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Old 07-06-2015, 08:24 AM   #1
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Default The Gardener by Ellebee (~BHM, ~FFA, Romance, ~~WG)

The Gardener
by Ellebee


Food had always been her passion. Good food, not the crap they can make for you in under five minutes at a fast food joint, but the kind of food people settle down with napkins on their laps and actually enjoy. She could talk about her love for kale and eggs endlessly and never once think that maybe no one else really cared what a great combination they made. Carys liked to feed people. Food brought people together. All of her favorite family memories included sipping coffee with her aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings, as they dove into Grandma’s made-from-scratch coffee cake.

“This is where our staff stays,” Carys’ attention jerked back into place. The older lady, Martha? Maria?, Carys couldn’t remember, showed her to a warmly-lit hallway with a low ceiling and wooden doors lining the walls. “Someone will bring your bags around, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’re more concerned about seeing the kitchen,” the lady winked and Carys forced a smile. She fought off the sudden feelings of cabin fever. This place was her home for the next year and already she was itching at her skin to get out.

Fresh out of college she had made the worst mistake of her young life, to settle down with a man who, quite honestly had not been worth her time. Carys had been foolish. By the time she realized her mistake he had already convinced her to move halfway across the country and play housewife, despite the fact he couldn’t grow a pair and ask her to marry him. And on a dreary day, mid-spring, Carys found the strength to rediscover her soul. Under all that garbage she had put herself through was a young woman who wasn’t ready to settle on a half-assed attempt at love.

Carys did the one thing she had always excelled at - besides making a mean omelette - she ran. Her tired feet had taken her to some God-forsaken region of Northern California. Carys, a self proclaimed nutritionist and expert gardener, found set out on the task of finding her ideal job.

“We are a self-sustaining unit,” Carys thought that was a nice way of saying commune, but she chose to hold her tongue. Martha/Maria led her through archways of gnarled wood, and hallways made of windows on both sides. The place was an architectural beauty. “We are an organic farm, a bakery, coffee shop, we have artists workshops-”

But Carys had stopped listening. They had reached the kitchen, and although it was humble, and beautiful, and earthy, it was not what had caught Carys’ attention.

Taking a few steps closer, Carys felt drawn to the openness of the land beyond the kitchen. The French back doors, fashioned into large, clear windows, were propped open and the farm rolled out before her. That’s where the object of her attention stood, unaware of his audience, heaving a wheelbarrow full of dirt.

“Jack,” her tour guide nodded, turning her gaze as well to the tanned, curly-haired man. “He’s our resident agriculture specialist. He likes food, not much of a cook though, shockingly,” She chuckled. “Let’s just say, we’re happy you’re here.”

Not much of a cook. That was something Carys could hardly believe. The guy looked like he spent a lot of time in the kitchen. It was clear that he enjoyed eating, maybe a little too much, based on Martha/Maria’s comment. Carys watched, silent and dry-mouthed as Jack’s midsection wobbled ever so slightly as he pushed the wheelbarrow out in front of his heavy stomach. He couldn’t be much older than she was, Carys got the feeling that they were the young blood of this establishment, but he had to be close to two-seventy, maybe even two-eighty. Carys had gotten good at eye-balling weight since she called it quits with Evan.

Her ex had been a rugby player, a solid guy, the kind of thick just about any girl would go for. Carys had doted on his sturdy legs and tree trunk of a waist, but she had always wished for just a little bit more. For years she had told herself that if she married someone like Evan, wide and muscled, that someday, even if it took years, they would grow into a more well-rounded form and she’d get the pleasure of having a fat, happy man to wrap her arms around. But Carys had never really wanted to wait years for something she had always longed for.

“He’ll give you a hand in the kitchen though,” Martha/Maria continued, placing herself between the kitchen doors and Carys, perfectly blocking her view just as Jack paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Damn it, Martha, Carys thought. “Just have to make sure he doesn’t eat all the food before it makes it to the table,” the woman laughed. As much as she wanted to find the jab distasteful, she couldn’t ignore the warm feeling that curled around her belly as she thought about his thick hands sneaking food out from under her nose as they cooked together.

Stop it, Carys. She thought, following Martha - it was Martha? Wasn’t it? - out of the kitchen and back towards the dining hall. Carys, against her best judgement, turned back one last time. Jack stood there, one hand resting on the curve of his wide hips, the other rubbing sweat off the back of his neck. He pulled the saturated shirt away from the dome of his belly and glanced up in her direction. Carys felt her stomach drop and Jack’s face soured and his hands immediately found the handles of his wheelbarrow, turning the other way.
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:26 AM   #2
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Chapter Two

He had not been expecting someone so young. Or someone so pretty, that was worth mentioning. Other people his age had come and gone, most of them the overly granola type, which was funny coming from him, the organic farmer. Half the girls refused to wash their hair or wear deodorant, something Jack could respect, but definitely couldn’t say he particularly enjoyed. Basic cleanliness was actually important to him, go figure. But the new girl, she was something else.

Jack stripped from his dirt-covered work clothes and threw them to the corner of his room that had been designated as the dirty clothes “hamper.” So maybe cleanliness wasn’t exactly his forte, but at least he showered. His room could have used a woman’s touch, or just a little less laziness on Jack’s part. There wasn’t much to look at, he didn’t hang on to a lot of material possessions, but somehow it was always cluttered.

The young gardener had lived at the farm for three years now, starting from when he graduated University as a young, bright-eyed, slightly thinner version of himself. That was another story all together, one that Jack typically avoided. The only person who really made comments about his size was Martha, and she didn’t have a filter to begin with, so he let it go.

Jack looked down at his bare stomach, spilling out over his chest, and hanging heavily bellow his hips. It had been easy to ignore his weight gain at first. When his shirts started stretching against his growing gut he knew something was off. Instead he came up with excuses. Jack could pretend that the way his work pants didn’t want to button up all the way was due to the fact that Carharts were made from unforgiving fabric or that things were shrinking in the wash.

He hadn’t exactly been a thin guy to start with. If Jack was being honest with himself, he didn’t mind being bigger, he had dealt with it his entire life. Although it was a little ironic, as someone who worked for a group of people obsessed with being green, clean, and healthy. It wasn’t that he ate horribly, he just ate a lot, and who could really blame him? For a guy his size Jack was in more than decent shape.

His stomach growled, demanding attention. Jack patted it gently, “Never ending pit,” he mumbled, heading out the door towards the bath house. The water from the shower came out in what could only be described as a trickle, to conserve water, and Jack secretly hated it. It didn’t exactly make him excited to take a shower. After three years that was the one thing he still wasn’t used to. His stomach let out another growl as he lumbered through the hallway in just his boxers and a towel in hand, headed towards the shower. Forty minutes till dinner, Jack frowned, that was an awfully long time to wait.
________

“You don’t have to worry about dinner tonight, we’ve got it covered. Breakfast tomorrow, though,” Martha smiled. “That’s on you, baby.”

Carys allowed herself to smile back. “I’ve got it.” Breakfast was her favorite meal of the day.

“Good girl,” Martha replied. “Dinner’s at six. If you need anything, I’m at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks,” Carys nodded. “See you at six.”

And Martha was gone, leaving the door wide open and Carys alone for the first time all day. This was how she liked it, the silence was soothing. She could think clearly without people breathing down her neck. Martha had done a good job of respecting Carys’ space and not overloading her with information she didn’t need, but Carys was still thankful to be alone. She let out a sigh, thinking that maybe she had made a huge mistake coming here.

But then, of course, there was Jack. Carys blushed at the fact that she had shamelessly ogled at him when he walked past her room, half naked and carrying a towel. Carys knew better than to stay somewhere just because she was attracted to a guy. But that belly, and those love handles, Carys couldn’t stop there, she had gotten a fairly good look at his thighs as he strolled past. Forget ex-rugby player boyfriend, he had never had thighs that delicious. Her face turned hot as she thought about it. How was she supposed to make it through dinner knowing he was hiding thighs like that under the table?
________

Carys could feel the warm atmosphere of the dining hall before she even reached the door. Happiness bubbled up inside of her. This was the reason she had come. Community around a dinner table, simple joy. Martha patted to a seat beside her as Carys entered the room. She took her seat carefully, trying her best to take in everything all at once. Carys’ eyes scanned the dinner table in search of one particular face.

He was sitting diagonally across from her. Carys hadn’t seen his face up close until now, she hadn’t noticed his deep brown eyes, the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, his eyebrows perfectly framing his face, the way his jawline curved, even with the chub that surrounded it. A big guy with a great looking face. Carys felt her nerves kick in.

A sudden eruption of laughter exploded from Jack’s end of the table and Carys froze. She watched, totally fixated, as he leaned back in his chair, hands rested on top of his belly and laughed. In that moment Carys knew she was done for. There was no going back. Each laugh jiggled his belly more and, even though Carys told herself not to go there, the mental images started to weave through her mind. What she wouldn’t do to make him laugh laying in bed together, but have her hands on top of that beautiful belly, rather than his. Just the idea of her hands touching bare skin made her insides warm.

“I want you all to meet our newest team member,” Martha spoke up, dismissing the dying laughter. “This is Carys, she comes to us from -” Martha paused.

“Oregon,” Carys reminded her.

“She comes to us all the way from Oregon. Carys is going to be taking over as our nutritionist and cook. Let’s make her feel at home.”

Everyone rattled off their names and jobs so quickly Carys could hardly keep up. She’d forget half of them within the hour anyway. Jack, on the other hand, barely looked up from his food to mumble a brief introduction that left Carys wanting more. Nearly everyone was an estimated ten years older than her, except for a handful of college age interns who were greedily bragging about their past adventures climbing mountains in foreign countries.

