Post 256: First Date, p2

MANIFEST: I am totally gorgeous. I mean stunning, drop-dead perfect. My face is as pretty as anything on a magazine cover. I have high, sophisticated cheekbones, a flawless complexion, large clear, bright eyes, a perfect nose - not too cute, not too strong. My lips are full, red and beautifully shaped, covering dazzlingly white, arrow straight, immaculately regular teeth that shine when I smile. My hair is warm, soft waves of comfort that he’d like to swim in. He thinks I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, and can’t get me out of his head.

“You two are such a cute couple,” the waitress said, admiring again just how low in his seat the guy sat as she poured him more Pinot Grigio. She’d noticed them as soon as they walked in, and was secretly thrilled that they were sitting in her section. She saw how the girl, a statuesque, raven-haired beauty, towered over him (and truth be told over everyone else) as the new hostess led them to their table. God he’s so vulni! the waitress thought, Shorter even than me! Were they married? Dating? She didn’t see a ring on either one of their fingers, but he was for sure a bunch older than his magnificent companion. Older, smaller, weaker. Nnngh, perfect. “You make a nice pair,” she finished, filling up the young woman’s glass as well.

“Omigod thank you! It’s our first date!” Melissa Monroe, Office Manager of what was at the time Far Horizons Medical Assiciates, lauded, “The food is delicious!”

“It is, right? I love the cioppino,” the waitress replied. She paused, sliding the bottle back into the ice bucket, and stood. “He hasn’t eaten much?” she asked with new concern, reflexively addressing Melissa instead of the small man sitting across the table from her, “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, it’s f-fine, I’m just not super hungry,” Dr. J replied. It was true, and fact of the matter was that he hadn’t been hungry much at all these past few weeks. And, this being a seafood place, the thought of fish had turned his stomach. He’d been able to smile and choke down some of the appetizer, a few pieces of fried calamari which to him tasted like rubber bands, but in general he had so far mostly just watched her eat. And now his entree, this small steak he’d ordered, wasn’t very appealing either. Cooked to his liking but it might as well have been an old shoe.

“Okay well let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said, stopping herself just in time from adding “cutie”. That would have been awkward! “I’ll be around.”

“Thanks,” he replied, and contemplated returning to his unappetizing steak again. He looked across the table at his, uh, date, as the waitress drifted away into the nicely-crowded dining room. At least the scenery is nice, he considered. Melissa, a six-foot-plus stunner, was absolutely beaming tonight, casually gorgeous in a white, off-the-shoulder top which exposed her tanned, perfect shoulders (along with two tantalizing bra straps) and accentuated her voluptuous torso. Her thick dark hair was like - and the thought had just popped into his head as soon as he’d seen her earlier, when she picked him up in her car - warm, soft waves of comfort in which he’d like to swim. She must be the most beautiful girl in the world, he imagined, and had secretly marveled at her all through their pleasant walk from the car to the restaurant, and she’s here with me. He was eager to review the photos she’d ask him to take, posing along the piers, wanting to document their first real date. No matter if he couldn’t tolerate the food, he was content just to stare at her. But I should really try to eat, he decided, and sawed at his sirloin passively. But boy, this meat is tough.

Watching him struggle, Melissa giggled. “If you can’t cut that yourself, bring it over here,” she said, suddenly reaching across their small table for his plate, “I’ll do it for you.”

His mouth dropped open, considering a protest, but he stayed quiet. She’d already pulled his meal to her, taken his steak knife from his hand, and had proceeded blithely to begin cutting his steak into manageable little chunks. He admired how easily she did it, and how her chest - just visible through her top - wobbled with her efforts. Despite the ignominy he did his best to stay relaxed, enjoy the moment. Their date, from the first moment, had been fun and casual, friendly. He was proud of himself for not acting too-much the simp. As the wine had started to kick in, though, the atmosphere had become more certainly more flirty, the brilliance of her smile had amped up considerably…and here she was cutting his steak, maybe an overly-intimate step but nnnngh she looked good doing it.

