BHM Energetic Expansions ~BHM, ~~WG

Discussion in 'BHM/Both Weight Fiction Archive' started by agouderia, Jan 6, 2015.

  1. Feb 3, 2015 #21

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    VI.

    Alex’s message wasn’t the only one that set his mind and heartbeat racing. After brooding about it all Sunday, he had another one on Monday morning: “Alex – please indicate whether this is still the correct number, you received my message and Friday dinner would be an option for you?”

    “Yes, number is correct, got message, need to check a few things at office to see if Friday possible” he answered, trying to play for time.

    “Of course. Please get back to me latest on Thursday morning so I can shop and prepare with best ingredients” came as response, buying him three days. He had trouble forming any opinion regarding this invitation. Why was she doing that? They were no longer colleagues, and he doubted she was that interested in the further development at FuturePowers given her much bigger and more important new employer. Sure – she seemed to honestly like to cook and bake – and he obviously liked to eat, currently more than ever – but was that a reason to offer to cook him dinner? Something as personal as have him over in her own home? He also wasn’t certain if he wanted her to do something that personal for him – was it more than another opportunity of embarrassing himself further in her regal presence. On the other hand, a home-made dinner from someone with her culinary talents wasn’t to be disregarded lightly – and it probably was no more than a friendly gesture. He’d think about it until Thursday.

    After his Monday lunch break, his personal email inbox contained another big surprise: Gilles Lebosquet from EDF’s strategy task force reminded him of their meeting in Rennes and asked whether he might be interested in working on establishing at new EDF subsidiary to better develop decentralized power generation and smaller scale grids.

    On arriving home, there was a bombshell in the shape of a letter from his grandmother in his mailbox, making him shudder. Zoe had surely tattled and the whole family was in uproar. Yet he had been surprised that so far neither his mother nor Melina had tried to upbraid him any more than usual. Grandma Elli – short for Eleftheria, supposedly meaning freedom in Greek- mostly talked to him on the phone, wasn’t into emails, so her writing a conventional letter was a statement. It was handwritten with the funny beta, delta and lambda she still used after so many years.
    “I don’t ever want you to doubt that we love you no matter what. I’ve always been very proud of you, what a smart, hard-working and kind man you are. If you decide to go down a road that is against the mainstream, it’s your life and your decision. Even if I don’t agree with your path, you will always have my unconditional support. You’re my only grandson – it would be the cruelest punishment to have to spend the rest of my life without seeing you regularly. Please come home for Easter.”

    This made him swallow very hard several times to get a grip on his emotions, a mix of guilt and gratitude tearing at him. Over the next few days he wrote and re-wrote a letter to her, thanking her and trying to explain at least of bit of what was driving him. Ignoring her Easter question, he bought her the English translation of a very good French guidebook of mainland Greece and repeated his once stated offer to go visit with her.


    On Wednesday afternoon everybody was in a meeting with a potential Spanish partner, so he had time on his hands to revisit Gilles Lebosquet’s email and on a spur of a moment writing him how interested he was in the project of a new decentralized EDF subsidiary and that it would be a pleasure to be kept up to date on the project.

    Joining Hannah for a Democrats Abroad meeting in the early evening, he decided he would decline Alex’s crazy invitation – who knew if she hadn’t invited some other posh people who would look down their noses on his fat non-refined self. Their meeting was rather boring checking all logistic details for the upcoming annual European conference. Afterwards he wanted to join the other guys for a burger dinner, but Hannah held him back: “Max texted – Carolina is doing very poorly. Her fever is up and she hasn’t slept all day – could you maybe please come with me and try to help?” she looked up at him imploringly.

    “Don’t know whether I’m any good as an actual nurse – but I can give it a try,” feeling obliged by Hannah’s tired and worried expression.

    Baby and Max both looked terrible as they arrived; she was purple in the face from screaming and he was an exhausted mess, as she had vomited on him. Picking Carolina up from out of her crib, she was startled into quiet for a few seconds before continuing to wail. “Okay, no magic touch from Uncle Alex,” he sighed, walking up and down cradling her, noticing how hot the poor thing was. Having written to his grandmother brought back the memory of a similar situation he had experienced as a little boy with baby Zoe.

    “Hannah, can you wet 2 handkerchiefs with very cold water plus a cold wet washcloth?”

    “Of course - just a minute.”

    As he got them, he tied the handkerchiefs around her little wrists and pressed the cool washcloth into the back and on the sides of her neck, indeed making her crying quieter. “Maybe also some plain cool, not cold water in her bottle?”
    “She hasn’t been drinking at all,” Max seemed doubtful, but did so nonetheless.

    “I’ll try. Also – put a large linen pillow case into the freezer, please.”

    Over time he got her to calm down on the cool pillow case he draped over his belly, with the help of the wet wash cloth to drink a little water, dribbling some of her medicine in her mouth as Hannah gave it to him. It took over three hours though for her to fall asleep fast enough to put her to bed; before that she’d start crying anytime Max lifted her up from his belly.

    “And who said he wasn’t a hyper qualified nurse? You have a new career option there ….” Hannah hugged him gratefully. “Can I at least fix you some dinner?”

    “I just remembered what my grandmother did with my little sister. Also I doubt all babies have as crazy preferences as your little one seems to,” he yawned, recoiling a bit at her allusion to his ‘career’. “Sorry Hannah, I’m wiped. More tired than hungry – I’ll be heading to my own bed…” as it was past midnight.


    Worn out, he overslept and was woken the next morning by his phone trilling with a new message: “Am standing in front of excellent looking roast beef cut. Shall I buy it?”

    His stomach was achingly empty and he was half nauseous with hunger, so he truthfully answered: “Am starving, very much looking forward to it.” Since he was so late, he had to skip breakfast, even took a cab to the office to be on time, not give anybody the chance to complain about his work ethic. So it was not until after a big lunch – not in the cafeteria, but at the small Indonesian family eatery around the corner to do full justice to their good lunch buffet – did he realize that he had actually committed to dinner with Alex tomorrow night. Starting a 24 hour agonizing marathon of how to get out of the commitment again – and since that was impossible save for the end of the world, of what to bring along as gift and how to avoid any further embarrassment.


    The anti-embarrassment deities were not on his side. After he was quite pleased with himself for buying a magnum bottle of brut imperial champagne – imperial had to be fitting for a countess – during his Friday lunch break, on returning to the office, he sat down at his desk to hear his chair disintegrate under him with a loud crack. The spider foot broke into three pieces and luckily he had taken off the narrow armrests months ago, so he managed to steady himself on his desk and stand back up unscathed but mortified. Not that this was really a surprise – ever since the necessity had arisen to remove the armrests to have enough room for his bulk, he had been anticipating this situation. Occasionally he had wondered whether he should ask for a new sturdier chair, but had always shied away from it to evade the inevitable weight discussion. Now he had no choice, because trying to mend the damage and continue using the chair at his weight, maybe falling, could be downright dangerous – with potentially even worse consequences than more humiliation. It was just today he needed to feel like his most competent self, not like the fattest loser.

    Before leaving, he went down to Eric, the unassuming IT administrator who also sometimes took care of other office supply questions.
    “Ummm, Eric – sorry to bother, would you also be in charge of things like furniture orders?”

    “Yeah, I can do that. What’s your problem – your chair broke?”

    Although the question came matter of fact-ly with an understanding grin, his cheeks flushed with shame until his face was about to disintegrate.
    “That was a tough chair. They officially only go to 110 kilograms – I’ve been waiting for it to crash for a while. Every time I see you, this one here is bigger,” giving his belly a backhanded pat.

    “Yeah …. Well ….. what can you offer?” he did not know what to say in such an undignified situation, although he sensed Eric was not being judgmental.

    “This is the catalogue from our office supplier – here are the heavy duty chairs. You need one over 150 kilograms?” letting him nod in resignation. “This one here should be good; I saw it when I had to find a new one for Polly.”

    “Polly? But she’s tiny!” Right now he assumed that he amounted to a good three Pollys.

    “Yeah – but she’s reckless with chairs. She scoots around across the office on them all day, wears out the wheels. You’re more like the gentle elephant with your chair. Here’s the voucher, this is the address of the shop – go pick it out today, then it’ll be here on Monday and nobody will notice.”


    It was raining heavily as he got off bus 90 in Wassenaar-Eikenhorst where Alex lived in a very leafy, quiet dead end street bordering on the woods and fields with their ditches and small canals. Trudging along, the only thought looping through his mind was that this was the worst idea he had ever had. If he hadn’t been so famished yesterday morning, he would never have fallen for the texted roast beef fata morgana.

    His visit to their office supplier had been okay, but not exactly a confidence booster. The competent elderly sales woman had been very considerate but the measuring and testing with the decision to give him a chair 2 grades stronger than Eric had chosen did not exactly make him feel better. While showering and changing at home he watched the weekly Dutch language learning news show which among others featured a report on the King and Queen opening a new exhibition at the Delft ceramic museum with a period music concert. A camera drive across the audience clearly showed Alex sitting in the second row in a blue dress, with an attentive look. Great – so this would be Mr. Too-fat-for-any-normal-chair visiting the sophisticated Lady of the royal court.

    He was breathing heavily as he reached the address she had given, his feet and ankles were wet, the belt buckle was digging painfully into his soft underbelly and he felt as low as can be as he rang the bell of the pretty, white cottage style house.

    “Oh – you should’ve called – I would’ve picked you up from the bus in this awful rain! You poor thing walked the whole long stretch from the bus stop!” Alex took his umbrella, and once more cheek kissed him in greeting, firmly pressing against his fat ones. “Come in – I hope this is comfy enough to make up for the dreadful weather.”

    Entering the living room, he acknowledged his own folly – he hadn’t really developed an image in his head of what her home might look like. Only vague slightly paranoid notions of a cold intimidating castle, a skewed mix of Dracula’s dungeon and Barbie’s villa had lurked in his mind; both total nonsense. This was a nice, normal, tastefully cozy mix of a few obviously valuable antiques, some modern designer pieces and common sense stuff like IKEA book selves, combing glass, leather, lighter woods and shades of dove color.

    “I lit a fire in this wet cold,” she motioned him to a broad easy chair which looked reassuringly sturdy next to the fireplace and pushed a little table full of hors d’oeuvres and a champagne bottle next to it. “Also – I already had this champagne on ice. So we can save your great bottle for our hopefully next dinner, okay? Great choice – I love Moet&Chandon’s Pinot Noir Brut Imperial.”

