to give up.
Ready for dessert? Tom asked.
Startled into a loud hiccup, Sarah nodded. (Hic!) Oh ... sure, she said, slowly standing. Inadvertently she pressed a hand to her swollen and aching tummy. Tom saw the gesture and forbore pressing his own, though it was also gorged and tight.
Side by side they chose brownies, blueberry cobbler, pound cake, cheesecake, soft ice cream.
A mouth full of brownie, Tom had to stifle a monstrous combination of hiccup and belch. His eyes watered. Scuse me, he managed when he could swallow.
Sarah stifled a belch of her own, one that tasted of cheesecake. Slowly, she shook her head and set down her fork. Cant (urp) ... oh ... do it, she confessed. You win.
Tom finished the pound cake on his plate in three bites before looking up. Oh, you can too, he said warmly. Here, take (hic!) ... a break while I finish (hic!) ... Ill help.
Dutifully, Sarah sat and watched, smiling, as Tom slowly, pausing for breath, made his way through the rest of the desserts. Then she saw what he meant by helping. He loaded his fork and took a bite off her own plate before getting a forkful for her. In that way did they both clean their plates.
Oh, Sarah puffed. Oh ... Im so full ... (hic!) That was ... so good...
Tom was slowly pushing to his feet. He stifled a belch. Good, he agreed. Stuffed to the (urp) brim. Coffee next door?
Oh yes, Sarah agreed.
Before Tom sank into the arm chair at the coffee house, he let his belt out a notch, which hardly helped, but he felt better anyway.
Oh my, he managed. Been (urrp) ... a while ...
Since youve ... had such a good ... dinner, Sarah finished. Tom nodded.
And good ... company, he added. Sarah blushed.
My ex ... dumped me when ... I got fat, he admitted.
Fat! For goodness sake, Sarah scolded. She must be (hic!) one of those stick figures. I think youre very nice looking.
Now it was Toms turn to blush. Forget I said anything, he mumbled. He belched. Oh. Scuse me. He rested a hand on his belly, which was bloated and swollen well proud of his waistband. He wanted so badly to be out of his clothes. Abruptly he pushed himself up.
Sarah, he said, Forgive me if Im speaking (mrrp) out of turn, but ... would you ... care to come home with me?
Sarahs eyes were dancing. She stood too. Forgive me (oh hic!) if Im speaking out of turn ... but yes I would.
Back at his apartment, Tom insisted on disrobing the lovely Sarah. She wasnt shy, but clearly not too many guys had begun their intimacy thusly. She returned the favor, Tom groaning aloud as the restrictive belt and trousers and underwear slid to the floor. Ah, that feels good, he murmured. They stood in the lamplight, admiring each other. Tom had firm pecs and well-shaped biceps and a belly that, at the moment, ballooned roundly out like a well-inflated basketball. His gut was firm and golden in the lamplight, slightly damp with a groove where the waistband had pressed against his bloated stomach. Sarah silently traced the red line, gently easing the discomfort of it; then Tom took her in his strong hands and gazed at her, making her blush. She was all rose and curves, the slope of her breasts tipping to pert pink nipples, the undercurve resting gently on her now-bulging tummy, which swelled distended and peach-pink. A suggestion of a waistline, bloated out with the meal, gave her dents at belly button level, a navel that hid dark and teasingly tempting above the slope down to her velvet. He drew her close, cradling her cushioned bottom, and they murmured as they began to kiss and nibble ears, reveling in the sensation of full belly pushed gently against full belly.
Then. They slid between the sheets and were content to lie side by side, stroking their own and then each others swollen and distended abdomens in turn. As they caressed, they talked, and as they talked, they caressed. Later, when they were not so achingly stuffed, they made love, gently and languidly, and afterward, snuggled together and watched a DVD.
If Im not fat, Tom said at one point, what am I?
Sarah shushed him. Silly. Youre Tom. But then she added, I personally find you very handsome indeed, in an English accent so bad that they both laughed.
Sarah Sweet, Tom said, making a nickname.
Tom Terrific.
They fell asleep in each others arms as the sun rose.
