Sorry for the long delay. I'd like to try to wrap this story up. Thanks for enjoying it!
Part 15
I woke up with a headache to the sound of snoring. At least the room was icy cold, air conditioning working overtime. Soph’s chest rose and fell as she slept on her back, a smile on her lips in between snores. Under the covers her bulk was pronounced. I had the feeling this was going to be a low key day.
I crawled out of bed and made a coffee with the Keurig in the kitchen. As I sipped my coffee in our southwest-chic living room I swiped through our iPad looking for activities for the day. Hiking was out and if it was going to be as hot as yesterday I didn’t know if Sophia would be up for the pool again. Thinking she might like shopping I looked for interesting stores in the area, but quickly zoned out. Finally, I grabbed the resort guide on the coffee table and checked for any daily activities that might be fun. It was similar to the other day with a light athletic session in the morning followed by a jeep tour like the one we went on a few days earlier and a winery tour in the afternoon. Down at the bottom of the page, however, I saw a blurb about the spa and remembered the massage room in our suite.
Perfect.
Twenty minutes later I had arranged for a private in-room massage for Soph with a couple of special options that I was sure were unique to this resort – a skin care treatment and a tasting menu. I also put in the order for breakfast with room service. I started to pick up after our somewhat sloppy evening.
Breakfast came before Sophia woke, but the smell coaxed her out of the bedroom soon enough. She smiled and clapped her hands as she walked over to the table, putting a cloth napkin on her ample lap before taking stock of her meal. 1) Three large croissants soaked in egg and cooked like French toast then smothered in butter with a streusel topping, 2) two halves of a deep fried avocado with sinfully thick and creamy dipping sauce, 3) a small casserole of breakfast poutine with bacon and an over easy egg on top, 4) one of her favorite double cream smoothies, and 5) a small carafe of mimosa for us to share. For my part I had a vegetable omelet which I planned to finish about half of after seeing how big it was.
Sophia started with the mimosa and started to pick at some of the poutine. She was still quiet.
“Do you feel ok this morning? We probably had too much to drink last night.”
“I had too much to eat, too. I feel ok, though. Little hangover.” she said before taking her first bite of the French toast and nearly melting into her chair.
“Well don’t feel like you have to finish it all, we have a fridge. I didn’t know exactly what you wanted so….” I stopped. Her tentative first bites had started to roll downhill into what I suspected might turn into ravenous feasting.
She took bite after bite of French toast, finishing the first croissant and half of the second before moving back to the poutine. Using her knife and fork she sliced open the egg, letting the yolk coat the fries and turning the whole dish golden. She pulled it close to her and ate over the small ceramic dish, yolk and cheese curds dripping back over the fries with every bite. Sip of smoothie, bite of poutine, sip of smoothie, French toast. She drained her glass of mimosa and poured another, catching her breath momentarily. Sophia adjusted the waistband on the pajama shorts I dressed her in last night, letting her belly rest on her lap.
“Slow down,” I whispered. “We have all morning together. No plans until 11. I booked you a massage.”
She paused after taking another sip of her smoothie. “A massage? Really? You’re so sweet! Is it at the spa?” She speared a particularly loaded fry on her fork and greedily scarfed it down.
“No, right here!” I turned to point at the hallway behind me.
“I completely forgot about that!” Her hangover seemed to be well behind her now, she was beaming. “Did you get one for yourself too?” She pulled the plate of fried avocados in front of her, debating how to eat them. Eventually she decided to pick one half up with her hands and dunk it in the sauce, the oil from the avocado swirling in the white dressing. Then she tilted her head back and took a bite. Dip. Bite. Big dip. All gone. She rubbed her belly.
“No I just got one for you. I thought you might like it.”
“I love massages. What kind is it?” Licking her lips she went after the second avocado half.
“What would the regular massage be? Not deep tissue or hot stone. Swedish?” I scanned the table in front of her, amazed that more than half of her breakfast was already gone.