    “This is perfect – fire and everything. Just what I need – thank you. It smells delicious, by the way,” and he meant it, smiling up at her in relief. She also looked reassuringly normal, in a jeans mini-skirt with ballerina flats bringing out her great legs, a long, low cut flowing top in other shades of blue and her hair gathered up with a simple grip.

    “I hope it will also taste that way. Please excuse my being in a casual cooking outfit – but I thought content was more important than form in this case.”

    “Don’t forget I’m an engineer, styling is mostly lost on me,” he grinned to try to keep the mood light and took off his tie slipping it into his coat pocket. “Knowing your baking I have true faith in the content, alone judging by those wonderful smells.”

    “That comes as a surprise – you’re willing to trust me?” she teased, uncomfortably reminding him of his trusting stupidity regarding his work contract. “So far you only know my baking.”

    “Well – but anybody who bakes so well can also cook…”

    “Not necessarily. My sister-in-law for instance is a most gifted baker, especially of very elaborate gateaux – better than I am admittedly. Yet her cooking is bland, uninspired and often goes wrong.”

    “Now you tell me ….,” watching her pour the champagne and then clink glasses.

    “Here’s to a tasty meal – and hopefully more to come,” giving him a wink. “Rest assured though, I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t sure that I’m able to cook a dinner worthy of your appetite.”

    He sighed and reddened. “Yeah …. I have too much appetite for my own good ….”

    “I think I’ve stated this at least once before – I firmly believe a big appetite is an asset in a man. Nothing is worse than a diet and body obsessed guy. That’s a shocking, almost anti-natural trend,” her voice sounded firm and convinced. “You would definitely not have been invited to a home cooked dinner here if you were some calorie counting beanpole.”

    A fleeting look in her eyes calmed him a bit; she really didn’t look like she was making fun of him. “Umm … thank you … I guess….”

    “It’s high time we finally start taking care of your appetite though …. These are the hors d’oeuvres: stuffed pointed pepper, rosemary ham rolls on potato rösti, mini grilled vegetable kebabs with a yoghurt dip, salmon and trout picks and …. save these for last please home - baked cheese puffs,” which indeed looked funny as they seemed to be wearing something that looked like a crown.

    “Wow – I’m overwhelmed …. if these are only the hors d’oeuvres….” as she handed him a plate with two of each on it, taking one for herself. To get her to talk more and while he enjoyed the treats, he asked: “How was your concert last weekend?”

    A bright smile – probably for remembering the detail, not knowing how recently he had been reminded of it – thanked him along with a lively description of the new exhibition, the music, Delft as such. Only omitting that it was an inauguration by their majesties.

    “These appetizers are excellent – if they’re any indication as to the rest of your meal, I fear I will run of out superlatives pretty soon,” he bit into the cheese puff, the rolled up piece of decorative paper popping out. It looked like a menu.

    “Why thank you – but don’t praise the content until you’ve fully tasted it. As you can see as menu I chose something wintery – a Riesling cream of herbs soup, a winter salad with prawn skewer, Polenta parmesan patties with mushrooms Italian style, a backed filet Wellington with 3 winter vegetables and a small surprise mix for dessert. Is that okay?”

    “Sounds mouth-watering. I especially appreciate you’re having a hearty Italian style first course…,” he remembered his dinners in France. As tasty as the dainty fish courses had always been, they’d often been very light and not gratifyingly filling in the winter.

    Alex grinned. “That’s what I thought. I have three brothers at home – I know men deep down prefer soul food to light nouvelle cuisine fish chi-chi. So – shall we move to the table?”

    Her chairs were sturdy wooden constructions leather upholstered so he settled on the one she motioned to him, quickly re-buttoning his sports coat over the flesh globe in his lap.

    The first spoonful of soup was a wave of divine flavor, creamy wine with herbs and crisp croutons, he let out a blissful moan: “This – this is the best soup I’ve ever eaten. Seriously. If I ever have to drown, please drown me in it.”

    “Maybe I need to start looking for a pot that’s big enough for that … it won’t be so easy,” she smirked refilling his plate.

    The salad with the prawns and the polenta patties were also marvelous and he took seconds of everything, feeling the tonic of food warmth dissolve his unease. This was nothing but a fabulous dinner with a very kind hostess, as she gestured to take his coat seeing he was getting too warm from eating. For an instant this made a flash of embarrassment return, but his coat didn’t conceal much of his 4XL size, so why worry about the little he had left to lose?

    “Some more salsifies?”

    “A very small spoonful – I’m getting really full. Thank you for introducing me to them though. They’re wonderful with a filet and a possible new favorite - how did you say - winter vegetable.”

    “I love them too – my great-aunt always made them with this lemon sauce. It’s good they’re getting more popular again. But I must say I’m almost a little disappointed you only took thirds of the soup …,” she winked at him.

    “Even I have my limits, believe it or not. What is the dessert surprise?” Having reached his well-filled dinner contentment level, he was honestly enjoying himself, the conversation flowing easily about food, places visited in the US and Europe, and his rekindled interest in photography.
     
  2. Feb 3, 2015 #22

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    VI.a.

    “Espresso time is couch time?” she indicated back over to the living room section after the great tangy mulled wine jelly with vanilla custard, making him nod and carefully heave himself up and move over. The meal had been outstanding, leaving him in that perfectly stuffed state, his gut bloated to a dome, the minor ache in his flanks signaling utter satisfaction – but not so full that it truly hurt or had an indigestive quality. Leaning back on the wide leather couch, he loosened his belt buckle once more, not that it helped, it was the waistband itself that cut into him.

    Alexandra set a silver tray with espresso and chocolate tidbits in front of him and looking up his eyes went big. She hadn’t changed, only literally let down her hair. It tumbled over her shoulders in soft waves to where her extremely noteworthy cleavage began. Her feet were in navy patent high heels, stretching her long legs to porn quality, especially as they were topped by the sexy lace band of those hold-up stockings. These were visible since she must have taken off her jeans skirt leaving only her long float-y blouse which barely skimmed past her hips.

    “This is more comfortable on the couch than the tight skirt – I hope you don’t mind?”

    “Oh no, no – you look great…..”

    “Here’s your espresso and a chocolate Madeleine, I think you really liked those….,” she scooted next to him, tucking one foot under herself to face him sideways.

    “Mmmh … yeah, these Madeleines were great …. Do you also have some with the caramel?” although this sounded a bit shameless to his ears.

    “No – only chocolate is the theme today. Next time certainly. Try one of these liquor cherries dipped in chocolate….,” she put it to his lips, licking her finger tips afterwards and looking at him from under hooded eyes.

    “Wow … another burst of flavor….” he finished his espresso, set down the cup and started to feel her hand firmly caressing his belly dome.

    “I can’t believe how beautifully round you’ve gotten….,” she whispered, running her hand from side to side and then up and down, pressing into where the big role of fat folded over his beltline. “So luscious and abundant…..”

    Automatically he went rigid and tried to suck in his gut, only to realize it was futile. It was way too big and full – and her hands seemed to know exactly what they were doing, stroking the stretched upper lateral curve, rubbing the dense flabbiness of his underbelly and squeezing where the blubber blended into rolls on his side. A warm numbing motional inability spread through him, this could go on forever. Since the day Hannah had kindly stroked his belly in the too small parka incident, the physical yearning for a female touch on his body had come back -this was totally what he had craved.

    “You were so slight after dieting your second year here …. It was awful to see you wasting away from you chubby cuteness…,” she murmured, pressing her hand into the side of his belly, an electric jolt reaching his privates. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you in Scheveningen last weekend, such a gorgeous expansion – and I missed most of it. Hmmmh ….. so massively soft…”

    She must be much drunker than he had realized so far, as her fingers started to playfully fondle his double-chin. Okay they had gone through a bottle of champagne, a bottle of Riesling and almost a bottle of Burgundy – although he had assumed three quarters had been on him. Most people got nasty when they were drunk, so he wasn’t going to complain that she went the opposite direction in being absurdly, unrealistically nice. To show his appreciation, he wrapped one arm around her, his hand resting on the broad lace band on her smooth thigh, immediate tingles starting to race through him. With his other hand he pulled hers to his lips to give it a small reverent kiss.

    From under her lashes she eyed him and reached to the tray and took a chocolate Madeleine and half bit into it, reaching up and pressing the other half against his lips. If someone pushed delicious chocolate into his mouth, what was he supposed to do except bite into it? After the chocolate her lips were on his, plump, nibbling away – there was no other option than to dig into them, their chocolate coated tongues intertwining urgently. In the same move, her hands dug deeper under his belly and the constricting waistband gave way and his fat pushed freely out into his lap. Not that she seemed to mind, her lips became more insistent as she straddled one of his thighs and her cool fingers were suddenly on his naked skin, clawing under his shirt.

    This should be the time to stop, sit up, carefully untangle himself from her to avoid potential further embarrassment – but that was impossible. Any willpower to resist sensual pleasures when he was so wonderfully overfed must have gone downstream dozens of pounds ago – all he could think of was that his erotic hunger needed satisfaction too. Having channeled all his physical lust into food the past 12 months, he was rather desperate by now for the sins of the flesh, literally as there was so much more flesh that needed sinful attention. Alex must have intuitively understood that, for she had unbuttoned his shirt, pulled up his t-shirt and her pointed tongue played over the stretched skin of his gut before his nipples were sucked hard. If she was for no matter which reasons willing to offer a full course evening menu – why should he have doubts? They were no longer colleagues, he was as unattached as can be, there was nothing wrong with fully enjoying the moment….

    Running his hands up from her smooth thighs over her hips, following their curve along the waist to her breasts, tracing the form of the female archetype let the last shred of restraint evaporate. He shoved her top over her head to have magnificent, real looking D-cup breasts right in front of him, his mouth only needed to plunge in. She arched up and pressed her pelvic bone hard against his thigh, shaking his love handles in a firm grip, ripples of flab lolling through his torso, fueling his arousal. In his arms, he noted with satisfaction that she was gratifyingly more substantial than he had perceived. Her long legs and relatively narrow hips with her height in well tailored cloths created the illusion of willowy-ness, for she not only had those actually heavy breasts, but also some tummy pudge.

    In vain she tried to slide into his lap, but his belly fat refused to give up room, so she rose and started pulling him up: “We need more space….,” leading him into the hall pulling down his pants and going down on her knees to help him out of them. “Such a massively sexy ass …. Ouuh,” with a light hand she spanked it and grabbed one love handle, continuously palpitating all his wobbling blubber. His erection ached by now and he pushed her against the door frame with his gut, rubbing himself against her hip and kissing her voraciously.