"I hope you don't need me to CHEW your food for you too!" she teased, suddenly popping one morsel of meat into her mouth and beginning to masticate. Immediately her eyes widened, meeting his. “Oh, wow, this is delicious..!” she exclaimed, around the bite of steak, still chewing as he watched. She loved how attentive to her every move he was. “Here, wan’ it?” she asked, opening her mouth and showing him the semi-gnawed piece of steak, glistening with her saliva between her perfect, arrow-straight teeth.

His mouth dropped, now fully open as well.

Delighted by his shocked expression, Melissa snorted, and swallowed the food. “Haha I’m sorry!” she laughed, returning to cutting his meal for him, slicing up some broccoli, “I just couldn’t resist…”

Recovering from her audacious little display, he sat back, reached for more wine. Were other people looking at them? He watched her hands work, knife and fork.

“I think I’m still a little jealous, actually,” Melissa began again, still attentive to her task, “last week, at the party, watching the girls feed you your pasta…” She cut his steak some more. “I felt like I should be doing that myself…”

His eyes watched as she speared a small chunk of steak and offered it, across the table, to him.

Reflexively, his jaw clamped shut.

“C’mon!” Melissa laughed, eyes sparkling in amusement as she leaned in and pushed the morsel closer, almost to his lips, “you have to eat something!”

He was, suddenly, aware of - yes - sets of eyes on him, three girls at a table to his right, giggling and watching with keen interest. They turned back as soon as his eyes shot to them, but continued to laugh among themselves, still casting him gazes askance. This was not how I wanted this evening to go, he told himself, even as he opened his mouth to accept the food - which she happily fed right to him. This piece, for some reason, didn’t taste as bad as the others, he realized as he began to chew. He basked in her approving gaze as he chewed, and swallowed as he thought in secret shame to himself: maybe this is how I wanted this evening to go…

The meal went on - she’d begrudgingly returned his plate and utensils to him haha - with her happily chatting though still eyeing his intake, refilling his water, asking the waitress for another napkin for him (“You can’t drop that on the floor and still use it you silly goose!”). She was enjoying plainly doting on him, and as the wine flowed the conversation loosened further, became even more adroitly flirty. Unlike in the past, with the specter of his cold marriage hanging over him making him feel iniquitous, this evening he felt more able to relax, enjoy himself around her. Maybe even have a little fun. He’d teased her about how she’d insisted on ordering his dessert.

“Haha am I being too much of a mommy-girlfriend already?” she laughed, as the waitress left to fetch their twin chocolate something-or-others.

“Too much of a wh-what?” he blurted, sputtering into his water glass.

“A mommy-girlfriend,” Melissa began, “C’mon, you knowww…” Her eyes twinkled, as she searched his eyes, maybe see if she’d struck a chord. Though he seemed suddenly nervous, evasive, his eyes were nonetheless hard to read, so she pressed on in explanation. “Oh, yeah, the new thing these days,” she continued, “Girls all want to be mommys now haha. And guys seem more than happy to like it too…”

The prion was making sure of that, but that’s for another day.

“M-meaning, like..?”

“Oh, y’know…taking care, ‘come rest your head in my lap’, being super nice and affectionate and, like…maternal,” she clarified, though she felt for sure his mind was already filling in the blanks, “it goes along with the whole ‘vulni’ thing. Girls want to be the strong, protective, comforting partner now. It’s totally the fashion and definitely…empowering. Kinda get what I mean?”

“Y-yeah, sort of…” he feigned, looking deep at the gravid droplets forming on his water glass, hoping she couldn’t see through him, where he roiled in embarrassment. Oh, I know what you mean, he said to himself, reliving all those times, alone with his phone, pictures of Melissa and imagining her voice in his head: ‘good boy…gooooood boyyyy…’

With new interest she watched how red his face was getting, and tried to keep from giggling. Omigod this boy was going to be so fun to fool around with. She couldn’t wait to kiss him!

“Y-you’re a little young, still,” he offered, trying to steer clear of dangerous waters but…“Aren’t you? To be a mom?” Ughugh what was he saying?