“Mhm, probably Swedish. Could I have a piece of your toast if you’re not going to have it?” Without waiting for an answer she took one of the large slices of buttered sourdough and began to spoon out the last of the avocado dipping sauce. “That sauce is so amazing, I wonder what they call it. Oops, I’m sorry, I should have let you try some!” I shrugged and she used her finger to get the very last drops out. “So did you book a man or a woman?”
“Excuse me?” I said, watching her suck dressing off her finger and chase it down with her smoothie. She laughed at my expression.
“The masseuse. For the massage. A woman or a guy?” Once again she rearranged the plates, pushing the empty avocado plate back and pulling the poutine in front of her.
“Oh! Sorry, I’m…” She was nearly done with the poutine now, just a few forkfuls of fries left leaving behind a ramekin of curds and grease and flecks of bacon in a mélange of egg yolk. “I asked for a woman. I didn’t know if it would be weird to have a guy do it.”
While chewing, she said “Yeah a woman is fine. That’s what I usually ask for. Wouldn’t want to make you jealous,” she said with a wink. With just her French toast left, she started dipping bites in the poutine grease, making a sweet and savory mixture.
I nibbled on my omelet and sipped my mimosa as I watched her eat. She was definitely slowing down, each bite more deliberate than the last. She clearly wasn’t hungry any more, just determined to suck every last decadent morsel of flavor out of her meal. The French toast was gone (and with it every last drop of buttery sugar from the plate and every smear of poutine grease), she tipped up the last sip of her mimosa, and then pushing back from the table, grabbed her smoothie.
She was breathing heavily as she pushed her top up, letting her heavy breasts hold it to show her bare belly. She took long sips of the large smoothie, holding it in her left hand as her right hand rubbed her belly in big circles. Soon enough she had finished the smoothie but continued to rub, panting, chest rising and falling. “****, that was good. I think I need to sit on the couch for a minute, can you help me?”
I walked around the table and put one hand under her armpit, one holding her hand, and helped her to her feet. She continued to rub her belly as I walked her to the couch and eased her down. She adjusted her top and laid her head back, eyes closed and a smile on her face. Maybe it was her posture or the angle, but she looked visibly bigger than the girl I took on the plane with me at the start of the week. Her pajamas were
tight on her, tight on her arms and legs, cutting into her waist. I’ve known pretty much everything about her for almost 10 years, seen her almost every day, and seen her weight go up and down. If this had been a different circumstance I would have said she was 15 lbs heavier than she was the first night of the trip, but it had only been 4 days. I didn’t think that was physically possible.
“Just hold my hand for a minute, Dan. And then you can go and do stuff, ok?”
I sat next to her and held her hand. She was breathing deeply but not gasping like she was a minute ago. Gently, I started to rub her belly. It was tight and round, especially the bulge under her breasts. The bottom was soft, resting on her lap. Her belly button creased into a smile and she had a thick roll on each side of her waist. She smiled.
“I’ll give you a few minutes then bring you something for dessert, ok?” I whispered.
She shook her head but was still smiling. “I don’t think I can, Danny! If I eat any more I won’t be able to lay on my belly for the massage.”
“You’ll be able to, it’s a couple hours away. I want you to have dessert.”
“Ok, but just a little bit. Trying to fit in my clothes when I get back is going to be hard enough.” To emphasize, she pulled her pajama top down which would leave plenty of hanging lower belly showing if she didn’t pull her shorts up.
“Even your new stuff?” I asked, running my hand over the softness of her arm.
“I don’t know, even the new things are a tiny bit tight. Not too tight to wear, but…” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “Bras and panties are tight.”
“Not if you don’t wear them,” I joked. “I’ll buy you new clothes when we get home. Actually, I was thinking we could do a little shopping this afternoon. Souvenirs for the kids and your parents. Maybe something new for you.” I let go of her hand and stood up.