    Her bed thankfully was an oversized queen with a pile of comfortable pillows on which she settled him before leaning into his belly and making it move with her body. Flesh on so much more flesh, every part of his body at least in micro-motions let waves of lust wash over him as he let Alex take over, push him further and further until he was a sweating, pant heap, begging for more wanton fulfillment, all sense of time and situation lost.



    Reclining against the elaborate headrest, he exhaled deeply until the flab covering the dome of his stomach quivered. Nevertheless his belly maintained the puffed out sphere, testimony to how much of the delicious breakfast cart he had demolished, that vast pillow of flesh his overeating had built up tangibly weighing down on his frame. The good 100 pounds he had added did make a profound change in how his body felt, reacted and needed to be handled. Last night had brought this as a full on realization, although a painfully lusty one.

    With his ‘normal’ weight of somewhere between 240-270 pounds, he had been oblivious to his body. It had just been there, functioning on a subconscious level. He had never felt much of a difference with more or less weight – except that some tighter cloths fit better. It had always made him wonder what people were talking about when they told him: “Oh – you must feel so much better now that you’ve lost some weight.” The only feeling he had had then was that he was hungrier. How he perceived his body or its weight hadn’t change one iota. From his perspective it also couldn’t have been so different from that of the slimmer guys. Sure, the really fit ones had always outrun him or done better at pull-ups. But he had been able to keep up with the average guys alright, so the fuss about his weight had come across as overblown.

    Now there was a marked physical difference and he had subconsciously been noticing it since his Christmas vacation during which he had crossed the 150 kilogram mark. It was not only that his expanded body needed more space and sturdy holds, causing him to automatically scan seating arrangements and the like to gauge whether he could not only fit his fat ass in, but also whether they were stable enough to hold him. Going about his daily routines, his girth constantly brought itself to the borderline of conscious awareness by its extension, weight, mass and movement. When he stood, he needed to plant his feet further apart to have secure footing for his load and not have his flabby thighs press together uncomfortably. Having to take a step back from the counter, sink or desk for his belly to have enough room and not bump into something. Any movement he made led to his flesh vibrating, wobbling, rolling, squishing or even swaying when some speed was involved. Sitting down meant that his excessive padding spread out, belly and thigh fat negotiating for space, his thick side rolls stacking themselves into position. Reaching over and around or bending down with his massive paunch was always at least a small challenge. At the end of a day of letting his taste buds and oral impulses reign supreme any more than 45° slant was out of the question. Yet at that point he mostly cared less – instead concentrated on savoring the afterglow of pleasurable gorging. Not so different from the immediate situation.

    Getting going required more strength to gain the momentum that would set his mass in motion. It had crept up unnoticed, but having to move so much more weight had slowed him down considerably. His walk to the tram in the morning to go to the office had always taken 14 minutes, now he needed almost 20 to get there on time in a cool, comfortable state. The whole stretch by bike had been 20 minutes, now a good 25. Personal energy efficiency became an issue, as he did better planning of chores, went about everything more methodically to not get out of breath too quickly. Living in a county though that traditionally focused on pedestrians and cyclists, his car still being back in the US, he was forced to stay active. New sturdy shoes with good insoles helped – and the heavier, slower pace of his life had the side effect of him turning calmer and more reflective, not the least because he took his necessary time.

    Rubbing the soft flab over his stretched stomach back and forth with two pudgy fingers, it had a truly surreal quality that he was lying here in her bed. His face flushed as flashbacks of how his very heavy body and its undulations had felt during their love making last night and this morning during breakfast. For a fleeting second as Alexandra had started to undress him, he had been horror-struck envisioning the inability to perform any sexual act with 100 pounds more. Fortunately she was even more diplomatically masterful in the bedroom than in real life, had not let a minute of awkwardness arise, steered him through everything while exciting him so much he quickly forgot about any reality. That his body had so much more surface to offer had multiplied erogenous options, and she knew how to generate lust in all of his susceptible flesh. The details were blurred in his memory – only that anything he had experienced with previous girlfriends paled to puppy dog sex in comparison. Obviously he hadn’t done anything wrong, for she had served him that wonderful breakfast and seduced him into action over it again. The images tip-toeing across his inner eye let another erection start slowly pressing against his thigh fat.

    “Aaaugh …. Someone is enjoying his wonderfully soft tummy fat and thinking dirty thoughts,” he had been so absorbed by his weighty day dream he hadn’t noticed Alexandra leaning in the doorway and observing him with a small smile.

    “Ummm..” the speech center in his brain was incapacitated from digestive arousal.

    “Let me join in on the fun…,” she clambered on the bed, opened her bathrobe to show off those great breasts and bent over him, brushing along his belly dome with her hard pointed nipples, before biting carefully into his man boobs, instantly making his manhood begin to throb again.

    Running his hands over her shapely ass cheeks, he pulled her up to kiss her, teasing her deeply. Slowly setting his bulk into motion, he rolled her onto her back and pushed himself half over her, kissing his way down over her breasts and pecking at her tummy, biting in between her thighs murmuring: “Mmmmh ….. Alexandra Frederica Constance Isolde Claudia Beatrix … you are one spectacular countess…. mmmh….”

    With a quick jerk she pulled up his head and stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief: “I can’t believe you remembered all my first names …. and in the correct order….” He couldn’t believe it either, was dumbfounded as to where that might have come from - to save himself an answer he kissed her again. Her hands were once more pummeling, jouncing and squeezing his flab so he let her push him over for both of them to better revel in the agitation of his bulk. Playfully rubbing his hard manhood between her thighs, she suddenly froze and looked aghast.

    “Shit, shit, shit ….,” she jumped up and out of the bed, her breasting swaying wildly as she tried to stuff them into a bra she grabbed. “Mist, mist, mist ….” She rushed into the kitchen and came back, one leg in a panty. “I’m going to miss my flight. I can’t catch the train to Schipol anymore … the kitchen clock stopped. Shit, shit ….. mist, mist,” In a whirlwind she was dressed, pulled a suitcase out of the closet, planted a last kiss on him. “Take the leftovers from the fridge, leave the key at the gatehouse, explanation is next to wireless router. Bye!”

    Before he knew it, she was gone leaving him lying in her bed in the state of an emotional tornado casualty.
     
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  3. Feb 3, 2015 #23

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

    - Actually Very Tame!

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    There is absolutely nothing better than waking up to an amazing update! I glanced at my phone this AM before i put my contacts in...then squinted into it as I devoured all of it (no time to stop for something as trivial as vision!). I love how much delicate description you put into the food, it makes me hungry myself!

    I particularly love how classy yet insistent Alex(andra) was about setting the date and making sure something came from the evening. That man needs to be pinned down and properly adored, both literally and figuratively!
     
  4. Feb 3, 2015 #24

    bayone

    bayone

    bayone

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    "If he hadn’t been so famished yesterday morning, he would never have fallen for the texted roast beef fata morgana. "

    I love this sentence.
     
  5. Feb 3, 2015 #25

    Tad

    Tad

    Tad

    mostly harmless

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    The great white north, eh?
    oh, an update! start reading....

    :wubu:

    :wubu:

    :wubu:

    :wubu:

    :eek: <--that was for the cliff you left us hanging off of!
     
  6. Feb 3, 2015 #26

    Anjula

    Anjula

    Anjula

    the bitchy one

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    Ahhhh it was such a pleasure to read! I love Alexandra character, kinda remind me of myself hahaha can't wait for more!
     
  7. Feb 3, 2015 #27

    searcher

    searcher

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    I love the new chapter.
     
    agouderia likes this.
  8. Feb 5, 2015 #28

    ALS

    ALS

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    I love this story! I look forward to reading more.
     
  9. Feb 10, 2015 #29

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    Thank you, bedankt ALS, Anjula, bayone, searcher, Tad, Xyantha for all the kind words and the enthusiasm!

    Here's the next chapter!
     
  10. Feb 10, 2015 #30

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    VII.


    “Ooouuccch!” Monday morning in the office seamlessly continued the shitty end of Friday afternoon – with aching toes as he had kicked against his new chair to move it into position. Disregarding two things – first that the chair itself was so much heavier than his old one, and second that it had an arrest function so it wouldn’t budge at he tried to shove it.

    Dark, oppressive gloom was conspiring against him right now – and he couldn’t fully understand why. Sure – it had been a major turn off ending for a fabulous dinner with hanky-panky dessert, but he should be mature enough to shrug it off as one of life’s idiosyncrasies. She had allowed him some fun – and that was it. A one-night stand out of the spur of a moment nothing with any deeper meaning.
    Leaving him alone in her bed, where he had lain for quite a while before he managed to persuade himself to get up, dress and leave as quickly as possible. Walking through the wet, quiet green-gray, he finally found the little gate house several hundred yards down the lane where he handed the key to an elder man who looked like a gardener. Who in turn he looked him up and down very critically, frowning at his massive middle. The trudge back to the Rijksweg main road connecting The Hague to Wassenaar seemed endless and he had to wait for almost half an hour in the drizzle before the next bus came. He had hardly covered three-quarters of a seat bench with his ass when his phone chirped another message: “Uff – made it to the gate, boarding mercifully delayed! Am aching sooo bad inside from you…..”

    Staring at the display, the longer he did so, the more it was as if he was being strangled. What had for him been a sensual revelation – for her it had been …. agonizing shit. Nobody had ever spelled out the ugly truth so bluntly on pale yellow background before in his life. What astounded him most was that it came from lady super-diplomatic – who was able to wrap the worst facts in shiny satin ribbons so that they were waved through. If even she couldn’t find some euphemism to describe how unbearably painful his way too heavy body had been. It must have been truly awful if she followed the urge to spell it out, instead of maintaining polite silence about the issue. So there was such a thing as too fat for sex – and he must’ve unbeknownst passed that point. A fall-out of putting on so much weight he hadn’t counted on at all.

    Inwardly he froze, got home in a stupor to take an endless shower before falling on his bed and staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep in the late afternoon. Waking up at 9:30 in the evening with a growling stomach, he ordered his favorite vegetable and cured ham family size pizza, of which he could only eat one third. Washing it down with a whole six pack – in the European 16 ounce version – to once more fall into bed. Sunday, wasn’t much better – he only went out to shop, with something like panic arising at the cash register because he couldn’t stand to be so close to other people.

