Emily's Weight

Chapter 13

"After you finish that piece I might have a surprise for you."

I was nearing the end of my third piece and that was the motivation I needed to finish it off. I swallowed the last bite.

"I'm getting full." I tell him.

He smiles at me and leans in closer. His lips find mine and he lifts my legs on top of his thighs so I'm fully facing him. The kiss is passionate. The feeling of fullness in my stomach only intensified the experience. He holds me near as I kiss him back until we pull away.

"Well, surprises are always welcome," I state and he laughs.

He reaches for a slice. "May I?" He asks. I smile and open my mouth.

"Someone's very hungry today," he playfully smirks.

I'm then reminded about something I hadn't yet told him.

"I had breakfast before you invited me out this morning," I tell him before taking a bite.

The realisation that I've eaten more today than he thought hits him. "Really?"

I nod, feeling submissive. Tim offers me the slice again and I take another mouthful. I chew, swallow and lean forward for another bite. This cake was so good. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks as I swallow yet another large bite.

"Yes please," I answer, licking some frosting from my lips.

Tim gets up and goes to the kitchen. "There's juice, coke, or beer." He lists from his fridge.

I think for a moment. It's been a while since I'd had beer, and coke or juice sounded too sweet to be paired with the cake.

"I think I'll have beer." I say.

"I'll join you on that," he says, grabbing some bottles and making his way back to me.

He passes me an open bottle and I thank him.

Thirsty, I take a few gulps. Pressure immediately builds up in my gut. I need to burp but I hold it in. I could feel myself filling out the waistband of my jean shorts. Perhaps these were not a good choice of pants.

Tim resumes feeding me the slice and it's not too long before I finish it. Between bites, I nearly finish my beer. My stomach hasn't felt this full before. Completely bloated and stuffed, it felt achy in my tight shorts. On top of that, I was starting to feel tipsy.

"I don't think I can have anymore cake," I quietly tell Tim.

He leaves the plate with the last slice on the coffee table. "Come here," he gestures.

I lean my back into his chest, lifting my legs onto the couch. I let out a breath, finding comfort.

"That was impressive," he comments, his face close to my ear.

"I want more," I smile up at him.

"But aren't you full?" He teases.

"I think so. My shorts aren't comfortable," I admit.

"Here," he says softly, as his hands reach down to unbutton and unzip the taut denim fabric across my lower abdomen. I sigh at the sudden absence of pressure there. "Thank you, that feels better."

I lift up my shirt and look down at my belly. It was very bloated, sticking out a bit. Pockets of fat bludged a little from where the waistband meets my hips, even though my pants were now unzipped. It had been less than a week since I turned a blind eye to my diet, and maybe this was already beginning to show. The thought of putting on some pounds sort of turned me on. I took another couple gulps of beer.

"What's going on in your mind?" Tim asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I'm ready for my last piece," I simply tell him. It summed up my thoughts, at least. All I could think about right now was stuffing myself.