She spent the whole dinner half-heartedly eating her soup and salad, knowing she could have made it better, and watching Jack grab roll after roll to scoop the remainder of his soup from the bottom of the bowl. His chubby hands greedily grabbing as much as he could, until, with a large sigh, he leaned back in his hair. Carys watched with admiration and a strange sense of pride, she liked a man who could eat, as he placed his hands behind his head, causing his shirt to ride up around his belly. That thin line of flesh exposed between his pants and his shrinking shirt. Carys clenched her hands under the table.

“Dishes,” Martha boomed. Everyone reacted accordingly, stacking their plates and bowls neatly in the center of the table and shuffling away. “Jack,” she said, catching the young man’s attention. He scrambled to sit up again, pulling his shirt back down, a little pink in the cheeks. “Why don’t you show Carys how it works.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, adjusting himself as he stood up and made eye contact with Carys. “This way,” he motioned, and Carys followed him into the kitchen carrying a stack of plates. The last time she had been this nervous around a guy was high school. And now look at her, she could feel her heart beating right out of her chest.
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:28 AM   #3
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Chapter Three

The dining room table cleared out within a minute. Dishes must have been the magic word. No one wanted to be stuck after dinner dealing with the mess their comrades had created. No one, except perhaps Carys. To her it felt as if the night had come straight out of a fantasy. The two of them alone in a dark kitchen, surrounded by food, scrubbing away at dishes until Jack’s already too small tee-shirt was drenched, clinging desperately to his large frame. She would watch with wide eyes as he peeled it off and things would escalate heavily from there. Working with Jack would be the end of her.

Carys set down the stack of plates next to the sink and turned to stare at her new companion. Jack seemed oblivious to the direction her eyes took as he squeezed past her in the small kitchen space. To watch him maneuver around the place, always conscious of his size, careful not to knock into anything or bump it with his girth, made all the butterflies in Carys’ stomach kick up at once. She watched, motionless, as he actually attempted to suck it in to avoid their bodies touching.

“So what’s the dirt on this place?” Carys asked as Jack joined her at the sink. He immediately took his place scrubbing the soaking dishes while Carys waited with a dish rag to dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said, hardly lifting his eyes to meet her gaze.

“You know, the dirt,” Carys replied, taking a wet dish in hand and going to town. The last thing she wanted Jack thinking was that she couldn’t work hard. “Who to talk to? Who to avoid? Who has the best secret stash of booze hidden under their bed?”

Jack shook his head. For a minute Carys doubted her dream boy would even come close to meeting her standards. The man couldn’t hold a conversation, much less make eye contact with her. But then, and Carys couldn’t help but smile with relief, he turned to her and smirked casually.

“Martha,” he said, a hint of a smile still lighting up the corners of his eyes. “Martha could run a bar from her closet if she wanted.”

“Martha?” Carys exclaimed, gladly taking another plate from Jack’s thick hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He shook his head ‘no.’ The two stood in silence for a few moments, working fluidly like a well oiled machine. Jack washed, Carys dried. Much to her disappointment his shirt remained dry, but the young man was so preoccupied he never once noticed her staring at his gut as it pressed up against the kitchen counter. Carys liked the way it molded so well to the surroundings.

She always wondered what it was like to be fat, to fill out clothes so well, to demand space and attention everywhere you went. It seemed to Carys that it was a rather regal thing to be. As a child she saw nothing wrong with it. Society, years later, would tell her that the way she thought was completely crazy. Thankfully, however, the fat admiring child inside had won out and Carys was experiencing for the first time just how liberating that was.

“So what’s your story?” She asked, after the silence had run its course.

Jack shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you get here?”

“I came here after graduating university with an agriculture degree,” Jack continued washing. “It was a good fit. I planned to intern for a summer, but they offered me the job.”

Hard working, intelligent, and a clear love for food. She had been expecting a bunch of smelly, hippie men when she came here, not a guy who actually sparked her interest.

“You’re not the kind of person I would have imagined working here,” Carys said, lowering her eyes to the dishes.

“Why?” Jack pressed. “Is it because I’m fat?”

Carys froze. The “f” word. The magic “f” word. For as long as she could remember hearing someone call themselves fat made her stagger. There was something about a shapely guy admitting to himself that he was larger than the average that made Carys want to put her hands on either side of him and dive right in.

“No,” she said quickly, as quickly as she could to cover the awkward way her eyes had fixated upon his stomach. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. There’s nothing wrong with being fat-” This was going down the wrong road. "It doesn't mean you aren't healthy. I just-" Carys was getting flustered, she could feel it. “I mean, I was expecting smelly men who don’t shower and forget to-”

“I was kidding,” Jack said, laughing at her panic. His smile returned, this time very real and very genuine. Carys softened a bit, seeing him act so easy around her, joking about his weight so freely. “Calm down,” he shook his head. “I knew what you meant.”

Carys exhaled relief. “A job right out of school, you must be good at what you do.”

“I like to think so,” Jack replied, meeting her stare a bit easier now. “Food isn’t really something I shy away from,” he laughed, patting the side of his stomach with a wet hand. “It just makes sense to grow it.”

It only took a few sentences and already Carys knew she wanted more of this man. The way he spoke so casually, the comfortableness within his voice, his nonchalant way of describing his love for food, for growing food, it all just clicked with her.

“I think we’re going to be friends, Jack,” Carys smiled, drying another plate as she did so. “I really think so.”

----------

“So the new girl, eh?” Rick leaned in the door way, staring at Jack sprawled out on the bed. He must have looked like a beach whale, but he was too tired to care. “What’s she like?”

“Way out of your league,” Jack sighed, propping himself up on one elbow and making no effort to hide the way his stomach spilled over his waistband and rested on top of his thighs.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Jack responded. Rick was the one resident worker who you could always catch chasing after the newbies. He hardly had any preference and tried to play it off as a product of “free love.” Jack knew he should have completely skipped the part of the conversation woth Carys about Martha and her undercover bar, and simply told her to avoid Rick at all costs until he switched his focus to some college-aged girl who couldn’t stop talking about herself. Jack tolerated people like Rick for the sake of the job and not much else.

“Says the fat lard who works in dirt and manure all day.”

Jack couldn’t do much other than shrug. “Stay away from her, Rick,” he warned. Rick only grinned and left, leaving the door wide open behind him.

His whole body ached as he rolled out of bed to go close the door. Jack glanced down the hallway. Most of the bedroom lights were already out. All was quiet, nearly everyone already in bed getting a head start on sleep before the new day began, Carys included. She was different and, personality-wise, not what Jack had expected.

He had been in the friend zone countless times before and Jack knew this would undoubtably land him in the same area. Guys like him didn’t often get a chance with girls like Carys, and Jack had accepted that as his fate. Occasionally there would come along a lady who didn’t mind a little bit extra on her man, but Jack felt like the majority just tolerated it. With Carys, the best he could do was watch out for her, though she probably didn’t need any of his help. Even still, he felt himself thinking about the new girl, her long brown hair and hazel eyes, as he drifted off to sleep, allowing himself to think - just for a moment - what it would be like to hold her.
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:32 AM   #4
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Chapter Four

The first week was the hardest. Carys found herself bumping into people, messing up lunches, and sitting alone in the common room while everyone else seemed to be busy with their jobs. By the second week she figured out that Martha wasn’t as much of a hard ass as she had seemed and that a few of the college aged kids weren’t so horrible. But even as she found herself in the third week of her new job, Carys remained confused by Jack. Some days he seemed interested in talking and others it was as if she never existed.

Today was one of the not existing sort of days. Carys had tried to make conversation over breakfast with no luck, the only person who seemed remotely interested in talking to her was Rick, and Carys had her doubts about his intentions from the start.

Jack had come in for a cup of coffee mid morning, which was when she tried to make small talk over the way he took his coffee (with light cream and sugar, Carys noted), but still no change in the attitude. After lunch she found herself mindlessly washing dishes, wondering if it was something she said, and gazing out the window like some lovesick teenage girl.

What made things worse was her view from the kitchen window. She had a prime view of the farm spreading out ahead of her and her co-workers drenched in sweat under the Californian sun. In the mix of the bare backs and clingy tee-shirts there was only one subject that could catch Carys’ attention.

She swallowed her embarrassment, knowing she wouldn’t be caught staring. There was no need to feel so ashamed of what she found enticing. Jack lifted the bottom hem of his tee-shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. Carys couldn’t keep herself from memorizing the way his stomach extended over the band of his pants, how it flared out at his hips, wide and soft. Stretch marks highlighted his sides and faded out closer to the middle. All Carys wanted was to kneel down, hands on either side of his round belly, and plant kisses all over the parts of him the world deemed “not good enough.” They were more than good enough for her. They were perfect.

And just like that the moment was over and Jack was wandering off deeper into the farm where Carys couldn’t make out his face, only the sheer size of his body leaned over rows of vegetables. She had her place to work and he had his, for now there was nothing that could be done about it.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to open up?” A voice from behind her startled Carys out of the beginnings of a very pleasant daydream. She turned to face the intruder with unkind eyes. “I mean you’ve been here three weeks and I still don’t know the first thing about you,” Rick said, leaning against the same kitchen counter Jack’s tummy had been pressed up against the first night Carys had arrived.

“I’m selective,” Carys replied. She’d already had one too many run-ins with Rick and his forced flirtation. His “type” was far from welcomed in her life.

“I can see that,” he replied, nodding ever so slightly towards the farm. Oh hell, Carys felt her cheeks turn pink, had he seen her staring? “What do you know about tubby?” Carys winced at the word. It was fine for her to refer to Jack as “tubby” in her own mind, that was endearing, but the way that Rick said it lacked any sort of kindness.

“I-I don’t know,” Carys frowned. “I’m sure you know plenty.”

“I know he’s got a girlfriend,” and suddenly Carys couldn’t breathe right. “What about you? Do you have someone on the side? A guy? A girl, maybe?”