    This morning things hadn’t improved, the idea of being on a tram with other people freaked him out, so he biked despite the continuous light drizzle. Alex texted him again, asking how his weekend had been – and he dropped the phone flustered as he saw her number. It didn’t get any better throughout his work week; he cooped himself up in his office, avoided joint lunches and worked away on some exploratory material about solar thermal power stations in southern Portugal. With dread he remembered his commitment to chair the energy panel at the Democrats Abroad European annual meeting next weekend in Amsterdam – knowing Hannah, there was no way out of that one.

    The annual meeting starting Friday evening finally succeeded in taking his mind off Alex. It was nice to discuss US and European politics with fellow expats, those who were with his panel and working group were either very well informed – or highly interested in getting as many new perspectives as possible. The people he already knew from previous events showed interesting reactions. Their conventional: “Hi Alex, how are you doing? How has life been treating you…” mostly faded and he could see the shock or disbelief in their stares at his gut. To his surprise, nobody said anything though.

    “Life has been treating me very well, has been most tasty…,” he responded several times with a grin, patting his belly – but still no reaction. Instead a hasty change of subject.

    On Saturday morning he overheard the chair of DA Switzerland interrogating Hannah: “Do you know what’s wrong with Alex? I can’t believe how much weight he’s gained! He’s huge!”

    “Everything is fine with Alex. He’s been enjoying the diversity of European cuisine. Leave him alone.”

    “Something must be wrong. Nobody gets so fat in such a short stretch of time. He always was really chubby – but now he’s morbidly obese.”

    “Leave him alone Pat. It’s none of your business. He’s doing fine.” Hannah turned and came around the corner to see him.

    “Thank you. Do you get a lot of questions like that?”

    “Some. It is nobody’s business but yours.” Her tone told him that was a massive understatement. It made him become aware that Hannah herself had never addressed the issue of his weight again after his confession to Max in Munich. Before that, she had made the occasional teasing or concerned comment – since then – nada. He trusted Max hadn’t tattled, but he must have said something to her to make her drop the issue altogether.

    The experience was interesting though, that people he knew personally would tend to make worried comments about his size, had become more insisting. While casual acquaintances would be shocked into silence, trying to ignore the elephant in the room – when again total strangers would talk about him as if he couldn’t hear, like in the tram.

    His phone rang with a mobile number that looked familiar but he couldn’t place. “Yes?”

    “Alex- it’s Thomas. I have bad news – Polly broke her foot climbing yesterday evening. You have to come along to the exploratory tour of the solar geothermal provider we’re looking into in southern Germany. We leave tomorrow evening with the late flight, I’ll mail you the itinerary. Book yourself a flight, download the files from our server – write down the code please.”

    Looking through what Thomas mailed him on his phone, he shook his head. Four days in Bavaria, based in Munich, visiting all sorts of obscure sights to set up solar parks in combination with geothermal plants. Alone the logistics made little sense to him; the distances seemed too far to remain based in the city. “Hannah – do you think I could talk to Max? I just received word that I need to go to Bavaria next week – and this doesn’t make sense. Can I do the local check with him?”

    Max called him back after looking into the details. “That indeed is total nonsense. You’ll spend hours on the road every day. I talked to Julia – I know you’re also not keen to socialize with your boss. You can stay at their place; get a rental car to join your team during the meetings. A lot cheaper than a hotel in Munich and probably nicer for you.”

    “That’s too generous – I don’t want to be trouble – I can’t accept that…”

    “It’s no trouble; they’re used to all sorts of guests, like you. Julia said to ask you to stay over the next weekend, enjoy a Bavaria mini-break, not only come for work.”

    An incoming text from Alex made him instantly decide to accept the offer: “Am back home now. When can we get together to talk? Please let me know.”

    “Sorry – am in Amsterdam, then heading directly to Munich. Won’t be back until Monday next.”



    The days of his business trip passed drearily in gray fog and dirty snow, with much time wasted on the lengthy commutes between the different sites. He was eternally grateful that he had listened to Max and Julia had been so kind to offer their apartment. Not only was it much cozier and more personal, but after the first day north of Munich in Milbertshofen it saved him almost 2 hours a day on the road since he was much closer to the locations southwest of the city. Plus he had his free time to himself, could re-calculate some of the estimates; sit by the warm oven and get Julia’s great cooking for dinner. Naturally it wasn’t the cheery, relaxed holiday atmosphere, more a busy working week with everybody having limited time, including himself.


    Alone from the fact that their hosts managed to serve them the worst quality Bavarian cooking imaginable for lunch every day totally disqualified them as business partners in his eyes.

    “I appreciate you’re trying to fit in, limit your eating in front of our partners,” Thomas acknowledged after one lunch.

    “I enjoy good food, don’t eat any junk. I never imagined you could get so greasy, tasteless, poorly made versions of Bavarian cooking. Those dumplings were like rubbery concrete,” venting some frustration on the food. “It would be good if we could also discuss this project itself just from the FuturePowers side before we look into more. From what I’ve seen – the concept doesn’t make too much sense. And we don’t even have a realistic chance of becoming legit partners of the profitable part – being the geo-thermal. We’d just be stuck with an overtly complicated solar investment which might even turn out to be a loss bringer.”

    “Alex- you’re constant negativity is not getting us anywhere. Could you please be open and realistic for once?”

    “From my knowledge, I am being realistic. There isn’t one geo-thermal electric plant in Germany which is not run – one-way or the other – by local entities. It’s always the municipalities, counties, sometimes even consortia of local savings unions. It’s a way of using locally available energy to ensure local energy independence. One of the schemes to decentralize energy generation, a move away from big utilities.”

    “Well, changing that should be an interesting and worthwhile endeavor. Please write that down in your report accordingly.”

    “It’s highly unlikely to change that. Such an investment needs land-rights, strong regulatory and public support locally. It absolutely can’t be done against local authorities. And why should they give up an investment opportunity to an outsider they might as well use themselves. But don’t worry, I’ll write 2 reports. One official wording you agree upon – and a background analysis for whoever might be interested.” He stomped off across the street to where he had been an appealing looking bakery – he could use a piece of cake now.


    Thursday evening at the end of the official tour he got back really late, groaning got out of his suit and into jeans to go down for some dinner in Julia’s kitchen.

    “You made it?”

    “Thankfully yes- survived this week. Tomorrow I need to sit down, write up a report …. But I’m very grateful I can do that here, not back in the office. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it that you’re letting me stay.”

    “Anytime – you’re always welcome. Here’s potato soup with fried mushrooms as something warm before a platter of ‘Brotzeit’.

    “Mmmmh – great as always,” he ate two plates of soup and then one of the medium sized pretzels, half with cured ham, half with mountain cheese, washing it down with a liter tankard of beer.

    As he started to clear the kitchen table, Julia who was chopping herbs asked in surprise: “That’s all?”

    “Yeah, was very good – but enough so late in the evening….”

    “Have you gone from Christmas’ excesses to Lent fasting – or some kind of diet?” her intonation was careful.

    “No – just not so hungry …. All this somehow cut my appetite. Can I help you?”

    “Yes, you can grind those mustard grains – I’m preparing a special mustard herb roast, for a real nice dinner on Saturday. It needs to marinate for over a day” she handed him a small marble mortar. As he finished grinding, she eyed him critically. “If you were Max I’d say your love sick….”

    “What?”

    “Max always looked and acted like you do now when he had one of his many heart-aches. Before Hannah he had a major talent to get into awful relationships, or ones where he made the wrong move, or whatever.”

    “Are you one of these bossy, always interfering older sisters?”

    “No – actually I’m the younger one. Max is 16 months older than I am. But we almost grew up like twins. We even went into the save class because Max had been very ill before starting school and was deferred a year while I went early. So – who is she?”

    “No, no one. It’s just work…”

    “I don’t believe you. You guys react differently to work crisis. You actually eat and drink more, not less. Did she dump you – or more that you’re interested and she isn’t?”

    “No – nothing happened. Just a one-night stand.”

    “The bitter way you say that – either you regret that it happened…. or more likely that it’s your heartbreak that it was only a one-night stand…” he stared at her; he hadn’t been aware of the bitterness in his voice. “How long have you known each other before this one night stand?”

    “Ummm… three years. She’s a former colleague…,” he shook himself irritably. “Why am I telling you this? There’s nothing to talk about!”

    Julia set a piece of cheese cake in front of him. “Former colleague is good – as is the longer period of knowing each other. You seem to need to talk – otherwise it wouldn’t be so easy for me to get this information out of you. Talking helps – speaking out loud lets you sort your thoughts and emotions. Why do you think it was only a one night stand? Has she evaded all communication since?”

    “No … actually … she’s been trying to reach me several times….”

    “And you haven't responded?” He nodded with a sigh. “Why haven’t you responded? You obviously want it to be more than a one-night stand….”

    Slowly the light creamy cheese cake with its fine lemon vanilla aroma melted on his tongue. Julia’s questions let very uncomfortable thoughts that must have been brewing in him surface. That maybe he was more into Alex that he cared to admit. How intense his hurt and disappointment was at her reaction to their – it sounded pathetic, but in his mind he had no other word for it – passionate night. That not answering her texts and mails had something to do with evading more potential hurt – even though he could think of little worse. Leaving now would be better, but he sat rooted and finally mumbled: “She’s out of my league…”

    “How can she be out of your league if she’s a former colleague?”

    All this logic she was coming up with was unnerving. He needed empathy to overcome his hurt, not common sense. “She has a very posh background…”

    “You’re academically trained and qualified – if she worked with you in your company that shouldn’t be an issue. It sounds more like an excuse. How did your one night stand happen? After a party? Did you just meet? In consequence of a date? At your house or hers?”

    “Is this the inquisition?”

    “No – only sister Julia’s psychological self-help counseling…,” she winked at him. “You’ll feel better; know what to do once you’ve sorted it out for yourself. So – how did it happen?”

    Not answering was somehow becoming impossible. “At her house – she invited me for dinner…”

    “Aha. That’s a very easy one. If a woman invites a man to her house, cooks him dinner and he ends up in her bed – then she planned it and wanted it. Especially…,” she reached over and rubbed the back of his neck soothingly. “… don’t be angry – with someone as heavy as you are – that’s a conscious decision. And if she keeps trying to get in touch with you afterwards, you must talk to her. Find out where you both stand. You owe that to her – and more, you owe it to yourself.”

    “I’m not interested….”

    “One week no pocket money – that’s what I would say to my kids for such a big lie! Go talk to her, figure out where the common ground is,” she ruffled his hair. “And don’t look at me like that. A roll in the grass..”