“Well, I dunno…I’m definitely getting a mom-bod,” Melissa replied, “with all this eating.”

“w-what do you mean?”

“haha like you haven’t noticed!” she answered, “All these new bulges!” Smiling and narrowing her eyes, she watched his face for signs that he actually thought he was being smooth, “c’mon…”

“R-really? Like, you’re putting on weight?”

“‘putting on weight’?!?” she snorted girlishly, “hahahah! I’ve gained, like, fifty pounds since I got this job, and it’s more every day…”

“Oh, I’m, uh..sorry…” he apologized, suddenly feeling clumsy, talking to a girl about her weight, her…bulges. What about her made him this way? He was the older, more mature one here, but she made him feel like an awkward teenager. Was he really that smitten?

And, wait: fifty pounds?!?

She saw his adorable distress - awww the poor thing’s embarrassed! - and though she smiled warmly across the table to him to put him at ease - “it’s okay,” she said - she let her eyes glint in mischief. “But they’re going to all the right places, right? These new pounds? Giving me mom-hips, mom-thighs…”

His eyes glanced quickly at her chest, and her heart fluttered. It made her want to grab him by the hand, pull him to the ladies room, lock the door…

Be patient, Missy!

“A-and dinners like this don’t help!” she laughed, finding herself starting to talk, to talk more quickly, her emotions heating. “Eating eating eating, I’m always eating, since I started, since I’ve known you,” she continued, “so you take responsibility for all these extra pounds haha! They’re all yours…” At that, she found herself subtly pushing her big left breast forwards, towards him. It looked huge, she knew - nothing subtle about it haha - and she saw his eyes drop to it again. Both of them went quiet, and she felt her mouth going dry. The girls to her left were surreptitiously watching them again, and she loved it. She wanted to show them how it was.

”oh-ohkay…” he managed, somehow pulling words from his throat, still staring, “guilty as charged…”

Omigod he can’t look away, she realized, feeling a familiar warmth between her thighs and those visions go through her head again. His head, my hand, pulling him in. So much bigger… “You s-see?” she said, feeling her breast strain against her overmatched bra, a JJ-cup that now felt too small, “m-mom bod…”

Her perfume was a gentle cloud between them.

“y-you've got nothing to worry about,” he stammered, “being fat…”

“What, are you into chubby girls?” she giggled, pulling her shoulder back even more, accentuating herself, tilting her chin up to watch him appreciate her size.

“n-no, y-you’re n-not chu-“ He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how he could just see, through her taut, stretchy white top, how her left breast swelled against the confines of her bra, bulging slightly out of it. She was so beautiful, so goddamn beautiful. His voice, he realized, had failed him.

“Haha it’s okay,” she said, her growing excitement changing into something new, something that allowed her to control her voice, rise to take charge, “Guys say they don’t like fat girls. But they’re attracted to the fattest parts of our bodies. Boobs, hips, thighs. Boys love fat, admit it…”

He tore his eyes away, looking to the table beside them, the three girls.

“Yeah I think you like the fat…you want me to just keep eating, probably,” she continued, as she straightened her back, pushed her right breast out now to join her left as her voice dropped, “and I want you to keep looking…” They were watching, still, the girls next to them. She was proud, how little and awkward she must be making him look. It was exciting. “It’s okay…”

His eyes returned to her, to her cat-with-the-canary face. Her chin still up, her long throat was elegant, corded. Her collarbone, perfect, her chest…

“You were saying..?” she continued, pressing on, her big boobs now dominating the space between them, having drawn his gaze again, holding his eyes with their gravity.

”no, I, uh…” Had he been saying something? He knew he had to-

“...About me being fat..?”

She giggled. Omigod this boy is so fun to play with! she thought, and glanced over at the girls to her left with a conspiratorial smile.

“Y-you’re not fat,” he finally muddled out, “y-you're…you’re…you’re b-beautiful. You’re gorgeous.”

She hadn’t expected that!

