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Shifting Gears Part 1 - by Browniestuff (~BHM Eating Romance ~SWG)

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Browniestuff

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~BHM Eating Romance ~SWG

SHIFTING GEARS
by Browniestuff

Sitting in my first Freshman class of the semester I felt my heart beat rapidly in my chest, I just knew that all of the upperclassmen and other students would hear it and know how terrified I was to find myself in my first college seminar. I knew that it would be a lot of work and I was unsure of whether or not I would be able to handle the workload.

I looked around at the other students, unconsciously evaluating them against my personal tastes. Most of the them seemed to fit into the usual categories. There were blonde bimbos wearing tight t-shirts emblazoned with the school name across their perfect plump breasts and falling to completely miss their tiny waists to meet with the top of their hip-hugger short shirts. The guys the girls were all talking to were similar: tall with broad shoulders and shirts meant to show off their well defined muscles that had gotten hem laid more times than they could probably count. There were nerds with big thick glasses reading Orson Scott Card books with plenty of paper and well sharpened pencils lined up perfectly on the small desk top in front of them. Then there were the others. The girls who were probably known as the outcasts of their individual schools and the guys who wished with all their might that they could get laid for the first time. Some of the people seemed to be normal, intelligent people who were there for the same reasons I was: to learn.

I didn’t really feel that I fit into any of the previous groups. I had been raised knowing that until I graduated from college and got a job that school WAS indeed my job and getting an A was always the goal and that less than a B was unacceptable. I had just longer than shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes. My breasts were no larger than the next girl’s and my butt wasn’t huge or small. I had a fair amount of fat spread out on my body, not enough to make me completely undesirable by most standards but enough to keep my from being thought of as a preppy bimbo. Basically I was fairly average. I had had my fair share of boyfriends in the past, most not lasting more than a couple months. None of it seemed to matter. They were just boys hoping to get into my pants or routine niceties that left me bored and listless.

And so I had gone to college single and without any real desire for a relationship. That didn’t stop me from looking boys up and down when they weren’t looking. I planned on getting married some day and having children. After all, I was normal and that is what normal people did. What I didn’t realize was that during the next few weeks something would happen that would make me deviate drastically from the norm that I had found my self so accustomed to.

As I sat there in that first class my eyes kept reverting to the door each time someone new came in. Most of the new arrivals fell into one of the aforementioned groups more or less easily. However, one guy came in that made me pause. At first he easily fit into the second group I mentioned. His hair was bleached by the sun, probably by the numerous games of ultimate Frisbee with a pair of expensive looking sun glassed perched towards the front. His eyes were a pale blue that seemed to search the room in an instant, completely absorbing everything there and understanding it all. The eyes gave me the impression of someone who was extremely intelligent, someone who might not completely be at ease in the role he was playing. This may even be completely unknown to him. He was at least 6 feet tall, but as I was seated about 15 yards away I had a hard time judging that properly. His chest was broad and I could tell that he was in decent shape, if not completely ripped. His shirt was tight, but loose enough to leave something to the imagination. It was not university produced, but seemed to have been bought from a local museum during a recent exhibit featuring several famous paintings that were on tour. His jeans were relatively loose, but not baggy, and were quite worn, not badly, but giving the impression that he had worn them many times and was very comfortable in them. He wore hiking boots that likewise showed a lot of use with scuffs on both toes, possibly from hiking. He carried his book under one tanned arm and a bottle of coke in the other, including an Alexander Dumas novel.

None of this fit any of the groups and my brain slipped gears. I realized I was staring open mouthed at him as he walked towards me, then past me. He hadn’t seemed to notice my lack of manners. He must have sat down and decided that the view from the back of the lecture hall was good because a minute later I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see his blue eyes a couple feet away.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” He asked. His voice has an almost melodious quality that came from deep in his chest.

“N-n-no. It isn’t, help yourself,” I answered. Did I just stammer? I never stammer.

“I never like sitting in the back. It’s so hard to pay attention. Most of the people in the back don’t pay attention and you always end up distracted by their distractions. By the way, my name is James,” he explained.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Lisa and I know exactly what you mean. This seems to be a pretty diverse class, maybe we’ll have some good discussions. I hope we do, I don’t want to be wasting my money,” I laughed.

“Exactly! We’re here to learn right? This isn’t high school, maintaining the same kind of cliques and groups is just pointless. In four years we’re supposed to be able to deal with everyone, so we might as well start now.”

Our conversation continued in this vain for the next several minutes until I brought up his book, “Which book is that?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo, it’s my favorite.”

“Mine too! And I can’t stand the movie. It completely butchers it. He’s only in prison for about a tenth of the book, not half.”

“That’s what I tell everyone! They just don’t understand and have trouble reading the book, even my father couldn’t get around the style of writing.”

At this moment the professor came in and our eyes went to the front of the room. We pulled out our notebooks, pens, and books and began preparing our minds for the lecture ahead. We were given the syllabus and various handouts that we would need in understanding the material that would be covered in the course. Then the professor launched into it. This wasn’t high school and so there wouldn’t be any time wasted.