    “Roll in the hay..,” he automatically corrected.

    “A roll in the hay might feel good for us both in this moment. But it would be very bad for my marriage – and your friendship with Max. Good night, see you tomorrow for lunch – breakfast will be on the table when you get up.”

    Puzzled, he pushed himself up to notice he did have an erection, arising from the issue at stake and Julia’s lush feminine closeness. How she managed to read the jumble in the recesses of his mind better than he himself was left him consternated.

    They didn’t speak of the topic again for the time he was there, Jo was back, her kids were constantly underfoot so it only accompanied him as a subconscious nagging throughout a sunny late winter weekend, visiting some Bavarian castles and churches he so far had missed out on and relishing the tasty hospitality.

     
    Last edited: Feb 11, 2015
  11. Feb 10, 2015 #31

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    Leaving the office at 6:00 p.m. on Monday evening back in the The Hague, where he had headed directly from the airport, he took a cab home because he didn’t want to haul his luggage on the tram and then bus or hike with it for 20 minutes. Heaving himself out and paying the driver, he was halfway up the walk to the building when a voice called behind him: “Alex – wait a second please!”

    He stopped undecidedly but didn’t turn, so Alex circled around him and blocked his way with a folding box in her hands. “Alex please – I fear we have a major misunderstanding again. Can we talk over dinner? I have coq au vin here in the pot.”

    “Ummm … I’m really tired …. just got back after 10 days on the road….” He couldn’t believe she had intercepted him returning home.

    “A hopefully nice dinner and then some rest will do you good ….”

    Pulling his suitcase he stopped at the door and finally turned to her: “I don’t think so. Some things that are said can’t be taken back. Good-bye.” No matter what Julia had said, he couldn’t get over it, the idea of talking about it was impossible.

    She quickly held the door as he struggled to enter with suitcase and carry on, balancing her box on her knee and was inside with him before he knew it. “Please leave – I want to be alone now.”

    “No – I’m not leaving until I’ve found out what you must’ve totally misunderstood. I never said anything to you that needs to be taken back – or merits you shunning me.”

    He did not know what to do. She was so much more nimble than he was – and using physical force was out of the question. The one and only time his grandmother had ever spanked him had been when he had at the age of 7 pushed and kicked Melina in anger. Reaching his door, he unlocked it, shoved his suitcase in and stood there filling the doorframe so Alex couldn’t pass.

    “Okay – if I cannot give you a satisfactory explanation for whatever, I promise I’ll leave. It was indeed a most unfortunate situation that my kitchen clock was out of order, I got so carried away in making out with you that I forgot time. So I couldn’t properly and politely explain that I had to depart right away to attend a family function in Berlin instead of spending a pleasurable weekend with you. I’ve apologized in writing, I’m apologizing again right here. It was not a high point of my manners – but it should be forgivable. What happened, or what did I do that you’re so incredibly angry and upset?”

    Her apology must’ve been in one of the many texts he had deleted unread. She looked at him openly, the seconds ticking into minutes. Finally he muttered staring at his feet to get it over with: “Hmmh … I had a really good time with you. I know … hmmh … I’ve gotten huge, probably too … heavy. Still - it was …. it came …. was a bit of a shock that you actually wrote how awful it was for you with me….”

    “What did I write that gave you the idea I thought our little tryst was awful?” A brief blink at her expression showed him she looked astounded and almost troubled. But who knew how good an actress she was?

    “Your first text …. you wrote you ached because of me…..” the aftertaste in his mouth of saying it out loud was very bitter.

    She let out a funny little sound which sounded like suppressed laughter, which didn’t make the situation any better and then showed a twisted grin. “That’s the problem – my first text?”

    “Yes – I said it – will you please go now!”

    “Alex – what do you know about the female anatomy and how it functions?”

    Her question caught him completely off guard. Female anatomy? Had he done something so terribly wrong that she had medical problems? Icy fear gripped him. “If it was any medical problem I’ll….”

    This time she laughed outright, reached up and gave him a quick silencing kiss on the lips. “As much as I love how thick you middle has gotten…,” she started palpitating the sides of his gut, “it’s a major challenge how thick you can be up here when it comes to me….,” giving his forehead a small knock with her knuckles. “I was physically great when I left you – don’t worry. To explain more we should go inside -it’s a non-PG discussion and people in the house will understand enough English.”

    Shrugging, he let her in, set her box to set into the kitchen and took off his parka. Facing him again, she continued to expertly fondle his belly, with the effect of some of his tension subsiding and it letting out a hungry growl. “Before we take care of this poor hungry tummy, we do need to set this straight. First of all – if you had an electric circuit which keeps sending impulses – would you believe it’s broken?”

    “No – of course not…”

    “So – why do you believe something is broken with me in reference to you when I keep sending you texts, mails and trying to call you?”

    Feeling as stupid as can be, he shrugged and closed his eyes, leaving only the sensation of her hands warmly caressing his middle.

    “Alex – you force me to be much more direct and blunt with you than I normally am to get any message across. I don’t know why that’s so – and why it still goes so totally wrong,” she sighed. “So – back to my original question again – how do you assume the female anatomy functions – and what can an ache in this context mean?”

    “No idea what you’re referring to….” seemed the safer answer than maybe once more appearing like a dunce.

    “The vagina with all its parts is the center of female lust, a complex structure of delicate nerve endings and muscle. It not only aches from excessive friction, but also gives off a very similar sensation in anticipation of and desire for more. That’s how I felt when I had to leave you alone in my bed and rush to the airport. I was totally high on endorphins from our night and adrenalin from the scare of missing my plane, exhausted from our romp but already missing your big body again, craving more. It’s a bit like the feeling of being stuffed after eating a delicious meal – and still having trouble to stop eating. That was all I tried to express in that admittedly silly text. Explanation convincing and scientific enough?”

    His brain signaled that everything she had said was logic and made total sense, only his inner illogic hurt child was clinging on to the negative fancy he had implanted in his mind. What didn’t help was that he was so hungry, his stomach by now groaning with emptiness. He had had nothing but the bowl of muesli in the morning and the big Emmental pretzel with 2 apples during the entire day.

    “You’re really hungry. If you let me into your kitchen …. I could heat dinner, set the table … and you can shower, relax a bit, unpack…. We can continue talking after eating?” Her voice was soft and halting, so he nodded. Before leaving on Sunday he had been smart enough to vent some frustration on energetically clearing up and throwing things away, that now paid off. After showering he could smell warm chicken and noted gratefully that a plate of snacks - olives, cheese bits, nuts, crackers with dip - which he devoured instantly was waiting on the small hallway table. Before dressing in clean jeans and shirt, for good measure he pulled on fresh sheets and bedding cases on his bed …. in crazy situations it was always better to be prepared….

    “So – I hope I didn’t mess up everything here with the table and your dishes…,” it looked great, with nice napkins he had never seen, 2 salad bowls, a basket of fresh bread with a spread, another bottle of burgundy, this really was home again. Haplessly searching for words, he wrapped her in a tight hug instead, grumbling softly: “Thank you. So sorry … I’m a paranoid idiot….”

    Her hands rubbed his back fat consolingly, giving him soft little kisses on his neck and double-chin. “Eating and overcoming a sugar low is the best initial anti-paranoia measure…”

    It took two pieces of chicken with lots of mushroom sauce and over half a baguette, a double helping of each salad as well as three glasses of Burgundy before something like normality returned, he could look Alex in the eye, contribute to a conversation and slowly start rationalizing the extent of his stupidity. She was smart enough to steer the conversation to neutral territory, asking him about last week’s business in Bavaria – giving him the useful opportunity to discuss his findings and opinions with someone who had personal knowledge to the national market.

    “Apart from the cookies – that’s another time I miss you at FuturePowers,” he grinned at her ruefully over his wine glass. “It’s so incredibly important we finally get a good footing, partnership whatever in Europe’s biggest renewable market. I feel like I’m fighting windmills because we keep looking into so absurd projects – that mostly only want our cash infusion to tide them over. I don’t have your knowledge and credibility to stop the nonsense from the start.”

    “You actually have more knowledge about the actual generation and business details than I do on the German market,” Alex blushed a bit. “All I have to offer is passport and native speaker credibility – which admittedly goes a long way with people like your colleagues at FuturePowers who have no more than a policy background.”

    “Oh – you’re selling yourself short….”

    “No – I’m not. You are. You know much more about the legal, technical and business details of the renewable energy market in Germany than I do – I’m only an HR person working in the industry. How about you starting to believe me when I say something – not always assume the worst?” she grimaced. “Last piece of chicken?”

    “Umm … yeah … why not….” He mindlessly rubbed his gut which was on the nice borderline between well-filled and full. Her eyes followed his hand, until he withdrew it guiltily blushing. “Maybe I shouldn’t….”

    “Yes you should. Would I offer it to you otherwise?”

    Sighing he handed his plate over, instantly doubting the game again.

    “What did you want to say or ask?”

    “Umm …. Nothing…..”

    “You can ask. You looked like you had something important on the tip of your tongue…”

    “You honestly don’t mind…. that I …. umm …. eat so much, have gotten so big?” He couldn’t believe he was asking this, it sounded so childish.

    Placing the filled plate in front of him, she got up, stood behind his chair, embracing him from behind, patting and caressing his belly and pressing her cheek against his softly. “It’s not only that I don’t mind that you’ve gotten so beautifully round. I like it; I like it very much …. actually prefer it to the slimmer Alex you used to be. This big belly, this plump double chin, these thick love handles …. I adore then… remember what I just said about believing me?”

    “Hmmh … but why?”

    “Why I like you so much bigger and rounder?”

    He nodded, which made his fleshy cheek rub against her smooth one, a gentle heat streaming through him.

    “Big, broad, massive, soft and round …. That’s my type, always has been. At home, my father and three brothers, they’re all big guys. When a man holds me, I want substance, fleshiness – that’s what I like …. and what turns me on…,” she was nuzzling his neck. “When you joined us at FuturePowers, got a little chubbier during your first months there – I was smitten. Only colleague wasn’t a good idea – and you were pretty stand-offish. When I saw you again in Scheveningen – trying on those too tight shirts in the big&tall … I almost swooned. I had to get back in touch with this gorgeous Alex-XL version. That’s also why I invited your for dinner right the next Friday, although I knew I had to go off for a week the next morning. I feared that if I waited for 2 weeks, you’d dodge my invitation again. So I did my best to convince you to come – and went all the way during our first private meeting to show you how much I’m into you. Since we’ve already known each other for 3 years it wasn’t too slutty …. Was it? Or was I too slutty for you?”