“Omigod..!” she giggled, nearly a squeal. Butterflies, birdsong and rainbows. She had felt her soul leap into jubilance. Haha holy shit what this guy does to me!! She knew she had to be careful not to gush, not to let her emotions - any of them, and there were a lot! - get to be too much, make her do things too soon too quickly too nnnngghghghhh…

Get it together Missy!

Melissa, caught up in the moment, hugged herself, squeezing her big boobs together into a suddenly luscious display of her upper body’s outstanding swells above the neckline of her top. They - I swear to god - bulged up nearly to her throat, huge and wanton and pillowy flesh that drew even more eyes from around the room.“You mean that? So, you like me at this size? This big?” she crowed, acting incredulous.

His eyes goggled, amazed at her bosomy bounty, and he nearly gasped. As he turned his eyes away in modesty, he heard her giggling - obviously amused at the effect she could have on him. Jesus she knows she’s playing me like a toy piano, he thought to himself, but realized - having already thrown all caution to the wind - I don’t…really…mind…at all. He figured he could just go for broke, now unencumbered by marriage. Yes, he was her boss. Yes, it was inappropriate. But Jesus Christ those tits…

He looked back at her; her arms still swole her massiveness in their embrace. The girls next door watched. “Melissa…” he said, braver than ever, “I’d like you at any size.”

Omigod omigod omigod, she marveled, this man!!

He’s too much!!

“Really? Any size?” she asked mischievously, gathering herself, ”Even if I got…” At that she pouted, allowing her bosom, her soft swell of cleavage to fall a fraction. “…smaller?”

<blink blink> He was obviously confused.

”Or…bigger?” she asked, squeezing her boobs together anew, even more, threatening to bulge them out of her bra, from her top, “Fatter???”

”oh my god Melissa…” he stammered, still flabbergasted by her body, “y-y-you’re so not fat…”

”Mmhmmm…” she purred, amused but doing her best to sound unconvinced. She twisted at the waist, joggling her shoulders a fraction for him.

“Oh christ y-you’re perfect…” he gasped.

oh jesus, she shuddered, crossing her thighs again to keep herself seated, maybe from bucking up against the table. “Keep talking…” She could hear her own arousal in the newly husky timbre of her voice.

“you've got a grea-... a good, healthy body, for a, uh...” he tried, but…but…

He was struggling, she could see. ”..for a growing girl?” she helped, slowly letting her bosoms fall, let his brain come back to earth.

”g-growing?” he didn’t know what else to say.

Haha we haven’t even mentioned my height, the seven-plus inches. Let’s see what he thinks…“Oh, sweetie, yes,” she said, reaching for her wine glass and draining the last of it, ”but, c’mon, you’re a doctor. Is it normal for a twen-…for a girl my age to be getting bigger like…” At that she sat up taller, straighter, looking down at him with a new curl to her smile. “...like this?” Jesus she loved feeling big! She loved feeling…strong. And sitting across from him, from this small, shrunken man, with every muscle in her body swelling with strength, every curve growing more and more ample by the day, every bone lengthening seemingly as they spoke, she felt huge. And, even better, she felt every day huger than him. “Just look at me…”

Look at her? He could do nothing but. “Are you…uh….are you…” he stammered, “...still getting taller?”

Bingo.

”yyyyyyeah…I am…” she replied, doing her best to keep the groan from her voice, sitting up taller still. Even sitting she dwarfed him. “Look what my hormones are doing to me. Seven inches from when we met…three inches since our trip…”

”are y-you…getting checked?” he asked, feeling himself shrink away from her as she loomed larger from across the table. Strength radiated from her, from her perfect torso. He could feel her legs, now, under the table, stretch out to touch his. “Are you s-seeing a doctor?”

Haha u have no idea clinics, instruments, tests tests tests. ”I am.”

”Who are you seeing?”

Ooo..uh… ”some…specialists.” She knew that sounded evasive.

”An en-endocrinologist?”

”…yeah?”

”Here? In town?” he asked, quizzical, “Who?”