“Can you please not be here right now?” Carys felt her words catching in her throat, the way she stuttered and struggled through sentences when she didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey, relax!” Rick actually looked shocked, as if rejection was unheard of. “I’m just trying to get to know you, sweetheart.”

“I’m really, really busy right now,” Carys lied.

Rick took one look at her empty countertop and acknowledged her pathetic excuse. “I see that. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

-----------

Carys had Jack’s midmorning coffee ready by the time he walked in for his 10:30 break. Girlfriend or not, there was no reason to not be kind. He actually smiled when she passed him the cup, light cream and sugar.

“You remembered,” Jack seemed shocked as he took a sip from the mug. Instead of leaving the kitchen for one of the common rooms, he sat down on one of the stools and waited for her response.

“I did,” Carys remarked, trying not to be so obvious with her affections. She wasn’t the type of girl who went around stealing boyfriends, although she had been guilty of it once or twice in the past.

“I heard you and Rick had a bit of a run in the other day.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” she frowned.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jack said. “He gets under everyone’s skin.”

“He’s disgusting, and rude, and disrespectful.”

“That too,” Jack nodded and took another sip of his coffee. “Listen,” Jack said, standing up slowly. Carys pretended not to notice as he adjusted his snug tee-shirt and heaved up his pants by the belt loops. His clothes were so ill-fitting, it shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it did. “If he ever gives you a hard time just tell me. I can take care of Rick.”

Carys forced a brief smile and shrugged her shoulders. “How kind of you,” she laughed. “My knight in shining armor,” Carys mumbled under her breath as Jack turned to leave.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she dismissed him quickly, blushing. Why the hell am I so awkward? Carys thought to herself, placing her own empty coffee cup on the counter. He has a girlfriend, Carys reminded herself. He isn’t a play toy. He’s a human being with thoughts and feelings. He matters.

This was the struggle. It made Carys feel like a monster. She was so attracted to Jack physically, but she wanted a relationship. What if they didn’t get along. Could she tolerate his personality for his body? Was that wrong? Yes. It had to be, right? Carys turned to the window as Jack exited the kitchen and made his way back towards the farm. This attraction would be the death of her.

-----------

“Good morning, Carys,” Martha slid into the kitchen silently, causing Carys to nearly drop the eggs she held in her hand.

“Martha,” Carys sighed. “No one is usually up this early, how can I help you?”

Carys couldn’t deny that she loved her quiet early mornings in the kitchen. Being interrupted didn’t help her start her day any faster.

“Jack is going into town for a few supplies today, I thought you might be interested in tagging along?”

“I thought we were self-sustaining here,” Carys said, a bit more curious.

“Well we are, for the most part,” Martha admitted. “But let’s just say we don’t have a ton of clothes in Jack’s size.”

Carys nodded in acknowledgment. She never knew how to react to Martha’s matter-of-fact tone about Jack’s weight. She remembered her first experience as a “chubby chaser.” All of her friends would remark how big her secret sweetheart had gotten. They were simply stating the facts, but Carys felt a warmth growing in her belly every time they did. There was something so delightful about being brutally honest with the way someone looked, especially if that someone was clearly overweight and doing nothing about it - like Jack.

“He wouldn’t want me telling you that,” Martha said. She had picked up on Carys’ awkwardness, but couldn’t possibly know the reason behind it. Let her think I dislike talking about people behind their backs, Carys thought, that’s believable enough - more believable than the fact that Jack’s tight clothes turn me on. “Last I checked Jack had some personal affairs in town to check up on,” Martha winked. “It’ll give you some time to explore, if you know what I mean.”

Carys, in fact, did not know what Martha meant - as usual. But she could guess. Rick had mentioned Jack’s girlfriend, and Carys had never witnessed Jack talking to many girls on the farm, which gave Carys reason to believe his special lady friend resided in town. On one hand her eyes were burning with jealousy, Jack leaving her in town to go rendez-vous with his girlfriend. But on the other hand she was too preoccupied thinking of a car ride alone with the handsome man, the idea of him fitting himself behind the driver’s wheel of a car, shopping for new, better-fitting clothes, the chance to actually force some conversation out of him. Carys hardly thought twice - she was in.

“Alright,” she smiled. “I’ll go.”

“Perfect,” Martha nodded. “Be ready after breakfast, someone else can handle lunch for you.”
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:37 AM   #5
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Chapter Five

The car seemed to sway to one side and settle back to level ground as Jack shifted into his seat behind the wheel. Carys held her breath, staring at the way his stomach spilled out and rested on his thighs, coming within inches of touching the steering wheel. His shirt strained so wonderfully against his massive gut. The indent of his belly button was clearly visible. Jack’s love handles, the one she so vividly imagined grabbing onto for leverage, were seeping out from under the hem of his tshirt. Being in such close proximity to the object of her desires was dangerous. Carys could feel the tension growing in her own stomach as he shifted closer to her. She caught scent of his cologne - something warm, with a hint of sweetness to it.

Carys let her eyes wander. In all the time she had been at the farm she had only seen Jack wear actual pants a handful of times. She had noticed that he stuck mostly to gym shorts and the occasional sweatpants when lounging around the common room, and even those items seemed to be stretched tight against his width. Carys knew a fine specimen when she saw one. Jack definitely had the cutest pear shaped body she had ever seen up closer and personal.

Today was no exception, Jack wore gym shorts, the black ones with the red stripe, that clung to his ass like nothing she had ever seen before.

“Martha said you were going to drop me off somewhere in town?” Carys watched as Jack pushed his curly hair away from his face. His arms were surprisingly toned compared to the rest of his body. All that heavy lifting, it probably gave him quite the appetite, Carys thought with a slight smile, it does a body good.

“She did?” Jack seemed surprised, turning to look in Carys’ direction.

“Are you not?”

“No,” Jack said quickly. “I mean, a couple months back I might’ve, but no, I have nothing to do you can’t be there for. I wouldn’t just leave you in the middle of a town you’ve never been to.”

“How kind,” she mused, a bit sarcastically, but Carys really couldn’t help herself. A hint of a smile spread across Jack’s warm features. He really was quite handsome, detached from his size. The extra padding he carried was a definite turn on, but Carys probably would have still found herself attracted to him even if he were skinny as a pole - which was definitely saying something based on how Carys felt towards skinny guys.

“You aren’t the most joyful of people, you know,” Jack muttered, reaching across his body to pull the seatbelt into place. It hardly made it’s way around his girth. Jack fumbled with the band until it was mostly comfortable underneath his gut. It seemed like the car got smaller every time he needed to use it.

“Look who’s talking,” she shot back. Was this witty banter? Carys thought to herself, smiling smugly as she gave Jack an over-dramatic wink. He only shook his head. “What changed?” Carys asked, as Jack turned on the car engine and adjusted his seat a few more times. Her flickering eyes couldn’t seem to draw in the whole of his body. She didn’t want to be caught staring, but it was so hard to keep from being obvious.

“Excuse me?” Jack arched one eyebrow, perplexed.

“A couple months back,” Carys continued. “Why would you have dropped me in the middle of nowhere a couple months back, but not now?”

Jack made a face that Carys couldn’t quite read. He probably had quite the jawline under that double chin of his, but she liked his face better this way - round and sweet. In the back of her mind, Carys imagined complacency with that face. She pictured drinking morning coffee inside a home, rather than their strange little commune. She imagined the soft sound of wind chimes in the back yard and the laundry hanging out on the line - how massive his delicates would look hanging up next to hers. She imagined giggling slightly as he tried to fit himself into a pair of shorts that he swore had fit perfectly just a few months before, and cuddling his warm, soft figure under their tangled sheets as they lounged lazily on a Sunday morning.

His voice brought her back to reality with a slight flush of pink on her cheeks - as if Jack could read her thoughts.

“I was in a thing,” he paused, sounding slightly embarrassed with his own terminology. “More than a thing, a relationship” he corrected himself. “With a girl in town. It wasn’t anything serious, I mean, we were together, but she didn’t really -” he fumbled with the words. A pang of compassion filled her chest. “We clicked on an emotional level, but physically I think she felt, well - she was disappointed. I’m not exactly Hercules, you know.”

People were so blind, Carys knew this to be true in all walks of life. They missed out on what was right in front of them. Jack with his solidarity, his calm attitude, his dedication to work and to the earth, he was a dream. But people only saw what was on the outside, and not all people were as loving as Carys.

So Rick had been wrong, Jack didn’t have a girlfriend - not anymore at least. Maybe some residual emotional damage from it, but that was nothing Carys hadn’t encountered before. People had a good way of messing with the emotionally stability of those they loved. And crappy ex-girlfriend had been wrong, so wrong. To Carys, Jack seemed like the perfect Hercules.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quickly putting the cramped car in reverse and backing out of the dirt driveway. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“It’s okay,” Carys replied quickly. “I have one of those faces.”

And then Jack smiled, a real, genuine smile, dimpled cheeks and all. And Carys, well, Carys was sold.

If some little bird had whispered in her ear as they drove through the countryside that by the next morning Carys would wake up with her body pressed against his, his arm resting under her head, her fingers draped across the dome of his belly, she never would have believed it.

-----------

Most of the drive was spent in silence. Carys felt as though the emotional bomb Jack had just dropped needed time to fizzle out. He didn’t seem keen on start conversation, and Carys felt as though she should just sit tight until he was ready to talk again. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about some shit ex-girlfriend of his. The silence, however, was comfortable.

Being around a social metropolis, or what passed for one in these parts, was a bit of reverse culture shock for Carys. She hadn’t been living on the farm all that long, but somehow the outside world had become increasingly materialistic in her time away.

They picked up a few things around town, an overwhelming experience after having seen the same people day after day for a month, before pulling into the parking lot of a men’s big and tall store. Jack unbuckled without saying a world, and shimmied out of the car. Carys took a precious moment to stare while his back was turned.