    At this he had to grin involuntarily and turned in his chair, pulling her against him, pressing his face between her breasts. “No, you weren’t slutty. I actually thought you must be very drunk to be so nice to me…. but slutty – no. With those heels and lace-topped stockings…. best aristo-porn…..” causing her to playfully slap his cheeks.

    “Finish your chicken. Then I have mousse-au-chocolat as dessert. Somehow I had the premonition chocolate coating our talk might help…..”

    After clearing his plate with the chicken, a bowl of rich, dark, creamy chocolate mousse was placed in front of him, the first spoon teasingly pushed between his lips, a moan escaping him since it was so delicious. “Alex- shall we try and see if we can find common ground over the next few weeks? See if there’s something to our friendship – maybe more than a one-night stand? Could you trust me so far?”

    “Mmmh,” he nodded slowly, drowsy with food and wine, worn out from a very long day. “I think I owe you a fair chance ….. Thank you for this great dinner again – I owe you alone for that …. and the other Friday.”

    “It’s okay – I enjoy cooking for you, you’re wonderfully appreciative. Also – that’s something I know from Papa and my brothers: Never try to talk sense to a hungry man, it’s useless.” She patted his belly. “You’re falling asleep at the table; I’ll pack everything up and let you get some rest.”

    Watching her stack dishes in his dishwasher, waving off his offers of assistance and put things back in her folding box, he realized he didn’t want to be alone. Sleepy as he was, he yearned for a cozy snuggle, wanted his full belly cuddled, a little bit of tenderness. As she went to get her coat, he carefully pushed her into his wardrobe with his belly, pinning her against it, leaning in for a small kiss. “Can’t offer you an ache tonight, am too tired – but how about trying a big round belly snuggle?”
     
  12. Feb 10, 2015 #32

    Tad

    Tad

    Tad

    mostly harmless

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    The great white north, eh?
    :) :) :)

    I happened to catch this when the first portion of part vii was posted, but not the second. It left things a little scratchy feeling. Then I saw a second part was up, and the reader in my brain is now all happily relaxed :)

    In other words, thank you for starting to work things out for them!
     
  13. Feb 10, 2015 #33

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

    - Actually Very Tame!

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    i love being belly pinned...those little details make this such a delicious story....and having both of them named alex keeps making me double take and read more closely, which is interesting because i tend to read by sentence the first go through. It forces me to slow down and enjoy each bit!
     
  14. Feb 11, 2015 #34

    Thatfatguy

    Thatfatguy

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    Love this story =)
     
    agouderia likes this.
  15. Feb 11, 2015 #35

    Anjula

    Anjula

    Anjula

    the bitchy one

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    I love both characters so much! thank you for another awesome chapters!
     
  16. Feb 27, 2015 #36

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    VIII.

    The hand tended to be very chilly and instinctively he’d shudder at the cool touch. Slowly it would wander, down the side of his belly, tentatively testing the first fold between the upper and lower roll. The colder the hand was, the more likely it would go all the way down; dig itself under the deep fold of his lower belly until it was warmed. Then it would come alive, drumming fingers of the expanse of his gut, setting the blubber into vibration. Or stroking profoundly from side to side, with light grabs into the flesh, thrilling little prickles spreading from its touch. Kneading a grasped roll all the way from the middle into the side. Sliding down the very sensitive zone on the underside of his belly along his groin, fingers walking into soft inner thigh flab, making his morning hard-on twitch. To switch to a gentle massage along the bottom of his moobs, maybe combined with a nibble of the dimple where his upper arm fat folded. It was impossible to package in words what this intensely pleasant form of waking up, the continuously dreamy emerging from his subconscious meant to him.

    Because it didn’t end there. As soon as he rolled himself over to sit up, work his way out of bed, two hands would be on him, playfully pushing the massive orb of excess poundage spreading before him into position, the dense flab bulge developing at the back of his neck being kissed. When he heaved himself up to move his mass towards the bathroom he could physically feel warm contentment spreading through his body, every single pad of superabundant weight rejoicing from being caressed.

    No other girlfriend of his had ever been able to give him such an unequivocal sense of physical satisfaction and even confidence. There had always been the underlying issue of him losing weight, the need to suck in, make himself smaller, not bring his full physical force to play. With Alexa this was so different, there was always a loving touch on some part of his body, the appreciation it expressed soothing his ego. Before he could think about it, a second portion of a delicious dish would be set before him. In the kitchen, strolling through town, or cozying on the couch, a delectable tidbit might be popped into his mouth. If he had really overeaten, had an achingly stuffed dome of a gut he had to circumspectly move around, he was even rewarded for this naughty overindulgence by a healing and exciting belly massage. Not necessarily good for his already massively deteriorated mechanisms of physical self control. But he relegated that to the back of his brain; determined to enjoy the pampering while it lasted.

    Despite the comfort and companionship he felt in his interactions one-on-one with Alexa as he had started calling her to not suffer from too much self-confusion, he cringed when trying to imagine how their social circles might interact.

    In his case, he didn’t have too many friends and no family here. He also never got enough time to let the question fester in his mind because the situation arose as early as their second weekend together. Leon, the easy going manager of their Dutch branch, had bought a condo and was celebrating house warming with his partner on Friday night. Alexa and he both had prior separate invitations, and since the house was only 15 minutes on foot from his apartment, she automatically said she’d come over and they should walk.

    At the party, the situation proved harmless – nobody seemed to even notice that they came or left together. Alexa had a lot of catching up to do with her former colleagues – fortunately Leon hadn’t invited the disagreeable Polly-vegan-crowd. He played several rounds of poker with Leon’s partner Jan and some of his friends; it was a very normal party evening. Towards the end, with only a few hard core guests sitting in the living room, Alexa settled on the arm rest of the oversized easy chair he sat in and leaned against him.

    “That’s unfair Alex,” Jan scoffed at her. “We over here have the hard, uncomfortable wooden folding chairs and you get the biggest pillow.”

    “No hard bruising wood for me,” Alexa giggled, draping herself bodily over his belly. “Only the finest upholstery please….” Everybody laughed and he had to grin in spite of himself, having her warm weight on him overruled any uneasiness.


    Returning home very late and tipsy, she naturally stayed over making him decide to buy himself a new, bigger, more comfortable bed to be prepared. The next morning they walked hand in hand to the Albert Heijn around the corner to buy fresh ingredients for an extensive brunch. Alexa was weighing pineapples in her hand, as a voiced piped behind him: “Good morning Alex! Papa – Alex ist hier!”

    Josephine, with her usual air of grown up importance, was studying a shopping list. Before he could say or do anything, Max had clapped him on the back: “Where have you been? We thought we’d see you last week after you came back from home!” shaking hands with Alexa: “And who do I have the pleasure to meet?”

    “It’s my pleasure – I’m Alexandra. You must be Max with the wonderful Bavarian family Christmas!”

    “Alexander and Alexandra? Are you serious?” Max had visible trouble to not choke with laughter. Alexa skillfully drew him into elegant small talk, making Max blush and quickly get starry eyed.

    “I’ll let you and Alex catch up a bit – while I collect everything we need,” she politely withdrew after a few minutes, Max letting out a subdued wolf-whistle.
    “Wow, Alex, wow! Who knew you’re such a lady’s man! Where did you find this goddess?”

    “Not goddess – countess! You’re right about the lady part.”

    “Lady? Countess? What do you mean?”

    “Alexandra is a countess. Her passport says, how do you say – Graffin?”

    “Gräfin? Oh wow!”

    “Papa - wer ist eine Gräfin?”

    „Alexandra.“

    „Is Alexandra really a countess? Like a princess?” Josephine’s eyes went shiny, turning to him in English as usual.

    “Umm – yes,” as Alexa returned with milk, eggs and yoghurt to put into their shopping cart.

    “Are you really a countess?” Josephine shyly looked up at her from half behind Max’s back.

    Alexa cast him a stern look but smiled at the little girl and nodded.

    “Have you ever met a princess?” Josephine quizzed Alexa, who patiently answered her many questions.

    “Great – now for a weekend of princess’ talk. You do know that’s the magic word? Little girls these days think everything has to be pink and want to be either princesses or supermodels.” Max groaned sotto voce and rolled his eyes. “Thanks a million!” To then address him directly. “Hannah and I have something we need to talk to you about. Would you possibly be free tomorrow for dinner?”

    He looked at Alexa who naturally gave him an encouraging nod. “Umm – yeah …. I guess….”

    “Are you coming too?” Josephine spared them any further awkward negotiations. “Please say yes!”

    “I don’t know if I’m invited Josephine…,”

    “Of course you are,” Max quickly interjected. “I think Alex and I would get into real trouble with my daughter if you don’t come.”

    “Is there anything I can do? Like bring a salad, starter or dessert?”

    “You should say yes. She’s serious competition for Julia!” He proudly wrapped his arm around her, not being able to resist a small kiss, as she slapped his belly.

    “Dessert would be a good idea then …. That’s not Hannah’s forte..”



    On the way home he had second thoughts, wondering if Alexa was alright with being monopolized by the Bergers like that: “Is it really okay for you to spend tomorrow evening with Max and Hannah? I don’t want to impose anything on you. Let alone coerce you to make a dessert. If they want to talk to me about something – I can go over alone and come right back….”

    “It’s totally fine. I love meeting your friends, especially those you’re so close to, have spent so much time with. And I’ll take any excuse I get to bake a cake on Sunday…”


    With a Key Lime Pie in one hand, they rang the bell at Max and Hannah’s the next evening to be greeted by bedtime mayhem. Although Maurice, normally the main culprit, was nowhere to be seen, Max was arguing with Josephine and Hannah was trying to feed Carolina some unappealing mush. Seeing him, she immediately pushed herself up in her high chair and almost tumbled out, letting him catch her before it was too late and roll her up over his belly to his shoulder, kicking with delight. “Oh Alex – not now, she needs to eat some of her dinner. We’re running late, I haven’t been able to give her a bath yet,” Hannah tried to push another spoon full of mush into baby’s mouth, only for Carolina to shake her head and spit it out all over his sleeve.

    “Papa, I haven’t had dessert yet,” Josephine added to the chaos. “Alexandra brought dessert. May I please, please, please have a piece of her dessert? I can read her my story then about the countess who goes to visit the princess…..” Max rolled his eyes helplessly while Alexa stood there as a poised statue with pie.

