Coming to Terms
Tom jiggled into the donut shop, eyes lifeless and dejected while he ordered three dozen donuts for the second time this week. He only looked up when the counter-girl traced a finger along his belly with a giggle and handed him his food.
"Looks like you have a good appetite!" She patted his jelly rolls and giggled again. "Don't waste away!"
Tom nodded, too surprised to speak and waddled back to his apartment. He parked his 200 lb body on the couch and began stuffing his face. Now, for most guys 200 would barely be plump, but Tom had been very thin, and he wasn't tall, so the past 65 lbs he had gained had been pure, jiggling lard.
He blinked, realizing he had passed out after eating all three dozen donuts. He wanted to die. He was disgusting - couldn't even control himself, he thought as he heaved his body back to the bakery. That same counter-girl was there, helping herself to some donuts.
"Hi!" she said brightly. "It's closing time - there are all these sweets and sandwiches to eat - you want to help?"
Tom nodded dumbly and cleared his throat. "I'm Tom," his soft voice proclaimed as he took a sandwich and nibbled on it, feeling self-conscious. Why did she invite him to share the food?
"Debbie!" The girl laughed. "No, eat it like this!" She took a big bite out of her sandwich and smiled encouragingly. Tom mimicked her and soon finished the entire sandwich, and the next and the next. He realized Debbie was staring at him and suddenly he felt panicked and ashamed and bolted for the door with surprising speed for such a big man.
Debbie couldn't help watching Tom stuff his face - she could just picture his pants splitting, the looked that tight. She saw his eyes re-focus on her and groaned, looking like he hated himself, then ran out of the store. Debbie followed, calling for him, deeply concerned.
Tom had to stop after a block - he was too fat, and too out of shape to run. He heaved deep breaths, feeling ill. Suddenly he felt small hands grab his hand and pull him around. Debbie seemed to take his state in then wordlessly gathered him into her arms, his fat body quivering with heaving breaths and sobs.
"Shh…" She stroked his back and sides, kissing his forehead comfortingly. Slowly Tom calmed down and hiccuped periodically, refusing to remove his face from her shoulder.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered, sounding all alone.
"No, don't be," Debbie murmured. She guided him to a bench and sat with him, leaning against him easily.
"I hate myself…I should just die…I'm stupid and fat and ugly and I hate myself!" he gasped, trying not to cry.
"Why do you say that?" Debbie asked lovingly, hands running along his soft body.
Tom told her about his relationship with his last girlfriend. He had gotten comfortable and gained weight, and she had dumped him. So he had eaten more for comfort. Then, his boss fired him, and he was going to lose his apartment, and he couldn't stop eating. He felt disgusting.
Debbie listened carefully and finally interrupted him with a gentle kiss. "Shh, you're VERY handsome, and you've just had a streak of bad luck is all." She smiled into his eyes.
Tom turned away, feeling like he was being played with. He gasped in surprise to feel her hands rubbing his swollen belly, which he was trying to suck in. Slowly, against his will, that rubbing brought his belly out farther and farther until it stretched forward to its fullest extent. Her hands explored his belly while he sat stiff with wonder. This felt so good…
She laughed throatily and pinched his belly teasingly, poking her finger into its softness and wriggling it. This wasn't like the cruel pinching and poking his ex had done. This felt good…Tom looked at her, eyes so vulnerable.