My mind, however, wasn’t interested in paying complete attention. I kept glancing over at James’ hands. He wrote in a neat cursive that was completely legible. His hands seemed to be calloused and worn, like he had done a good deal of yard work in the last few weeks. Suddenly an image appeared in my mind of his strong hands holding my waist as we danced together. I shook my head sharply to get the image out my head. That was completely unlike me. I rarely day dreamed in class and certainly hadn’t been known to dream about boys I’d just met. I forced myself to focus on the professors words and made myself try to write down every word that he uttered in an attempt to keep my mind focused. I succeeded fairly well and only got distracted one other time when I saw James lift the can of coke to his lips and drain it, tilting his head back, his t-shirt riding up on his bicep.

Once the lecture was over at noon the large class seemed to move as one as everyone leaned down to put books in their appropriate bags or under arms.

“Would you like to go check out the student union for lunch? I’ve heard that they you can find some fairly decent food there, not like the cafeteria at the dorms,” James asked me.

“I’d love to, I’m starving. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast this morning. I just haven’t gotten my routine down yet,” I answered, leading the way through the throng of student pressing out of the building and onto the lawn between the buildings, both for classes and dorms. The conversation continued about the changes we had been forced to make in our personal schedules since moving to the university dorms.

“I know what you mean about the routine, I haven’t been able to find time to work in my morning run yet. And we haven’t even gotten any homework yet. I don’t know what I’ll be able to find the time,” James said.

As we entered the Student Union I saw a variety of fast food establishments that I knew very well. None of them truly appealed to me though. “Hmmm I think I’ll check out that sandwich place,” I said.

“Alright, how about if I meet you at that table over there,” he gestured at a table by a mural showing Edward Munch’s The Scream, painted by a student long ago.

“OK, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

As I stood in line for my sandwich my mind buzzed. This guy was amazing. He like Alexander Dumas, he was a good student, he was a good worked, he ran, and he seemed to like art. Was there anything wrong with him? There must be something, no one was perfect. I got my sandwich and headed back to the table. What I saw there surprised me at first. James had beaten me back to the table and his side of the table held two trays with the products of several of the fast food stalls. I set my tray with my sandwich down and slid into the booth, “You were even hungrier than I was!”

James smiled and laughed “I’ve always been a huge eater, plus my parents gave me a lot of money for food and I couldn’t decide on what to get. But now you see why I really need to find a time to run.”

Something in the moment stirred deep within me. It was like the gears in my head, which had slipped a couple hours earlier, had just shifted into a whole new pattern. Looking back I don’t think I really realized what had happened, I just shook it off responded “You look great James. I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. Like you said earlier before class, we aren’t in high school anymore, so trying to fit into different social groups isn’t supposed to be a priority anymore.”

“Well they’re the words I had in my mouth. You’re right, but at the same time it’s important to stay healthy. I’ll try to find a time to run by next week. I think I may have over done it ordering all of this though… maybe my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” mused James, patting his belly.

Seeing James pat his belly that way caused, for the second time that day, an image to flash through my mind. I saw myself patting his belly, but it wasn’t as flat as it was today, it was enormous, rising high. And around us weren’t the contents of three sandwiches, but dozens and dozens of food containers

As soon as the image entered my mind it left and I was left stunned by the reaction I had to it. I had never been a sexual person, I had had a few orgasms, while experimenting, but nothing memorable enough to make it a habit. But that image of James’ huge belly and my hand patting it caused my loins to stir in such a way as I had never felt before. Before I realized what I was doing I spoke, “Aw come on James, I’ll bet you can do it. I’ve seen guys eat way more than that.”

James gave me a look for a moment, I wasn’t sure what that look meant. Then he said, “Well I don’t want to be shown up now do I?”

He then began eating quickly, but not messily. Soon all of the food had disappeared and James leaned back. I could see that his belly was pushing slightly against his shirt. This sent another thrill through me that I simply couldn’t understand. James and I continued talking for about another half hour, then we both had another class on opposite sides of campus.

As they stood outside the union I spoke up again, but this time it took quite a bit of effort to get the words out, my heart was beating in ways that it hadn’t before, “James… I’m glad that you’re in my class. It’s good knowing that I’m going to have a friend there.”

James smiled and it sent a different kind of thrill through her than the images had, “Me too Lisa. You know, so many of the girls here are so vapid and out there, it’s good to meet someone who’s head is in there.” He hesitated a moment, looking as if he was struggling to decide to say something or do something. Suddenly he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I must have blushed from my chest clear to my scalp, but I closed my eyes, willing the feeling to last. James whispered a slightly embarrassed and hurried “I’ll see you later Lisa.”

When I opened my eyes again he was gone, it wasn’t until later that I found the slip of paper in my pocket that he must have put there when he kissed me. It had his cell number and email address. He must have written them down there while I was still getting my sandwich, knowing then that he would kiss me.

His number and email weren’t the only things on my mind that evening as I lay down to sleep. The strange images that had flashed through my mind and their affect on me were also there. That night I dreamt things. Things that I had never thought I would dream before. I dreamt that James was immensely obese and that I was the one who had helped him become that way. And that we had loved every moment of it and had fallen in love. The dreams left me confused, but I knew that it would be an interesting semester, getting to know James, and also getting to know myself a little more.


Please give me some feed back. I'm starting work on Part 2 But I want to know that someone is enjoying this story! -Max
 

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