    “Hannah – sorry – but I understand baby. I wouldn’t eat that stuff either.” He was tossing Carolina slightly, letting her land on his belly and then slide down before he swooped her up again, crowing with fun. “Wipe off my sleeve, will you please? How about I take care of that bath, you finish dinner in peace and Carolina cutie can have her favorite evening bottle on Uncle Alex’s belly instead? That’ll make her calm down and sleep – promised.”

    “You’re here for dinner not to babysit….”

    “No problem, it’ll be easier for everyone this way. Alexa – you don’t mind doing dessert and bedtime story with Josephine, do you?” taking that decision out of Max’s hands.

    “I’d love too. So – where’s you dessert plate Josephine?” who clapped with glee.

    As he returned to the nursery with a clean and calm baby on his wet shoulder, he overheard Josephine talking to Alexa in her room. “Have you met the King and Queen, Alexandra?”

    “Yes, I have.”

    “How many times? Have you been to their palace?”

    “I don’t know. And yes, I’ve been to the royal palace, here and in Amsterdam.”

    “Why don’t you know how often you’ve seen the King and Queen? Can’t you remember that?” it was clear Josephine had no understanding for forgetting the details of any event of such eminent royal importance.

    “Well – I’ve met the King pretty often, so I never counted.”

    “Ooouuh – so you’re a real lady-in-waiting countess who is with the King and Queen all the time?” her excitement was audible.

    “It’s a bit different Josephine. A modern court today doesn’t have ladies-in-waiting anymore. The King and Queen have personal assistants and the like, who run their office, do event management and public relations. Royal business is like any other public business, only with crown jewels.”

    “So you work for the Queen as an assistant, so you see them all the time?”

    “No, I don’t work at the court. I work for an energy company like Alex does. And I don’t see the King all the time. I’ve seen him regularly though because he is, sort of my cousin.”

    “The King is your cousin? But them you are a princess!”

    “No – I’m a countess. My grandmother, who was a Baroness, and the King’s father, who was a Baron, were brother and sister. My grandmother married a count to become a countess. And her brother married a Queen to become Prince Consort and have a son who was to be King.”

    “That’s awesome! What will my friends say when I tell them I know the King’s cousin?”

    “Josephine – can this please be our secret? So you don’t tell anybody, not even your Mama or Papa what I just told you?”

    “But why? Everybody wants to know the King!”

    “Yes – he is the King; most of what he does is public. But he’s also a cousin for me – so that’s family, and it’s private. I don’t want to have to talk about it to everybody. Do you understand that? You don’t tell all your friends at school everything that happens here at home, with your parents, baby sister or your family in Bavaria – do you?”

    “No. I promise I won’t tell. It’ll be our secret.”


    Wrapping Carolina in a blanket he went back to the living room, sat down in the easy chair next to the dinner table and let the baby stretch herself comfortably in his arm and over his belly. “Hannah, do you have the bottle ready?” he asked quietly.

    “Here it is. You’re so good with her, it’s unbelievable.” She stood there, looking at the contently drinking baby fondly. In the hallway, he heard Max and Alexa chatting away in German before they came to the dinner table.

    “You go ahead and start eating- I’ll catch up with you as soon as baby has fallen fast enough asleep to put her to bed,” opening his mouth for a carrot stick with dip Alexa pushed towards him.

    “Alex – we wanted to wait until after dinner – but maybe this is the better moment.” Hannah’s voice was thick with meaning. “We would like to ask you to do us the honor and agree to be Carolina’s godfather.”

    The words hung in the room until he asked. “Thank you. Why me? What do I need to do?”

    “Look at yourself – that should answer the ‘why’ question. I know nobody outside the family were I am so sure my baby is well taken care of.”

    He hadn’t thought much of going about the usual routine of helping with the kids in front of Alexa – now he felt exposed and insecure, uncomfortable heat rising from his collar, and couldn’t look at her.
    “Umm …. It’s nothing special.”

    “Yes it is – we know and appreciate it very much. That’s why we’re asking. With you, Carolina will always have someone in her life she can turn to for love and support. Also – I have another reason. In case something should happen to Max and me…. we of course hope not, but you never know. We’ve made arrangements that Julia and her family would provide for Josephine, Maurice and Carolina. It’s the best and logical thing to do – they’re wonderful, the rest of the family is close. But it would mean that my children would essentially grow up as Germans, or better Bavarians. There’s nothing wrong with that – but I want them to also have an American perspective in their lives. They’re half American – and you could do that for Carolina.”

    “What about your family?” It came out unthinking, too late realizing he might be hitting a sensitive issue. Because as well as he knew Max’s family by now – he knew nothing about Hannah’s. “Sorry.”

    “Oh – there’s nothing to be sorry about. There just isn’t much. I’m adopted, was an army adoption, as an only child. My adopted mother died when I was 20. My father remarried, retired to Hawaii with his second wife. He’s already 78. He’s a good, kind man, supported me in every way, skypes with Josephine and Maurice weekly. He’ll come over for the christening and the summer. But he’s very far away, won’t be around forever. So I’m asking you to fill the role of the American man for my baby.”

    “It’s an honor, thank you very much,” he muttered, oddly touched. It was a funny feeling to know he was intended to play an official, responsible role for the snoozing bundle on his belly.

    “Carolina’s baptism will take place on Easter Monday in our village church. So we’d like to invite you to come spend Easter with us at home,” Max gave him a warm grin. “It’s not as big a deal as Christmas is in Germany, but it’ll be nice anyway. You’re naturally invited too, as Alex’s significant other,” he told Alexa. “By the way – you’re not Catholic – are you?”

    “No. Presbyterian-Orthodox – but family has never been very church going.”

    “What’s Presbyterian-Orthodox?” Hannah looked intrigued.

    “I was baptized Presbyterian as a baby – and then again Orthodox three years ago because it was a necessary pre-requisite to obtain my Greek passport. My mother and my grandmother both tried to pull us into their denomination – with the result of me and my sisters not becoming religious at all.”

    “Okay- I’ll see how I can explain that to our priest. We already talked to him,
    and he said it was okay to have a non-Catholic become a godparent as he understands we want one of them to be American.”

    Alexa looked at him with unspeakable tenderness and took his left hand in hers, laced their fingers, soft squeezing their pudginess.
     
  17. Feb 27, 2015 #37

    agouderia

    agouderia

    agouderia

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    On the short stretch home, she snuggled against him as close as possible in walking, letting him summon the courage to ask the head pressed against his chest: “When were you going to confess that the King is your cousin?”

    “You eavesdropped on me and Josephine…”

    “Well – I found it odd you told that important fact to a child you just met …. and not to me. After by now several weeks of what I would call intimacy.”

    “I told Josephine because the whole ‘royal’ thing is a genuine issue for her. And I believe in being as honest as possible to children, not betraying their trust. It’s not something I wanted to keep from you – but it’s also not important in the context of our relationship, is it?” she looked at him searchingly.

    “No – not really – you’re right.”

    “Who’s your second cousin?”

    “Umm … no idea! I might have some in Greece, or Australia …. I think my mom has two cousins with kids in Canada, but I’ve never met them.”

    “See – second cousins are rather insignificant.”

    “Umm – but in your case he lives in the same city …. and everybody knows him.”

    “Does that really matter for us as a couple?”

    Although an uncomfortable resentment told him the opposite, he had to concede that from a rational perspective she was right. “No, not really.”

    “Good. I find it much more important for you to meet the direct family first before even considering any more distant cousins – because I have tons of those!” She grabbed a love-handle and squeezed it forcefully as they reached his apartment block. Inside she pressed him against his door: “It’s much more interesting for us as a couple what I found out about you tonight. You’ll be a fantastic father!”

    “Auuwhh – no – that’s nothing….”

    “It’s very special! You’re terrific with the baby – and I can fully understand why Max and Hannah asked you to be godfather. It’s a big honor – and proves what a wonderful man you are….”

    “Uggh – don’t exaggerate. Carolina is a little cutie, but a crazy one all the same. Don’t know why she goes all dotty with me….”

    “She’s an incredibly smart baby. She instinctively understands where she can find the best warm strong protection and comfort. It was utterly adorable to see you with her.” To his surprise she had undone his waistband and was slowing kneading up his belly to his chest. “You know there’s nothing sexier to a woman than a big, strong man who’s good with a baby. It makes all our hormones go haywire – makes me immediately want to have your baby….,” her lips met his with slow force.

    “You want to have a baby?” he couldn’t believe his ears.

    “That’s what my hormones are currently ordering me to do…,” her hands were all over his torso, setting all the excess flesh in motion, making him physically react although his brain went into caution alert. “Woman – you found good man who will provide well for your offspring …. time to make baby with him…..,” getting the giggles as she saw his appalled expression. “Don’t take everything so literally…. I’m just referencing what is physiologically happening in me right now. And it’s all you fault…”


    One of the first thoughts crossing his mind in relief after Max and Hannah’s request had been that he now had a 105% perfect excuse to not fly home to the US for Easter with his family – especially since Latin and orthodox Easter coincided this year. The flip-side of this welcome pretext was that Alexa gently, but insistently started badgering him that since he would be on the way to Southern Germany anyway, that he might spend the first 2 days of the Easter weekend with her family in some small ‘vineyard cottage’ belonging to their estate.

    The idea made him cringe. He was nervous enough with Carolina’s upcoming baptism, all sorts of horror visions of annoyed relatives in incomprehensible Bavarian complaining about a super-obese foreign language illiterate “Ami” becoming godfather spooking through his mind. Topping that off with an introductory meeting to an entire room full of Lords and Ladies, Counts and Countesses beforehand where he was unable to pronounce a single name was too much. No matter how low key Alexa tried to make it sound, he dug in his heels and shook his head, refusing to even consider.

    An unintended experience confirmed his resolve to evade the family meeting for as long as possible – or until Alexa grew tired of his unsophisticated company, rendering any such introductions obsolete.

    Some British acquaintances of her’s were opening a subsidiary of their London gallery in Antwerp with a big crisis photography retrospective and she had an invitation for the opening vernissage. As she showed it to him, he could tell that she wanted to go – and found it rather considerate that she thought of his interests before asking about a type of social event she knew he didn’t care for. The small complimentary pre-catalogue looked quite fascinating, so he agreed: “Are Belgian beer and fries in for me?”

    “Of course – I know a restaurant which has a yummy fish salad to go with it,” she hugged him tightly.


    So they both took Thursday afternoon off, drove to Antwerp, had some sinfully good chocolate cake before Alexa steered him into a dignified looking store. “What do we want here?”