“Are you coming?” Jack asked, looking behind him.

“Can I?”

“Seriously?” Jack half-laughed. “Does it look like I care?”

Carys shrugged and followed suit, unbuckling herself from the car and stepping out with ease. There was something tantalizing about the way Jack struggled to fit himself into the places much smaller people had no difficulty with. Carys knew she shouldn’t have found it so intriguing, but she did.

“Jack,” the sales associate bellowed as they entered the store. It smelled like musty, old cologne, but Carys noted it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Jack seemed relaxed. “Back again? And so soon?”

Carys lurked behind the large man, admiring how he moved about the racks of clothing. Even though they were farther spread apart than she would have seen in an average store, Jack still had to do some maneuvering to avoid knocking over a row of dress pants.

“We have a new cook,” Jack replied. “What can I say, she’s renewed my love for good food.”

The sales associate, an older man with a set of broad shoulders and a thick middle, glanced in Carys’ direction. His face asked the silent question, is that her? Jack nodded.

“You take good care of him,” the man said, flashing a smile intended for Carys. “He’s a faithful customer, but we don’t carry every size here. I wouldn’t want to lose his business.”

Jack turned around and winked.

And at that Carys blushed. Had Jack gotten bigger since she started cooking for him? Carys remembered the day she watched him in the garden, tight tshirt and sweat glistening his round face. He was looking a little wider, now that she was paying attention, and those shorts? Those shorts didn’t always cling to him so tightly did they?

“It’s not her fault I keep sizing up, Tony,” Jack smiled sheepishly. He seemed to have no shame on the subject. “I’m a growing boy, after all.”

Emotionally unavailable or not, Carys could have taken him right then and there without a second thought.
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:44 AM   #6
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Chapter Six

It was a whirlwind of events after they left the store. Carys relished in her memories of it, Jack trying on shirts and pants, shorts, and even a pair of swim trunks, sighing in frustration as all of them either “fit funny” or were “too tight.” He settled with a pair of jeans, some plain gym shorts, and two tshirts, obviously not “making out like a bandit” and rather unhappy about it. Despite his attempts to hide it, shopping was obviously not Jack’s favorite weekend activity.

If he was being honest with himself, it sucked, plain and simple. There was a twinge of excitement that came with knowing he was too big to be contained in such puny clothes. But that twinge also came with a sense of dread. Tony was right, at some point - and some point impossibly soon - he wouldn’t be able to fit into any of the clothes they sold at the big and tall. And what would he do then? Online shopping was an option, he guessed, but it seemed like such a hassle, and what if those clothes refused to fit? What would he do then?

Jack knew better than to blame anyone but himself for his size, although he would be crazy to deny that Carys had been a part of it. He’d gained weight since she arrived. It was easy enough to hide. He was already huge, no one would really notice another fifteen pounds or so. It had been a couple months since the last time his weight escalated so quickly. After Sarah had broken up with him he’d gone up at least thirty pounds.

As Jack stood in the dressing room, struggling to keep a pair of shorts on his hips, he lifted his growing gut. There were new stretch marks he hadn’t noticed before. The mirrors were larger in the dressing room. He could get a better view of his figure. Two or three little squiggles had appeared on his side, red and angry, another testament to what his mother had called “ruining himself.”

Even though Jack could only really blame himself, he was beginning to accept that the sight of his appearance was at least a little pleasing. The recent weight gain had been completely unintentional. So many nights during the past month he had stayed at the dinner table, long past full, continuing to gorge himself so he could have an excuse to stay in Carys’ presence just a little long. He didn’t dare strike up a meaningful conversation with her, but he sure as hell would sneak into her kitchen whenever he had the chance for a snack and furtive glance in her direction. She would smirk at him slyly as he stuck his fingers into a leftover slice of pie and say, under her breath, “Why don’t you eat a carrot or something?”

And he would remark, “I don’t like vegetables.”

So Carys had made her appearance at the farm and Jack had gotten fatter. It wasn’t exactly conducive to wooing her. Traditionally, girls weren’t going to seek out the big guy. They made great friends, always a shoulder to cry on, funny enough to be crowned the comedy man, always up for a laugh. But the friend zone could be a cruel and lonely place. Jack knew someone like Carys, small, moderate curves, a flawless smile, and hair that seemed to look effortlessly messy, wasn’t going to be immediately drawn to him. Her personality, sarcastic, quiet, reserved, seemed to be impossible to break. Two introverted people like themselves would have a difficult time actually starting a friendship, let alone anything more. His reservation was biting him in the ass, Jack realized.

Martha had been crucial, he thought to himself, pushing Carys to go into town with him. And as he laid there the morning after, still completely awestruck by what had happened the day before, he sent up silent thanks to Martha and her devious, insightful mind for all things involving Jack and romance.

-----------

Carys wasn’t entirely sure when she made the concrete decision to make her move. She assumed it was in the store with Jack, when the sales associate started commenting on his size, when he blamed her cooking for his recent weight gain, when he came out of the dressing room flustered, asking her to grab him a larger size.

But by the time they left the store, Carys knew the time for waiting and hiding behind batting eyelashes was over. If she didn’t do it now, she would be paralyzed by her own fears forever. It wasn’t necessarily that Carys feared rejection, she did, but it went beyond that. Ever since she was young Carys knew that her desires were a little bit out there.

Big guys were one thing. A man with nice thighs and a plump belly to top it off was practically what she lived for. But a guy who knew he was big, one who loved food, who was hesitant to take another bite because he knew his clothes could only take so much pressure, who would openly talk about his size, one who would have both fear and excitement whenever he stepped on the scales, that’s what drove Carys over the edge. She liked her men already a little fat, growing fatter, whether intentional or not.

Her plan for “seducing” the man was simple. Simple in the fact that she didn’t have one. Making the first move was terrifying. Carys knew it didn’t have to be hard. All she had to do was open her mouth, ask if he was maybe interested in getting a bite to eat. No strings attached. Get more personal when the time felt right. Carys swallowed hard. She opened her mouth, hesitating only slightly as Jack walked next to her towards the car.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, freezing in his tracks. Jack’s whole demeanor seemed to change in an instant. Carys clamped her mouth shut, following the direction of his eyes. A girl was walking towards them. A woman, Carys corrected herself, not a girl.

“Holy hell, Jack,” she said, stopping ten feet away from them and smirking ever so slightly. Carys knew, almost immediately, who this stranger had to be, and the vibes radiating off of her were less than pleasant. Instinctively, Carys drew closer to Jack, the only person on the sidewalk she actually knew. “Rick told me you didn’t handle the break up well, but this,” she scoffed, looking him up and down. “This is a real surprise.”

Carys watched as Jack stood motionless. His eyes were focused at some spot on the concrete. She didn’t have to know Jack all that well to start feeling defensive. The shit ex-girlfriend was a shit ex-girlfriend for a reason.

“Good to see you, too, Sarah,” Jack mumbled.

“I mean, we’ve already had this conversation thousands of times, so I probably shouldn’t bring it up again,” Sarah continued, ignoring Jack’s greeting. “Especially not in front of your little love interest,” Carys felt the woman’s judging eyes as they bore down on her. Sarah was tall and fit, a bit curvier than Carys and in all the right places. Her face wasn’t a work of art, per se, but she pulled it off well. If this was the kid of woman Jack was interested in, Carys felt both a spark of hope and a flood of intimidation.

“But aren’t you getting a little too old to keep disregarding your figure like this?” Sarah rambled. “I mean, you were a fat ass when we dated. I thought you were going to eat me out of house and home. My friends were right, Jack, you were only ever going to get bigger. It’s such a pity, you’re not ugly. You could have passed as attractive back then, Jack, but now? It’s kind of pathetic, no,” Sarah paused. “Pathetic is too harsh. It’s just sad, Jack, that’s what it is. It’s sad. Can you even see your toes anymore, or is that gut of yours blocking them out of the picture?”

Carys felt the fury. This was wrong, absolutely wrong. How had he put up with someone like this, breathing insecurities down his neck every time he took his shirt off, criticizing the way he ate, making him feel guilty for the things that brought him pleasure.

“Jack,” Carys said quietly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Jack, let’s go,” she said, a little louder this time. “You don’t have to listen to her.” Sarah seemed satisfied. She had made her point. Carys, on the other hand, was disgusted.

“Have fun you two,” the taller woman called out as Jack turned and followed Carys to the car. And that’s how you have your chances of sleeping together ruined, Carys mused, vemenous ex-girlfriends.

-----------

The majority of the car ride was veiled in silence. Carys appeared calm and indifferent, but inside her mind was racing through scenarios and sentences she could say to make the situation easier to process, to make Jack feel better. All of her usual snarky responses seemed out of place and sarcasm just wouldn’t do. Being a genuine person was so hard, this was why Carys tried her damnedest to avoid it at all costs.

Jack, on the other hand, was shit at hiding his emotions. The usually stoic man couldn’t keep from fidgeting. One moment he would roll the windows down, feeling unbearably warm under his own skin, and the next he found himself shivering despite the heat and roll them back up. The odds of running into Sarah had been slim, but present. He’d weighed those odds before even going into town and, deciding it necessary, he had chosen to ignore them - right up until the moment Sarah came waltzing out of hell, taken a left at “Jack’s mortification” avenue, and then straight to main street where she successfully ruined his chances of ever impressing Carys.

“I’m sorry about that,” Jack finally said when they were minutes away from the farm.

“Don’t apologize,” Carys said softly, physically turning in the passenger seat to face Jack. He seemed smaller somehow, embarrassed. It broke her heart. “That was so unbelievably wrong of her, she should never have said any of that.”

“But it’s true,” he retorted quickly. “All of it’s true.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Carys shook her head. “So what if it’s true? She’s a she-devil.”