“That could be nice. Let’s see how I feel after the massage. We probably need to get souvenirs at some point at least. What were you going to get me for dessert?”
“There’s more gelato. Strawberry. I’ll clean up and then get you a bite.” I turned around to pick up the breakfast table.
“Could you give me one bite first to try it and then pick up?”
I spun around with a smirk on my face. Her expression was intoxicating.
***
We were both a little anxious waiting for the masseuse. Breakfast was cleaned up. There had been more than a few bites of strawberry gelato. We were both showered and groomed and smelling nice. Sophia tried to dress like she was ready to get undressed: a loose elastic-waist gray skirt that hit her just above the knee and a cropped t shirt that left 3 or 4 inches of tummy chub exposed. For whatever reason she wanted to wear a bra even though I told her she was just going to be taking it off. She said I was being dumb. Her hair was up in a bun. No makeup. She looked amazing. As she paced around the room looking for something to do she wandered back into the kitchen to take a bite of something or other from the dwindling welcome basket of treats.
Finally we heard a knock at the door and I walked over to open it. Sophia’s masseuse was a pretty woman in her early 40’s with a bright smile and well padded curves. She was wearing leggings and a tight t-shirt with the resort logo on the breast.
Was the t-shirt that tight last season? I wondered.
“Mr. and Ms. Davis? I’m here for an 11:00 massage.” She took a step backwards and pulled a rolling cart in front of her.
“You found the right place, I’m Dan and this is Sophia,” I said, holding the door to let the masseuse enter. I couldn’t help but watch the way her body moved as she walked past me – breasts and tummy jiggling, wide thighs crossing each other with every step. She wasn’t as big as Sophia, but she certainly was thick. “Soph will be getting the massage today,” I said, coming back to earth.
“So nice to meet you, Sophia!” She extended her hand to her and have Sophia’s a squeeze. “I’m Monica. Have you had a massage before?” I looked at her cart, loaded with sheets and towels, oils in a warming tray, and then another large tray with a cloche that looked like it came from room service.
Sophia responded, “Yes I’ve had many before. Dan’s bought me plenty of gift certificates for the spa near us.”
“Oh good, well just so you know, he booked you an hour today,” she looked at a clipboard, “and yup, you have the dermal treatment and the snacky snacks.” She patted the room service tray.
Soph tilted her head and looked at me. “Snacky snacks?” I just blushed.
“Oh it was a surprise? Well that’s fun, you’ve got a good one, here.” She gave me a wink, and then took the cloche off the tray. Underneath were a lot of the treats we’ve had from the kitchen over the past few days – frozen bonbons, donuts, some finger sandwiches, a charcuterie with pickles and cheese and meats. “So I’ll just position this where you can snack when you’re on your belly, or I’ll feed you if you’re comfortable with that. Some people like it, some people don’t. I’m going to go get the table set up so you can think about it.”
As the door to the massage room closed, Sophia turned back to me and took a few steps in my direction. “Snacky snacks, huh? When were you going to tell me about those?”
I put my hands on either side of her belly, marveling at how large it had grown. My memory was foggy but I swore it felt bigger than when she was pregnant. A different shape for sure, but bigger. It had been a few hours since her breakfast binge but her belly was still firm. I pushed down her skirt as my hands explored her tummy, revealing her new stretchmarks. “Well I didn’t think you’d mind… you like snacks.” I walked towards her, hands on her hips, guiding her backwards towards the kitchen. I kissed her and then grabbed a chunk of donut she had been grazing on earlier, and popped it in her mouth.
“Oops, starting early it looks like!” Monica had quietly come around the corner and had a towel over her arm. “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, seeing Sophia’s blush. “Did you decide if you wanted to snack by yourself? It looks like you could go either way,” she said with a laugh and smile.
Sophia was soft spoken, but said “That might be nice. You know, to be fed.” She shot me a sideways glance, which I returned with a shrug and a nod.
Monica took a step forward. “Do you want to try? See if you’re comfortable?”