    “This is the best big & tall in Flanders …. To buy you a nice, new, elegant suit for Carolina’s baptism…”

    He rolled his eyes and tried to pull away. “You already bought me the tie and shirt in Paris to match the baby dress. That’ll have to do. I’ll wear my plain charcoal suit.”

    “It’s too drab for a church ceremony in spring. Doesn’t make the most of your stature, I have something different in mind, make you look your best,” she gave him a soft kiss cuddling his belly.

    “It’s going to be embarrassing enough standing in front of the whole church – everybody wondering why this hugely fat American get’s to be godfather. I want to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

    “Alex dear – you sometimes talk such pessimistic nonsense…,” she gave him another kiss. “Do you know what everybody will really think?” lifting his chin to get him to look at her until he shrugged. “You’ll win the hearts of every single female in the church when they see that Carolina not only knows her godfather, but adores him and likes being on his arm,” making him shake his head in irritation. “Wait and see what happens – I bet you a Magnum bottle of pink champagne. It’s been the disaster highlight of every single baptism I’ve been to so far – the moment the godparents, especially the godfather takes the baby. Bawling hell breaks loose and the parents are busy for over half an hour to calm things down again. In your case the christening guests will be treated to the novel sensation of a godfather getting the baptized baby to fall asleep. Everybody will be stunned and fully understand why such a wonderful man was chosen. Our job now is to make sure everybody gets the best correct impression at very first sight.”

    He closed his eyes and sighed, only feeling the comforting rubbing of his gut. “You know you can get me to do anything if you touch me like that…” letting himself be meekly led into the store.

    Alexa addressed a portly senior salesman in Dutch and after an exchange a young, rather flamboyant man took charge of her requests, ushering them into a secluded corner. After critically eying him over, he came with a rack of suits.

    “This one is great, what do you think?” she held a pencil gray single breasted one with a dull sheen to his chin, making him frown reflexively.

    “Oh – you’re Americans! I couldn’t tell from your accent – I thought you were German. Me mum is Irish.” The salesman enthused. “You’re a very lucky lady – found yourself an great looking big bear there.”

    “Lady is correct, lucky I’m not so sure ….,” he growled, feeling indeed a bit like a bear in a trap.

    “Ouch … it’s even grumpy bear….. very sexy….,” he couldn’t believe the salesman had the guts to say something like that to customers. Alexa wrapped her arm around him giving his sides rolls a calming squeeze. “He’s just your regular guy bear, hates trying on cloths. It’s for a special occasion though, in the honor of a darling little lady, so he’ll do his best…”

    From then on he zoned out, did as instructed with trying things on, tried to go as deaf as possible to all comments – because as positive as most of them were, he felt like an object in a bad screwball comedy.

    “Okay- which suit?” Alexa finally asked. “The gray or the navy? I would say both jeans, the dark grey and the dark blue – you need some better fitting jeans, bring out that wonderfully monumental anatomy better,” she blew him a kiss. “And that small pattern shirt is on me. It looks so great with the jeans and the flannel blazer you’re wearing, brings out the bright gray-blue of your eyes…” silencing any more protests with a real kiss.

    Although he liked the navy suit better, he decided on the gray one because Alexa had remarked it was the best for the occasion. Plus it had the advantage of being on sale, costing less than half of the navy one, which to his shock was the equivalent of his 2 week pamper vacation in Italy. This line of thought made him realize that not going back to the US for neither Thanksgiving, nor Christmas nor now Easter was really good for his budget.

    One transatlantic trip with connecting flights and all amounted to the cost of a 2 week full European vacation – or several months of nice weekend trips. Lately with Alexa - despite trying to be very observant, picking up any tab possible – she took care of most of the food shopping and they went places in her car on her company gasoline allowance, his budgeting had gotten even better. So if she cared so much to see him in these jeans, he’d buy them too, since they were the best fitting, most comfortable ones he had ever worn, although he feared they made his ass look like that of a cartoon hippopotamus.

    “You can always come back for the navy suit,” the salesman uncannily mindful of his reactions added. “It’s a new model, so we’ll have it at least for the rest of the season. Shall I quickly iron the shirt – then you can keep it on with the gray jeans?”

    “That’s a lovely idea! It’s perfect with your blazer for this evening. Casual, chic, urban, stylish.” Alexa beamed. “Thank you so much for your excellent input and advice.”

    It took him 3 beers and a tub of crispiest fries with home-made chive mayonnaise before he considered himself normal enough to face humanity again. “Ready to go? Excuse me for a minute to freshen up, please?” making him nod and wave over the waiter to pay, meeting Alexa again in the small entry.

    “Oh wow! You look even more beautiful than five minutes ago!” She had taken off her cozy cardigan to reveal a wrapped dress with a slit up her thigh in a soft dull blue which matched his new shirt. Then, instead of flats those navy patent heals from their first night together which never failed to let very dirty thoughts take over his mind. The smooth, tightly pinned up do now served to high-light a set of also blue and white cameos as earring and pendant, drawing eyes to the elegant curve of her neck and that impressive cleavage. The class her style radiated instinctively intimidated him.

    “Aren’t we a well matched couple?” she smiled at their reflection in the mirror, leaning against him.

    “More like color-coordinated beauty and the beast…,” he muttered turning away, annoyed how uncomfortable the sight of his deep, wide body next to her sleek curves still made him feel.

    “You do remember that the beast was in reality the best, kindest and most handsome prince?” she hugged him until he gruffly nodded.

    Entering the gallery his sense of total inadequacy next to Alexa was heightened. She knew a lot of people, chattered away alternately in 4 languages and introduced him all around to people who stared at him incredulously. This was the flipside of the relaxed physical comfort he experienced with her – he had never felt so inferior to any other girlfriend on a social and intellectual level.

    Gavin, one of the gallery owners, saved him by putting him together with some Lucas guy who worked in energy management for the port of Antwerp. Later they were joined by one of the photographers, an Australian, who had done Deep Water Horizon eco-catastrophe coverage. As the evening wound down, he had to admit it had been rather interesting and indeed not personally compromising in any way.

    Exiting the gallery, a middle-aged woman suddenly flung herself at Alexa to cheek kiss her exuberantly. “Alex, I haven’t seen you for so long! Are you still in The Hague, actually working? You look lovely.”

    “Yes I am; things are fine. May I introduce – Alexander Bartholomon, Isadora Minton-Mallows.”

    “It’s Lady Isadora actually..,” the woman gave him a false grin chattering on. “Alex, you’re too soft-hearted .. still running your charity for the social support of obese men. You’re no longer 18, you finally need to make the most of your title and tiara, do something for the family fortune. You don’t want to work forever, do you? This has to be the fattest specimen you’ve found so far, by the way – makes Viscount Boyd-Kemp look positively svelte.”

    “Isadora dear, it must be difficult to be precise about the details since the baronetcy is of such recent date,” Alexa’s voice was too cool to be good.

    “The correct address is Lady Minton-Mallows, as you are not the daughter of an Earl or higher rank. My family raised me in the firm belief that you must work for your position in life, that status mainly results from merit. This has been our family motto since 1237 – and I do my best to fulfill those expectations. If you will excuse us now, we have a drive back to The Hague. Enjoy the exhibition,” taking his hand and leading him out the door.

    “I’m sorry about that,” was all she said on the walk back to the car, the refrain of ‘running a charity for fatties’ kept ringing in his head. This awful woman had managed to sum up all the discomfiture of his interactions with Alexa of the past weeks in half a spot on sentence. In the eyes of everybody she was with him only out of some sort of pity or misguided helper syndrome. Nobody from her social circles believed that their relationship might be genuine. He didn’t even want to think about potential reactions her immediate family would show.

    “You’re awfully quiet suddenly. You didn’t by chance take any of what Isadora said seriously?” They were already on the ring road overlooking the harbor, flood lit by night looking much more attractive than by day, when Alexa asked. Shifting in his seat, he didn’t say anything, until she squeezed his thigh. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about that nonsense.”

    “Hmmh …. guess she just expressed bluntly what everybody thinks. If you need to correct her on her title ….. I’m totally below your class.”

    “Alex, I only snubbed her into place because she was being a complete asshole. You must know me long enough by now to have noticed I never use the former aristocratic title which is part of my name on my own accord. It’s my family history – no more, but also no less. It doesn’t make me any different from you – with the exception that I can look up in medieval records what some of my ancestors did when Columbus discovered America.” As he didn’t react, she sighed and continued.

    “I’ve been fearing we need to have this talk for a while – but I didn’t want to have it driving through the night on the Dutch-Belgian border. We’re hopefully Alex&Alex in your perception, not some fictional character like the Countess & Alex. First of all, according to German law ever since the end of World War I, meaning for almost 100 years, it’s no longer a title, but part of the last name. Second – my family is what you call ‘apartment aristocracy’ in German, has been for 150 years. We have no property or other major assets. I descend from the younger branch of the family who have had normal professions for generations; my great-grandfather and grandfather were both diplomats. My mother is Miss Abbie Miller from Albany New York where my grandparents both worked for the New York State Assembly. Is that normal enough for you?”

    “You made it sound an awful lot more important and prestigious when you snubbed that Isadora…”

    “Again – I normally never do that. The nasty things she was saying about you brought out the mean Momma Bear in me,” she rubbed his belly with the right hand she took off the wheel. “She’s such a stupid bitch – pardon my language. She’s uneducated, has no A levels, let alone any university degree. She only married well twice. Her husband – she’s his third wife – more or less ‘bought’ his title for some armament supplies he sponsored during the Falkland war. That’s a combination I admittedly have little respect for – on grounds of lack of personal merit. Can you understand that?”

    “Hmmmph… I’ve never had to think about such complicated title issues before,” he grunted.

    “Think of it differently. I know you value qualification and merit highly. My bashing Isadora is not so different from you taking apart Polly’s incompetence in meetings. It has the same root causes. We both want to be judged based on who we are and what we do – not what people believe to see in us for whatever superficial reason. Will you please try to do that with me too?”
     
  18. Feb 27, 2015 #38

    searcher

    searcher

    searcher

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    The whole story is really great and I'm always looking forward to a new chapter. But the first two paragraphs of this chapter are the best
     
  19. Feb 27, 2015 #39

    searcher

    searcher

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    Nearly missed that second post. Really nice. Poor Alexander and his self-conscience.
     
  20. Mar 1, 2015 #40

    ALS

    ALS

    ALS

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    Excellent! I look forward to more.
     

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