Jack forced a smile, but Carys could feel the unease and disturbance radiating off his shoulders.

“If it makes a difference,” she said, turning back to face the road as they started down the long driveway, their journey reaching an end. “I don’t think it was all true. I don’t think you’re unattractive the way you are,” her stomach turned. The last time she felt this worked up over telling a guy she liked him was high school.

She had put it out there, waiting for a reply, but Jack said nothing. He parked the car, grabbed his bags of clothes, and left without another word. Carys sat there in silence, fighting off warm, confused tears. She pressed her forehead into the dashboard and let out an aggravated sigh. Carys didn’t have much time to sulk, it was already four o’clock and the workers would be finishing up their duties and waiting eagerly for dinner before she’d even have time to boil water.
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:46 AM   #7
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Chapter Seven

Carys acknowledge the various “thank you”s and “good job”s customary at the end of the meal. Her attention, however, was elsewhere. Carys watched the door, waiting patiently at first, and then slowly dissolving into an uneasy puddle of emotions by the time dinner ended. She was numb inside. Numb, save for desperate longing to see Jack’s face. He hadn’t shown for dinner, and apparently no one had heard from him.

“He’s probably trying to cut back,” Rick said when Carys had asked if he’d seen the gardener anywhere lately. “You know, skipping supper.”

Carys glared. She didn’t know why she bothered asking Rick in the first place.

Long after everyone had cleared out of the dining room she remained seated, fiddling with a fork, putting off washing dishes, lost in thought. Carys liked to think she had moved past all of this, but Jack brought it out in her. This lovesick version of herself was familiar, but took a different form every time the illness struck.

Eventually, Carys resigned to the sanctuary of her kitchen. She put away all the leftovers, tidied the cooking supplies, tackled the dishes one dirty plate at a time. It all seemed fragile. Emotions she didn’t want to feel welled up inside her and she tried to shut them out. What the hell, Carys thought as she scrubbed mercilessly at a fork, she was too old to feel this way about a boy.

The only lights on were the ones directly above the sink, the rest of the kitchen was covered in shadows. She didn’t see him making his way down the hall or through the dining hall, she didn’t hear him over the running water.

“Are there any leftovers?”

Carys dropped a plate into the sudsy water, causing a miniature tidal wave to soak the front of her shirt. “What the hell!” She exclaimed, pulling the wet fabric away from her skin and spinning around to meet her intruder. “Jack, seriously?”

She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to hug him or kick him out of her kitchen. Ultimately, Carys was thrilled to see him. “What is wrong with you?” The sight of his amusement, the obvious smile on his face, calmed her, but it didn’t keep her from throwing the dirty dishrag at his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His attitude had shifted remarkably, but the deep seeded insecurities seemed to lurk just behind his smile. Carys never noticed them before, she had no reason to, Jack always came across as confident with who he was.

“The leftovers are in the fridge to your right,” Carys nodded towards the industrial size refrigerators lining the far wall of the kitchen space. Jack tossed the dishrag back in her direction and Carys turned back to her duties, carefully listen as Jack unearthed the neatly packed leftovers. He sat on his usual stool and dug in without bothering to warm anything first.

“Why weren’t you at dinner?” Carys asked casually, her back to him as she spoke. She didn’t want Jack to pick up on her concern. She had already put herself out there once and nothing came of that. Carys wasn’t keen on facing rejection twice in one day.

“I had some farm duties,” Jack said between bites. He was probably the loudest eater of anyone at the farm. “I didn’t get to them because we went into town, and there’s no way you can trust the interns to actually do their job.”

“To do your job,” Carys corrected.

“Same thing,” he mumbled. The conversation was rolling easily enough, but Carys was on edge.

“I thought that maybe you hadn’t wanted to eat because of-” She stopped mid-sentence. All of her words were coming out wrong, she didn’t want to offend Jack, or make him feel uncomfortable all over again.

“Because of what Sarah said?” He asked, Carys turned to meet his gaze. She was relieved to see a certain calmness in his expression. “I’m not going to stop eating because my ex-girlfriend called me out on being fat. I am fat. She was right,” Jack shrugged.

“Jack, you aren’t-”

“Carys,” he said, forcing a weak smile with his mouth full of food. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know what I look like, I’m not blind.”

Sighing, Carys turned around and leaned against the counter. “It’s not my best,” she said, after a moment of silence, looking at the tupperware that had once been full of pasta and white sauce. Jack had already demolished more than half of it.

“I’ve had worse.”

She stopped stealing glances at his figure and started to shamelessly stare. Jack already knew, she’d told him, what more embarrassment could come from getting caught staring? Her gaze started at his ankles. All of Jack was thick, simply put, just his calves alone were probably larger than her thighs. They looked strong, well-built. Carys imagined that if he didn’t carry his love for food around with him constantly in the form of plump, delicious fat he’d probably be built like the trunk of a tree. His thighs, as Carys had already witnessed first hand, were the work of the gods. With luck she might one day get the prized view of Jack’s ass. Sometimes, when he wore shorts that should have been retired forty pounds ago, she could make out the little dimples that speckled his ass. His wide hips were built steadily, giving his lower half a lovely shape. They broke formation and a roll of pudge (although it had been a long time since “pudge” was an acceptable term for his torso) spilled forward over his waistband.

As Jack sat, perched perfectly on the stool, Carys was delighted to see that even one of his new shirts seemed pressured by his gut. He leaned back slightly, trying to find the counter behind the stool, and Carys watched anxiously as his shirt rode up a few inches. The olive skin underneath was a much lighter tone than the rest of his body, tender and soft. Her palms ached out of the desire to reach out and grab it, to massage his growing body as he stuffed himself full of the food she had prepared.

“Woah,” Jack sighed, placing the dish behind him and resting a hand idly on the peak of his stomach, taunt and firm from his dinner. His love for food was so evident, the feeling of being too full to do anything comfortably, to feel trapped inside his shrinking clothes, the way his gut expanded, becoming solid after he had forced as much food into it as he could stand. Carys licked her lips without even realizing it, pausing in shock when Jack’s eyes met hers and his eyebrows shot up in a questioning glance. As if she hadn’t been mortified by her feelings already once today. “I should not have eaten all of that.”

Carys inhaled sharply. “No one made you,” the words came out dry and cracked, like mud that’s set in the sun too long. Jack began to tap his foot, something Carys had always assumed was just a little tick. She had never noted how the movement of his thigh against the overhang of his belly caused his beautiful gut to shake and quiver slightly. Jack had to be doing this on purpose. He had to know this was going to wreck her entirely. Carys clenched her fists around the dirty dishrag, in awe of how difficult it was to break her gaze from his.

“Not this time,” he said slowly.

Jack hadn’t felt this way in months, not even when he was with Sarah. There had been so many things wrong with his prior relationship. He didn’t sleep enough, he was always exhausted, he ate too much - although that had nothing to do with Sarah. She hated that he lived on a “filthy commune.” She dealt with his weight, rather unhappily. She had meant well, Jack truly believed that, but she had done just the opposite.

The two had meet a few months into the job, back when he was a much smaller individual. At first she just poked fun at his belly, harmless and sweet, but eventually it felt as if he had to apologize for his body every time they were together. Sarah said that she loved him, and tolerated the fact that he was fat, but she did not enjoy it. When he asked her if she would prefer him to lose weight, she’d half-smile and say something about, “Well, for your health, but not for me.” They both knew health had very little to do with it. She was getting sick of being the fat guy’s girlfriend.

He saw the way Carys looked at him, he’d noticed it the first day she arrived in the kitchen. Jack had scowled then, he wasn’t entirely sure why Carys had been staring. He was a big guy, he drew attention to himself because of it, but not usually the good kind of attention. In the weeks that followed, Carys’ glances had intensified. He caught her staring more than she would ever have admitted. It didn’t take long for Jack to realize she wasn’t staring at him - his size, his ass, his gut - the way Sarah had stared. Carys actually looked like she wanted him.

And then came her confession in the car, not that Jack gave it a lot of credit at the time. He assumed Carys would say anything to make him feel better. Carys didn’t know that Jack could take the critique, he’d heard it all before, if not from Sarah, he’d hear it from his mother, or his sister, or an old, trusted friend. On really bad days he had said those exact things to himself, but they didn’t matter. Jack had learned a long time ago that he was more than just his weight.

Jack had left the car in a hurry, gone to his room, and just sat there. It was a lot to process. He’d gone to do a few chores in the remaining daylight, which ended up fading faster than he accounted for, and missed dinner entirely. So he’d sought out leftovers in the kitchen, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he would find her there. And as he dug into the pasta, not caring whether he made a mess or embarrassed himself with how much food he could demolish in one sitting, Jack realized that

“Carys,” he said, in a firm, but tender tone of voice. “Be honest with me.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

Jack shrugged. “I need to ask you something.”

She nodded, letting the dishrag slip into the sink and taking a step in Jack’s direction. Her heart was pounding. “Yeah?”

“Did you make dessert as well?”
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:47 AM   #8
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Chapter Eight

“You’re kidding me,” Carys said loudly, her face dropping and a frown clearly visible across her delicate features.

“Well, I mean,” Jack shrugged his shoulders. Shit, why had be said that? Couldn’t he have just said what was on his mind? “Kind of, but not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” Carys said, pushing away Jack’s arm as he reached out to her. Flirting. It suddenly struck her that this was flirting. Witty banter, playful touches, his stupid joking. Of course it was flirting. And what else did she expect to happen? Romance had to start somewhere. Jack wasn’t about to ride up on a white horse and whisk her away to some untold fantasy. Truthfully, Carys wouldn’t have been bothered if he did. But no, they had to start somewhere. Carys was no stranger to taking things slow, but it had taken a month for them to get to this point. Another eleven months and she would have lived up her contract at the farm, and then on to, hopefully, bigger things. What if they didn’t develop anything in that time? Carys tried to block out the thoughts. Would she be okay leaving, knowing there could have been something between the two of them and never was?