Sophia nodded and I stepped out of the way to let Monica grab the last bite of the glazed donut. Sophia opened her mouth to let Monica feed her the flaky pastry.
“Is that ok, are we comfy?” Monica rubbed her fingers together, shaking off some of the sugar, as Sophia nodded. “Well, it’s all about communication, so just let me know what works for you. I’m easy!” She looked down at Soph’s tummy, a few more inches of flesh exposed now compared with how she looked when Monica arrived. Some of her new, red stretchmarks were peeking out. Monica touched them gently with her fingers.
“Ok, got it, here are some of the stretchmarks we’re going to pay attention to with the dermal. May I?” She eased the waistband of the skirt down and using both hands helped reveal Sophia’s full belly hang. “Ok, not a problem. Some of these look new, maybe? From this week?”
“Well, not completely, but yeah.” Sophia said.
“That’s totally normal, a lot of my clients here stretch out during their stay. This will be very relaxing, though.” She slid Sophia’s skirt back up and smiled at both of us. “So if you need to use the restroom or anything now’s the time, otherwise you can slip on into the massage room and get undressed and under the sheet. You know the drill! I’ll knock. And you,” she said, looking at me, “can hang out or go walk around and your beautiful wife will be done in an hour, stress-free and well fed,” she gave Sophia’s belly a gentle pat, giving it a jelly-like sway from side to side, “and ready for an afternoon adventure. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.” I took Soph’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Have fun, I’ll probably head out, then.”
***
I was still full from breakfast and not in the mood for a before lunch drink at the pool bar so I wandered to the lobby, looking for some inspiration for that afternoon adventure. I walked to the lobby and up to the concierge desk, where a young woman picked up her head to greet me.
“Good morning. I’m in Room 223, and I’m looking for some ideas for an afternoon activity for my wife and myself. I think we’d like to do something outside of the resort. Any suggestions?”
“Sure, I can definitely help with that,” she said cheerfully. “Were you looking for something active? More laid back? Do you like the arts?”
“Well,” I started, thinking about Soph’s activity level after her morning meals, “I think something outdoors would be nice. See the scenery…but probably not a 2 hour hike, you know?”
“Oh, definitely.” She scanned some papers in front of her. “You missed the jeep tour for today but there are private tours I could line up if you were interested in something like that?”
“We did the Jeep tour a few days ago. It was fun but I'm thinking maybe something a little different.”
The concierge clicked her mouse and looked at her computer screen. “Well, here’s an idea…. You said you’re looking for something for you and your wife? Sorry if this is a weird question, and you don’t have to answer, but do you know how much your wife weighs?”
I was taken aback slightly and stammered, “Uh, not exactly.”
The concierge quickly jumped in, “So that’s ok, but do you think she’s under 300 lbs? There are helicopter rides I could get you on for this afternoon. I'm sure you'd have no issue.”
“Oh!” I said. “That might be cool, yeah she’s under 300 lbs.”
She smiled, “Great, just one of those questions you get asked because they have weight limits for the passengers. There are longer trips that go out to the Grand Canyon or some that stay closer to Sedona and tour the red rocks and the area around us. I went on one a few years ago and it was a lot of fun.” I sized her up, wondering if she would still meet the weight requirements.
She made a few calls and we booked a ride later in the afternoon, giving Sophia plenty of time to shower and change. Finally, she wrote down some information on a slip of paper and passed it to me.
“Ok so that’s the address and phone number and everything you need for the tour. I hope you and your wife have a great time, it’s really amazing to see. And you don’t have any questions but just remind your wife that they do need to verify her size before you get on the helicopter. You, know, especially since I booked the tour from here. They check with everyone, so it's really not a big issue," she said trying to make the situation as normal as possible, and then in a lower tone of voice she added, "but they always double check with Desert Promises guests.”
“Ok, that shouldn’t be a problem, right? How do they do that?” I asked, uncertain.
“It’s no big deal, they just have a scale.”