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Old 11-23-2011, 08:51 PM   #3
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Part 3

So, Sarah made up her mind. This diet would start. No question. Definitely. Tomorrow. She would start right now, but she was way too upset about everything that had happened that night. The only prescription? Comfort food. She REALLY needed some comfort food. She was craving something sweet, something unhealthy, something that would absolutely RUIN any diet she was on. Besides, she had earned it. All that exercise on stage must have done something! She'd probably burned off enough calories to indulge just this once. With that rationalization, she stopped thinking about her gain, got in her car and drove off.

She wasn't sure exactly where to go, so she stopped at a gas station to buy some chocolate. Delicious, but not enough. More chocolate. Still not enough. She needed something more. She needed ice cream. She pulled down a side road making her way to her favorite ice cream shop, a small, locally-owned store that provided the very best in iced desserts of all kinds. It was a bit out of the way, but she so needed this.

There were so many options! She just wanted something sweet and sugary; she didn't want to have to pick and choose exactly what that sweet, sugary thing was! It took a few minutes, but she managed to narrow the choices down to three options: a piece of ice cream cake, a piece of cheesecake, or a fairly large sundae. Choices, choices. . .

She loved cake, she loved ice cream, but she only sort-of-liked ice cream cake. But she wanted it all so bad she could barely think straight. . .

Can't decide, get it all, she thought. Starting with the ice cream cake.

She ordered it and sat back waiting. It felt like hours. When it came, she was surprised at how small it was.

Good thing I've got two more courses coming up, she thought, as she finished off the cake and ordered the cheesecake. Extra chocolate, extra whipped cream. She was feeling a bit better already, but not enough. The cheesecake came out pretty quickly and she dug into it like a starving woman. Five minutes later, Sarah was feeling a little fuller and a little better. The sugar rush was just starting to kick in.

Well, she thought, the diet is screwed up for the night, I might as well go whole-hog and get that sundae, too. I still feel fat and disgusting. I need more sugar. And that sundae looks absolutely AMAZING. . .

The sundae took longer than anything else she had ordered, and when it came out, it was obvious why. This sundae was a big one. Mounds of different flavors of ice cream, giant chunks of fudge, little cookies, filled a huge bowl, and it was completely drenched in chocolate syrup, then covered in whipped cream. It was the kind of sundae meant to be shared by two or more people, but here she was, going into it on a full stomach. All for her. This was going to be a tough one, but she was paying for the sundae. And Sarah ALWAYS got her moneys-worth. She was going to eat the whole thing, every last chocolate chip, if it killed her.

The first ten minutes went smoothly. She was filling up, but had no problems eating more. Then a bit more. And more. Then she hit a wall. She was nearly done, but not quite there yet. Her stomach was packed tight,and it was starting to hurt, but she was the one paying for it and it wouldn't make the drive home. It was weird. Her stomach hurt, but it felt so good! As much as it was hurting her to eat, the ice cream was SO sweet and SO delicious, she just couldn't bring herself to stop. It hurt, but it was worth it to her. Finally she got down to the bottom of the bowl. She tipped it up and slurped out the last bit of melted ice cream. Sarah ALWAYS got her moneys-worth.

Now that she'd finished, it was time to go home. She took a few minutes to recover from what she'd just done. She felt so good. Pain, but a good kind of pain, a satisfied kind of pain. She knew she would regret this later, but right now, she had one hell of a sugar high, and who CARED about tomorrow? This stop was all about making her feel good right NOW, not later. This was going to make her feel horrible later when she had to deal with the consequences. Oof. She was seeing the first of those already. . . She rubbed her stomach, trying to ease the pressure, but to no avail. She had eaten too much.

When she walked back to her car, she saw her profile reflected in a window. She looked about seven months pregnant with food and her shirt was starting to ride up a bit. She pulled it down but it immediately started to work it's way back up. She put her hands against the small of her back to try and relieve some of the pressure. Her bulging stomach was sloshing around as she walked, making it hard to keep her balance. Why had she parked so far away?

Last edited by Britt Reid; 11-23-2011 at 10:20 PM.
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