She rolled her eyes, allowing her annoyance to mask the overwhelming worry she had started to dwell on, and marched towards the fridge where she had left the remnants of a tiramisu layer cake. She couldn’t allow herself to imagine feeding Jack. Tiramisu would have been the best first time feeding experience. Carys had never actually fed someone, but there was always a twinge of excitement in the pit of her stomach when she thought of it. “There’s cake in here,” Carys mumbled, yanking open the door.

“Hey,” Jack called out defensively, his voice closer. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Carys whirled around, shocked to find Jack stood only a few feet away. “It was a joke. You didn’t have to actually get me the cake. I can go without dessert.”

Jack took another step forward, watching as Carys’ eyes widened and her cheeks flush with color. Something inside compelled him to reach out once more, and brush her arm. She’d smacked him away when he tried that stunt earlier, but the atmosphere felt different this time. Carys’ eyes followed his hand and her whole body shivered as he touched her shoulder, sliding down her arm until his hand clasped onto hers.

“Carys,” he said, studying every aspect of face. She had strong features, delicate and feminine, but very strong. It would be hard to recreate her unconventional beauty elsewhere. What on earth had caused a creature like this to look at him the way she did? For a flickering second Jack thought that maybe, just maybe, she had been away from the real world so long that she had decided to settle for him. He’d seen it happen countless other times, but usually the person would settle for someone like Rick - and regret it immediately after. Things were different this time around, Carys was looking at him - not Rick - with her large, hazel eyes that seemed to contain a world within themselves. Her solid jawline and petite, slender nose. His stomach turned at the thought. Carys was some mythical creature and he was just a fat farmer.

“I’m really happy that you’re here,” he said finally. Her eyes flickered back and forth, assessing the situation, trying to read the expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Carys shook her head.

“Jack,” she pulled her hand away from his. “Please stop talking.” His eyebrows knit together immediately. Had he read her wrong the entire time? “Just kiss me already.”

“What?” The word fell out of his mouth before his brain told him to shut up and kiss the girl.

“Kiss me,” Carys demanded. If, you know, that’s what you want, Carys thought to herself, but bit her lip and swallowed apprehensively instead of actually saying it out loud. Could Jack see her shaking with nerves?

“You make an offer I can’t refuse,” Jack said in a low voice, realizing how incredibly lame he sounded. Picking up women was not his strong point, but damn, he could grow some vegetables and graft a fruit tree like no one’s business. Why didn’t people care about that instead?

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Carys knew a few short seconds had flown by, but it felt as if the world was put on hold as Jack took one final step closer, his body pressing against hers. For the first time she felt the true force of his size. His stomach pressed against hers and she felt her body sink into it’s mass. His thighs were there, brushing against her legs. A thick, strong arm was on the small of her back and the other pressed firmly against the fridge. Jack pushed forward, pinning her against the cool metal behind them as his head turned slightly to the side and the space between them evaporated.

Carys had a lot of good memories in her twenty-three years of life, but the first time that Jack kissed her would from that moment on be at the top of her list. His hesitancy was made up for with the sheer power of his lips, full and sweet, against hers. Kissing someone who mattered really made all the difference. She struggled for a moment with where to put her hands, unsure of what would feel right until her fingers started to rake through his curly hair and her right hand found the gently sloping expanse of his waist. It all made sense. This was why she liked big guys, this was why she liked Jack.

Words could hardly describe it, and culture would forever sneer at it, but until they knew what it felt like to be completely overpowered by a man of Jack’s size, they would remain in the dark about her passions. Carys’ hands were so small compared to his midsection. There was so much to touch and her hands longed to know every inch of him. Carys pulled him in closer, her palm grasping the rolls of his side.

When they finally broke apart, hearts fluttering and stomachs tied in knots, Carys saw Jack’s sheepish smile dissolve into a bashful grin, followed by the deep vibration of his laughter.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” He asked, pressing his forehead against hers. Carys brushed hair away from his face, and grinned.

“How about that dessert?” She asked, softly massaging his side with her fingers. Jack didn’t seem to mind that she caressed some of his thickest areas. Normally, he might have said something, but it seemed such a shame to ruin a beautiful moment with petty talk of insecurities.

“Actually,” Jack said, straightening his back and pulling away ever so slightly. Carys kept her hand on his waist, rubbing back and forth. She felt the warmth between her legs spread. “I had something else in mind.”
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:48 AM   #9
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Chapter Nine

“I, uh,” Jack seemed hesitant. A few moments ago this had been his idea, and how he was stalling. Carys held her breath, nervous of what might come out of his mouth next. “I haven’t done any of this in,” he paused again. Get on with it, Carys thought to herself, as Jack moved across the floor of his bedroom to shut the door and lock it. “What I’m trying to say is that the last time I did any of this was, like, fifty pounds ago.”

Which, of course, was an instant turn on. Carys didn’t know why, there was a certain sort of vulnerability in his tone of voice, and Carys immediately wanted more of him. If she hadn’t already been aching to be a part of Jack, she was now overcome with the desire to have him lay with her.

“Not that it matters,” he hesitated. It sort of mattered, Jack admitted, silently. When Sarah had broken up with him he weighed a little more than 240, add another thirty pounds of post-break up weight gain to that and he was tipping the scales at 273, and then, of course, the past month had completely wrecked him. Lovesickness made him overeat, it was a proven fact. He had to be just shy of three hundred now. Jack suddenly felt his dinner weighing him down heavily. Almost three hundred pounds. He had never actually imagined that would happen to him. He’d always been a big guy, but three-hundred had always been unimaginable. Now he was practically there, and about to have sex with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Life wasn’t so bad.

Jack focused back in on Carys, waiting patiently for him to continue. “But I mean, I don’t know if that changes how we do sex.”

“How we do sex?” She laughed.

“I know, shit, sorry,” Jack shook his head. “Fuck, you make me so nervous, Carys, you know that, don’t you? You like making me nervous.” Carys smirked. Jack was clearly flustered. She didn’t mind that he was stumbling over all his words, and that when he tried to say one thing, another came out. If Carys had been the one speaking she would have done the same. “You enjoy watching me struggle, don’t you? Stop being so beautiful and maybe I’ll be able to actually talk around you.”

“You stop being so handsome, mister,” Carys wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go, silently thrilled that her hands - stretched as far around his back - would still not meet one another.

Lovemaking could wait a few more moments. Carys sunk her head into his chest, breathing in the warmth that surrounded Jack. Her nerves subsided as she reminded herself that this was going to be a little strange for both of them. They had each been in serious relationships before meeting one another. This was Carys’ first time with someone this large and Jack wasn’t quite accustomed to his new girth. Trial and error, Carys reminded herself. She expected it to be a little odd, no first time was ever perfect.

However, Jack surprised Carys in every way imaginable. It was wrong of her to assume that she knew more about what they were about to do than Jack did. In fact, Jack seemed to have complete control over the situation. She immediately felt a wave of guilt for thinking Jack would be inexperienced. His hands guided her with expert deftness, laying her gently on his bed, slipping his hands under her shirt, still damp from washing dishes. He allowed her to undress him slowly, as if he knew that she was drinking in every inch of his expansive torso. Carys did indeed take her time. Her touch lingered and a permanent, but concentrated, smile was spread across her face.

“Let’s take this slow, okay?” Carys said softly as she fiddled with the band of Jack’s boxers. “I want to remember every bit of it.”

Her hands pulled down, exposing every bit of his fleshy thighs and his erect member. This was what she had thought about nearly every night since arriving at the farm. “Holy hell, Jack,” Carys barely mouthed the words. “You’re well equipped.” She honestly couldn’t think of a better way to put it. His thighs were massive, sparse with hair, but full and tender. She wrapped a hand around the bulge of each, feeling the muscles under a layer of thickness. His member, well, that was another story. Carys hadn’t given much thought to what his actual dick would look like, she had always been too preoccupied with his physique. This beat her imagination on every level.

“I like to think so,” Jack responded, leaning in and supporting his weight with two arms firmly on either side of her face. He leaned in, and with hot breath and that warm, welcoming scent, pressed his lips into hers.

There were, of course, awkward moments. Carys held of complaining when it felt as if Jack were crushing her with his mass, instead she breathed deep and allowed herself to feel the full pleasure of having his weight bear down on her. At times she longed to call out his name, but reminded herself that people were sleeping in the rooms next door and her screams were bound to both wake them prematurely from their slumber and give her a reputation she could do without.

Jack hesitated when her hands brushed his stomach, but gave way to her touch as she grasped his love handles, pulling him closer and closer, even when there was no room left between them. The softness of his midsection surrounded her waist. Carys could feel Jack around her, filling up every blank space, every crevice, every tiny part that felt insignificant or empty.

When he was finally released, spilling everywhere and spreading warmth through Carys’ shivering spine, a smile fixated itself on both of the lovers faces. And that’s what they were now, lovers. Even the way she looked at Jack changed in that moment.

His tender insecurities, worn behind his eyes and on the tip of his tongue, were like a favorite pair of jeans, worn and tattered. Carys understood they may never be retired, but there was no need to don them every single day. She couldn’t force Jack to love himself, or feel confident, but she could show him love and just maybe that would help easy the worry.

Jack rolled back and shifted under the sheets next to her. She pressed her naked body against his, smelling the sweetness of his cologne and dewiness radiating from his skin. Carys let her hand rest lazily on the dome of his belly, peaking above the top of their shared sheets. His skin was soft, perfectly smooth, little chest hairs migrating down towards where his stomach swelled towards the ceiling. Carys found her fingers pulling at them rhythmically, caressing the belly she so adored.

“You’re not just going to ignore me tomorrow and pretend this never happened, are you?” Carys asked, peering up at Jack as he swung his arm around her back. Carys nestled closer into his side.