”I’m not…” How was she going to get out of this one haha? “...really supposed to say…”

Normally, his antennae would be up. Normally, this would worry him…anyone, for that matter. But…for some reason it didn’t seem like a big deal. He, in fact, found himself smiling, going along with what he took as a little joke. “Why?” he asked, “Are you in some weird secret study?”

”Sorta yeah haha…”

“Well…hook me up, m-maybe get me an appointment?” he joked, “I obviously need some help too. I can’t just keep buying smaller clothes.”

Omigod they would love that, to get you into their clinic, she imagined, as she pictured how he’d look on one of their exam tables, at Evolution, strapped down, at their, at our…nngh…mercy…

“I’m, like, wasting away…” he continued, somehow now able to make light of the fact that he had, yes, lost so many pounds and so many inches. How could he joke about this but: “I won’t reach up to your hip if this keeps up.”

NNNNGHOHMYGOD her eyes flashed open and-

Just then, the waitress returned, carrying two huge plates of luscious-looking chocolate: cake, fudge? Something gooey, somethin-

”C-can we get that wrapped up…?” Melissa asked, an atypical urgency to her voice, struggling to manage her FEELINGS.

Huh, he thought. “Suddenly not hungry anymore?” he asked her.

”...a-and the check?” she continued, as if with a deaf ear.

“Wait are we leav-?” The waitress had already stepped aside, to a nearby service area where she was preparing their bill, getting boxes.

“You want to get out of here too, don’t you?” she asked, as her eyes suddenly met his - taking him aback with a new intensity to her gaze. It held…holy shit…promise, possibilities. She looked hungrier than ever, biting her lower lip, eyes dancing over his face.

He, suddenly, was just as eager to get out of the restaurant…and somewhere more private. Eagerness, with a touch of fear. His heart jumped, his pulse quickened. There was something, a new dangerous energy buzzing around her, and it thrilled him to think about being…in its clutches. ”Y-yeah…” he stuttered.

The waitress was back, already, with two foam take-away boxes and the check. Both of them resched for it at the same time.

"Please, I insist..." he said, with chivalry.

"No, it’s my treat," she said, her hand atop his on the black, faux-leather, bill-presenter thingy.

"But, you're my date," he said.

"No, you're MY date…” Melissa declared. Her voice was adamant, and she once again felt the eyes of the girls at the next table - as well as the waitress - on them. This was important, she could feel, spoke more than just a few dollars about how relationships like theirs were going to be. Not just for them, but for women going forward. She knew she needed to express her position in these sorts of ways. She was the alpha…

His eyes met hers, and she fuckfuckfuck had a gush of wetness as she thought she saw that, goddamnit, he was thinking the same thing. But still his hand remained on the check.

Think you can say no to these? she said, silently, both to herself and to him as she sat back, sliding her hand off his and the bill, and squeezed her breasts together between her elbows,  inflating her chest with a deep, filling breath, her big tits swelling once again up towards her throat. .

It worked. His eyes had dropped and she nearly laughed at his awed gaze. Like a moth to the flame…

"I surrender!" he finally said, and held his hands up, attempting a laugh as her smile curled. She obviously loved the power her breasts had over him, and she was going to show him just how powerful they were as soon as they got to the car!

He reached back down, picked up the check and - still a bit hesitantly - handed it to her. Melissa made a show of grabbing it from him, opening it up with a snap, and casting him a surprising, smoldering look that made him weak in the knees. She had won, and they both knew it. The girls, the waitress had seen the whole thing, and it made him feel small.

“Get used to it…” she said, eyeing the bill total and turning to open her purse. She was going to pay for this with her own money, not the company card.

“You p-paying for our dates?” he asked, with a deliciously acquiescent attempt at humor in his voice. He watched her slide her card into the sleeve.

“Surrendering…” she replied, flashing him a beautiful smile….

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oooo can you feel it? I can feel it. Things are heating up. Your humble author, though, is going to ask for your patience. This scene is more text intensive, lots of prose, and there may be a bit more time than usual between posts. In the meantime, though, GITJ Book Five is almost ready for publication.  Cheers and thanks all for your support :)