“Of course not,” he replied quickly. “I would never do that.”

“Do you like me, Jack?”

Carys watched his full lips as he began to speak. “I do,” his voice was soft. “I like you a lot.”

“Well then, glad that’s settled,” Carys smiled, placing a small kiss on the roll that formed under Jack’s chest and folded over his side. “Where do we go from here?”

“To sleep,” Jack chuckled. Carys’ arm encircled what of his belly she could manage, the ripple of flesh from his laughter causing a smile to spread across her pink cheeks. “We can talk about all of that tomorrow,” Jack continued, shifting on his side to hold her at her waist. “But for now all I want to do is sleep beside you, Carys.”
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Old 07-06-2015, 08:58 AM   #10
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Chapter Ten

So they had finally done it. Really, really done it. Jack stared wide-eyed at the ceiling above his bed. He had never taken much time to look at it, but with Carys still sleeping soundly tucked into his side, he didn’t dare move an inch. The ceiling was all he could really look at, the ceiling and Carys’ face - though he was a little nervous she’d wake up and catch him staring like a lovesick puppy at her sleeping features. She was beautiful and Jack knew he’d get lost staring at the way her eyelashes swept so evenly into a picturesque little arc or the way her nose was splattered lightly with an abstract painting of freckles.

Carys had actually slept with him. Jack needed to keep reminding himself of that every few moments. Carys had slept with him and it had been mind-blowing to say the least. But Jack, honestly, didn’t want to just say the least. He wanted to go on for hours, which he most likely would during his farm rotations, about how the previous night had gone. Her lips, soft and full, pressed against his. The way they slowly trailed down his neck, hitting every sensitive spot of skin. The palms of her hands, lightly massaging his thick sides as her tongue raked down his exposed chest, not shying away from the plump mounds of fat that peaked with warm, brown nipples. Carys wasn’t shy about much of anything.

Every little praise she gave his body, however swollen and stretched certain areas of it may have been, was followed with a delicate kiss. Carys moved like water across his bare skin, leaving little waves of affection as she went. Jack had clearly had sex before, and so had Carys, but this was special. Even when he had been somewhat thinner, Jack felt that his body was some sort of disgrace. People like Sarah, or like his mother, or little sister, only perpetuated that feeling of inadequacy. Random strangers who didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care that he was overweight made comments about how people carrying extra padding should be ashamed of themselves. Whether they meant harm or not, they caused it. Alongside those extra pounds and inches Jack carried on a daily basis, he carried what had once just been their negativity, but was now transformed into his own form of self-deprecation.

It had gotten better as of late, Jack knew that much. Living on the farm had given him a huge sense of purpose that was once lacking in his life. His body didn’t so much matter. When compared to the great things life had to offer, being overweight was not a huge deal. And now, knowing that people like Carys existed, Jack felt a surge of confidence he’d never considered before.

Jack glanced over as her eyelashes fluttered twice and then opened. The morning after was beginning and Jack suddenly felt unprepared and awkward. He didn’t know what to say to her and all the things that had transpired the night before would be difficult to put into words. He hoped that her face would be clear in expression, that he’d know just what Carys was thinking.

“Good morning,” he said in a low voice as Carys snuggled herself closer to him and met his gaze with her hazel eyes.

“Morning, Jack,” Carys replied, smiling wide. She looked so comfortable there with him, Jack observed, but her eyes betrayed her - they were stoic, reserved, searching out the expression in his before taking on one of their own. For a moment Jack found himself wondering if she regretted it. Maybe in the daylight, when she could see his double chin, or feel the uneven texture of his thick thighs, she would reconsider. “What time is it?” She added quickly, feigning a yawn and breaking away from him to search for her phone. Jack kept his arm around her bare shoulders.

“Shit,” Carys cursed before Jack could mutter a reply. “I should have started breakfast a half hour ago.”

She jumped forward and yanked the covers off, exposing Jack’s near-naked self in the process. He felt momentarily jilted by her rushed attitude, and that brought about an all-too-familiar feeling of doubt. Jack fiddled with the sheets, wanting to pull them up over his stomach and chest, but Carys turned again before he could do so. She had her clothes from the night before in hand.

“Well?” Carys said, eyeing him expectantly. She paused to admire the view before her. Even laying down there was a nice elevation to his gut. Carys loved his body. It was every teenage dream come true, everything she had been too afraid to go for in college, everything she had regretted not pursuing after. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“With you?” Jack said, propping himself up on one elbow, his fleshy middle rolling softly towards one side. Carys smiled, sitting back on the bed just for a moment. She patted his tummy gently, and slid her hand up his side, a sly smile appeared on her face.

“I could use your help,” she grinned. “Besides, there’s still cake to be eaten.”

-----------

Jack was sitting shirtless on his usual stool in the kitchen when Martha walked in. Her face first registered as shock. There were plenty of explainable reasons, whether it was the fact that Jack was up so early in the morning and with Carys in the kitchen, or whether it was the image of him eating tiramisu with his shirt off for breakfast, neither could say. Maybe it was a combination of the two. After a moment, Martha recovered, turning to address Carys as her busy hands were flying in every direction, hurrying to finish breakfast.

“Cutting it a bit close today, aren’t we?” Martha’s reprimand rolled off the young woman’s shoulders. Martha wasn’t hard to please, but she appreciated timeliness above all else.

“I had a late night,” Carys replied, trying to hide her quick glance in Jack’s direction. She didn’t know whether it was inappropriate or not to sleep with your co-workers. It wasn’t a subject that had been covered in orientation.

It was then that the realization hit Martha. Jack suspected she had known this would happen a long time ago and waited patiently for the day when all her scheming came to fruition. Not that Martha deserved any credit in pushing the two young people together. She had encouraged Carys to take the trip into town with Jack, but how had she known what would come of that. Still, the shock in Martha’s eyes was quickly followed by a spark of mischief. Jack wouldn’t put anything past the conniving, half-drunken, manipulative -

“Are you going to help her, Jack? Or are you just going to sit there stuffing your face?” Martha pulled Jack away from his internal monologue, catching him - naturally - with a large piece of cake in his mouth. He had long since grown accustomed to Martha’s critique. It was harmless. “Since you’re here, might as well help,” she continued with a shrug. “Your lady awaits.”

Your lady. Martha knew. And now they would be the brunt of her jokes for months to come. Not that Jack really minded, the idea of someone like Carys being “his lady” was victory enough. The young cook turned with a skillet still in hand and winked at him. They hadn’t had much time to talk about the night before. Carys went into her own little world when she was cooking and couldn’t bother to be interrupted.

Those full lips pulled up in a wide and devilish smile. Jack had no choice but to respond. He placed what was left of the tiramisu on the counter and stood up, not caring that his belly seemed to jiggle obscenely and Martha’s judging eyes focused all too intently on it. What Martha thought of him hardly mattered at all. There was another, far more important, set of eyes focused on his midsection.

“Congratulations,” Martha whispered, patting him on the arm as she passed him on the way out of the kitchen. Jack felt pride. He had felt the emotion before, a swelling, warm feeling inside his chest, he had done something good, something right. But never before had he thought it when he looked at the romantic side of his life. It was a swift kick in the ass towards his insecurities. Take that, Jack wanted to say. Both Sarah and his mother had been wrong when they claimed no one would find him attractive because of his size.

Jack stood next to the much smaller woman. She nudged his side with her elbow and smiled before returning to her work. Jack took her direction and began chopping peppers and onions. They finished before the rush of workers arrived in the dining hall.

“Stay in here with me,” Carys pleaded, reaching out to hold his hand. “Let’s eat here, just you and me.”

-----------

“So,” Jack said as they laid together on his bed. Mid-afternoon exhaustion had hit. Carys knew they shouldn’t have stayed up so late the night before, but in no way did she regret it. Her suggestion to go back to Jack’s room for an afternoon nap had obviously been code for something else. It still involved a bed, Carys thought, so it wasn’t a huge stretch of the truth.

Carys draped a bare leg over Jack’s thigh. This was already moving fast for her, but she had no desire to slow it down. She had spent so many nights thinking about the soft, but heavy, flesh of Jack’s ever-growing middle. Carys had imagined all the ways she could wrap her arms around him, snuggle closer to him, the pictures their bodies would make as they made love. She had obsessed over it, embarrassing as that was. None of her fantasies involving Jack, or any other big guy for that matter, could amount to the true feeling of her arms around him.

The bare skin pressed against hers was always hot to the touch, Jack ran warm - or so he said. Carys had found a way to maneuver herself tightly against his bulging sides so that his love-handles and belly fell slightly on top of her. Carys hadn’t expected Jack to be so, well, heavy. With his body so close to hers she could marvel at the difference in their size. It had taken Jack a lot of hard work to end up this big. He loved food as much as she loved to make it.

“Do you want to make a thing of this?” Jack asked, turning on his side. They would have been chest to chest if his belly hadn’t gotten in the way. Carys liked it better like this anyhow. She could curl her legs up under the overhang of his squished stomach and encompass him with her arms. Jack’s pillowy chest made an excellent headrest.

“Well what do you call this?” Carys asked, planting a kiss on the slope of his chest.

“I meant a more serious thing.”

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jack?”

“Something like that,” he said, radiating with the confidence that had come from their day together. “We don’t have to make it official,” Jack added. “But I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

Carys smiled, scooting up to kiss his forehead and fully enjoying the rush of feeling that spread through her insides as their stomachs glided together. “I would like that.”
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Old 07-06-2015, 09:00 AM   #11
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Chapter Eleven

Eleven months later and Carys had all but moved into Jack’s bedroom. They could have easily fit both of their belongings into hers, but with Jack’s seniority at the farm his room was just a tad bit larger. Also, Carys had found delightfully, his bedroom had excellent lighting. Jack stood now, completely undressed, by the window. Even with the curtains pulled, the light shone through, accenting his lush body with highlights and shadows.

Eleven months since the start of their relationship and Jack’s confidence had grown, as had his waistline. An inch or two here, tighter clothes there, Carys made no effort to hide the way his changing shape made her feel. Jack had been doubtful at first, but eventually he’d come around. “People are unique, and complex, and downright weird sometimes,” Carys had explained. “You shouldn’t worry too much what you look like. Someone, somewhere is into what you’ve got to offer.”

Carys enjoyed his body just as much now as she ever had. It was a garden in itself and Carys tended carefully to it, slipping him little treats whenever possible, making meals just for the two of them, supporting him in whatever ways she could. They had chemistry and they had purpose. Jack worked in the garden, bringing her fresh produce almost daily during the harvest season and she would work magic with whatever he brought in. This was what Carys had always dreamed of: a big, hunk of a man working alongside her, the two of them working together, and together working alongside the earth.

Eleven months had passed quickly. Carys had hardly noticed when her contract at the farm was nearing it’s conclusion. She wanted to believe she would have the option to stay on as full-time staff. The dream of continuing on at the farm alongside Jack and the friends she had made was her definition of bliss, a little bit like their own patch of heaven in Northern California.

But that wasn’t how it happened. Jack would be staying on the farm for at least another six months, training interns and deciding whether following Carys halfway around the world to another farming community was actually worth it. She was going to miss her afternoons spent with Martha, and those evenings when the older woman allowed Carys to raid her hidden stash of booze. She would miss the ever changing college students as they filtered through her kitchen. Carys caught tidbits of gossip from them, as well as reminders of what it felt like to see the world in such a bright and curious way. Hell, she would even miss telling Rick to “fuck off” every time he tried to convince her she was too attractive for someone who weighed over three hundred pounds.

And Jack. She would miss Jack the most. Their definably undefinable relationship had blossomed into something more concrete in the past eleven months. Just like the crops she sometimes helped him tend to on the farm, it had turned into something sturdy, delicious, beautiful, and far healthier than anything she’d ever been involved in before. They were equals, she and Jack, they respected one another. Which was why, when Martha broke the news to Carys that the farm couldn’t renew her contract for the following year due to budget issues, Jack respected her decision to find work elsewhere. She had aimed to work locally, maybe a few towns over, but when the ecovillage in Wales called her back and offered her a job she couldn’t very well turn them away.

“Just six months,” she reminded him, pulling the sheets up to her chin. This time last year they were strangers, and now he was her everything. “And then you could come join me, if you want to.”

Carys didn’t want to press the issue. Ultimately it was Jack’s choice whether or not to leave the place he had called home for so long, all to follow a girl. He had agreed immediately, offering to apply at the ecovillage without hesitation, but Carys insisted that he wait. Jack had still applied, of course, but had not given the Welsh an answer, asking instead for time to train his replacement at the farm.

“Oh, Carys,” Jack mumbled, a smile hidden just behind his teeth. Carys felt guilty and Jack knew it. Her insecurities were there, just like his, they both had pressure points. She would never be completely okay with Jack leaving the farm if she felt like she forced it upon him.

“You never would have considered leaving if I hadn’t come around. You’d be just like Martha, come here when you’re twenty-five and be carried out in a coffin.”

“Well that’s a little morbid,” Jack scoffed, leaving his picturesque spot by the window. Carys wished he had stayed there a little longer. It was easier to have this conversation from a vantage point where she could take in all his stretch-marked, cellulite ridden, overall round frame.

“You know what I mean, Jack,” she rolled over onto her back and squeezed her eyes shut. The heavy footfalls of her man approaching couldn’t be ignored. He managed to make nearly every floorboard shudder in response to his weight, even the ones that remained silent when she hopped up and down on them (Carys had tested it privately once or twice, to see whether or not it was just her imagination). The young woman resisted the urge to peak as Jack walked towards her, knowing every step would cause his wide pear shape to jiggle. His thighs always had been, and always would be, Carys’ favorite attribute. They were thick and supple, strong enough to carry all that weight, and perfectly proportioned to the rest of his body. Carys knew Jack was always meant to be fat, he was made for it. Underneath the extra padding he carried, his structure was thick and sturdy. It was no wonder Carys had swooned the way she did.

The soon-to-be former cook furiously rubbed the sleepiness away from her eyes. By the time she was finished Jack was lumbering his way into their far-too-small bed and pressed his body into hers. “You’d never leave this place if it wasn’t for me.”

Jack’s arms were around her then, firm but thick. His hands found their way to her lower back, untangling her from the sheets and scooping her in closer until his massive expanse surrounded her. She never felt lost with Jack. In his arms she found home. It made her question ever taking the job in Wales. This was where she belonged. His warmth kept her snug, safe and sound every night they were together. She belonged beside him, where her hands could roam the torso of the man she loved.

They’d grown comfortable with one another. Every freckle that dotted Carys’ nose was familiar to Jack, the slope of her chest, her firm, young breasts, her waist, slender but not too concave, Jack knew her well. Just as she knew him. She knew the fat that had crept in under his upper arms, how it covered the muscles that would have shown there, but made hugging him feel like she was wrapped up with a bear. His chest, softer now even than it had been when they first met, was the place her head rested when she faced him in bed.

She knew his tummy, the ticklish places and to avoid them during sex, unless she wanted him to flail around in a surprisingly unromantic way. There were the parts of him, kept secret just between the two of them, that needed a little extra love. He didn’t find his love-handles to be particularly sexy. No matter how many times Carys tried to convince him that not only were they hot, they were also very practical for lovemaking, Jack still disliked them. “I know they make sense, I mean, I’m a big guy, but do they have to be so large?” He would ask, standing in front of the mirror, twisting and turning to get a better angle at his sides. That was her favorite time to surprise Jack with kisses.

At the end of a long day, one of those days when he had hardly made it through dinner without falling asleep, Carys would pretend to support him back to their room. She’d never be able to handle the full extent of his weight on her shoulders, so Jack carried a good deal of the load. There she would undress him slowly, taking extra care where his belt buckle had pressed angry marks into his swollen tummy.

Oh Jack, her Jack. Carys still laughed when he remembered the month they hardly talked, the way both Martha and Rick had caught her lost, lovesick, and gazing off in Jack’s direction. She reminisced about their trip to town, how Carys had assumed it would end with them never speaking to one another, but had ended in pillow-talk and playful kisses.

Leaning on his side and pressing his belly into her, Jack pried Carys’ hands away from her face. He knew how his body tempted her. It was probably the one way he had to tease her. Without it, Carys could carry on for hours undisturbed. Jack didn’t like to think he was disturbing her from important thoughts, per se, but instead he was giving her a break for fun. Without thinking, she reached up and rubbed his stomach. Starting at his naval, wide and deep, and continuing to his sides, where the fat of Jack’s chest sunk under his arms and met with the thick roll of pudge along his back. The further he leaned on his side the more there was to grab.

“Magnificent Jack,” Carys said with a sigh. “Just look at you. Your mother would not be very happy if she knew I was feeding you like this,” she added in a playful tone, making a clicking sound to reprimand him. “But a big boy like you needs to eat. You’re not much fun when you’re hungry.”

“Mhmm,” Jack agreed, pressing a kiss into Carys’ neck. She held the back of his head, fingers splayed out in his dark, curly hair. “When I get to Wales you’ll have to make up for those six months, you know. I’ll be expecting a full course meal. Better start planning now.”

“Jack,” she said, becoming serious once more.

“Carys,” he repeated, exaggerating her tone. “Carys,” Jack said again, this time a sigh accompanied her name. Carys’ hand remained in his hair as he lifted his head slightly, staring down at those priceless hazel eyes. “I’m going to go. It’s my choice and I’m making it, knowing the consequences, knowing what I’m leaving behind.”

“But what about the farm?”

“You know as well as I do,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It’s not going to be home without you.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” She asked, biting her lower lip.

Jack crawled on top of her, careful not to let his full weight bear down. Her hands instinctively framed either side of his waist. “I,” he began, kissing her cheek, “am,” he kissed the other, “absolutely,” kissing her forehead, “sure of it.”

“Such a romantic,” Carys tisked under her breath.

“You know it,” he said, landing a kiss on her full lips.

-----------

The last sunset they spent together on the farm was brilliant. Carys had seen better, she soon after confessed, but this had been special. She sat in front of Jack, leaning back into his belly and feeling his arms around her. Six months wasn’t so long, she thought to herself, she had gone on for months without knowing Jack and she was plenty happy then. Jack had changed everything, though, and Carys knew being away from him would create an emptiness inside of her she wasn’t entirely sure how to cope with. She had never been this connected to another person.

They were nearly silent as they made love that night. Carys forced herself to remember every movement, knowing she would be without the comfort of his body for half of a year. Every part of him was special.

“You know how I feel about your thighs, right?” She asked as they lay together in bed one last time.

“Not that again,” she could tell Jack was rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious!” Carys batted at his chest. “Do you?”

“Yes, Carys,” he laughed. Fuck, that laugh would be the death of her. It was a wonder no woman had seen Jack as the true treasure that he was before she came around. Carys counted her lucky stars every night, thankful for having found him first.

“I want you to think about that over the next six months.”

“Just that?” Jack asked as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“That and a few other things,” she mused. “Like how much I adore your little belly-”

“Little is an understatement,” he commented under his breath. Carys laughed as she felt him jiggle it with his free hand under the covers.

“And your thick arms, your little back rolls, your kissable chest, your eyes, your sarcasm, your fucking uncontrollably curly hair, your laughter, your stupid jokes,” the list could have gone on for hours. Carys was tempted to continue rattling off attributes of Jack that she loved until the sun rose. “Remember how much I love you.”


The End

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