• Dimensions Magazine is a vibrant community of size acceptance enthusiasts. Our very active members use this community to swap stories, engage in chit-chat, trade photos, plan meetups, interact with models and engage in classifieds.

    Access to Dimensions Magazine is subscription based. Subscriptions are only $29.99/year or $5.99/month to gain access to this great community and unmatched library of knowledge and friendship.

    Click Here to Become a Subscribing Member and Access Dimensions Magazine in Full!

Vermont Christmas - by Venjance (~BHM, FFA, Extreme Eating)

Dimensions Magazine

Help Support Dimensions Magazine:

This site may earn a commission from merchant affiliate links, including eBay, Amazon, and others.

Venjance

Member
Joined
Sep 26, 2009
Messages
15
Location
,
~BHM, FFA, Extreme Eating


Vermont Christmas

by Venjance


Even the drive left Cole both at ease and prickling with eager anticipation. He had come to know Leah as someone unique, someone who… no, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the character, and it cheapened her to even try placing her in categories. All he knew is that he was looking forward to the evening he was going to spend with this fascinating, wonderful person he was going to get to know better. He couldn’t pass up the invitation, not in part because he had nowhere else to go. True, he had been invited to several holiday parties, but those were larks, chaotic celebrations that happened to coincide with a holiday, not be part of it. This was different.

Leah had invited him to her place in Vermont. She didn’t live in Boston as he did, and while he had shown her the brilliant city, she said it was time to see her side now. The idea both flattered and touched him, as calloused a businessman as he had become over the years. This was a genuine invitation, not one with a measured purpose of getting another contact or cozying up to a contractor. Cole had invited Leah to his place for drinks and dessert once, but that was just a residence, it was just a place to put his belongings, somewhere to sleep. But this small house in Vermont, this was her home, it was who she was. And he was to spend a single night within it.

He was taken aback by his own thinking, and would have shaken his head were he not intent on the snowy road in front of him. It might’ve been his subconscious, but that sounded dangerously close to sexuality. For the first time in two years, he had met a person he hoped to know more than just a casual lover, and suddenly he forgets how to behave properly. He was a creature of society, for god sake, and he’d forgotten the niceties that he practiced over and over again.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he rounded a bend and found the entrance off the road, a long driveway deeper into the trees. He would have called it picturesque were he not struck by the excitement and nervousness of a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He pulled careful into the drive, not wanting to fishtail, and rolled down the long way, seeing just the glimmer of lights between the bare trees and evergreens. At the end of the driveway was an inviting wood and brick house, smoke curling from its chimney and outlined against the darkening sky, windows spilling a glowing light that pooled over the drifts of snow. To one side was a stacked pile of wood, and on the other, a picture window facing the steep incline, offering what would have been a lovely view of the forested hills down below were it not for all the trees in the way. At the end of the driveway was her little blue Mazda. Cole parked behind her and got out of the car, the gift and a bottle of champagne in hand.

He had hardly reached the main entrance before he heard her shout “back door!” With a shrug to nobody in general, he crunched through the snow to the back of the house, where a low doorway next to the chimney rested. He shouldered in, announcing “knock knock” with a smile, but stopping dead within the doorway.

The back door entered directly into the kitchen, which was a riot of light and aromas. There were dishes on nearly every available countertop, and still more being prepared on an old wood-burning stove. Leah turned to greet Cole, breezing over with an apron over her normal light clothes and a big smile.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Me too,” he said, still taken aback. “I’m not used to Vermont roads, and the snow made me wonder if I’d live the night.”

She punched him lightly with a hand, encased in an oven mitt. “Wouldn’t leave a girl waiting, would you? Not even if you drove off a cliff.”

They both paused in the moment, the general awkward point after a greeting but before settling in. Cole both hated and loved the fact that she made his carefully acquired people skills fritter away, and realized he still hadn’t closed the door. That, at least, would be a start.

“Thanks,” she said, “I’d hate to have the food get cold for you. Turkey keeps well for sandwiches, but it’s just not the same reheated…”

“I was going to ask you about that, actually.” He was a little disappointed at seeing all the food, but it was a little childish to believe he had an entire holiday evening worth to get to know her alone. He had a feeling any friend of Leah would easily become a friend of his, however. “How many others are coming? If I’d known, I would have brought more than one bottle.”

Leah quickly moved towards a simmering pan, and murmured to him. He couldn’t hear what she said over a percolating kettle, so he had to ask and lean in close, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re the only one.”

Cole would have asked her to repeat herself yet again, but her mannerism told him she spoke true. She was slightly embarrassed about it. She only acted self-consciously when aspects of her personality surfaced that had given her grief in the past. While his upper brain wondered about this, he himself had to grab onto the first thought that buoyed forth, otherwise he would stand gaping.

“Do you always cook like this for anyone?”

“It’s been a while since a man was in the home, just used to cooking big. Didn’t want you to be hungry, I guess, and I know how long the trip must’ve been. You must be starving.”

He had to laugh at that. “I know I’m a big boy, but really, you’ve outdone yourself. There’s enough here to feed us both for days. At least you won’t have to worry about leftovers for some time.”

All she could do was smile sheepishly and pour what appeared to be a sauce over a rack of lamb. That was decedent, and he had gotten used to impressive restaurants when he wanted to woo a customer. “The holidays are a time for getting together and sharing good memories with one another. That means building memories as well, and good food makes good memories.”

“That makes sense,” Cole said, “but where I come from, the holidays were mainly a same-old. The family would get together, but there would be more fighting than bonding. Gifts were given, but that’s more consumerism than holiday cheer.” He winced as he realized he blundered over mentioning family. Leah had stopped and wiped a tear from her cheek with the oven mitt. “I’m sorry. That was…”

“No, it’s fine. Need to get used to it. Daddy’s gone, and Tim is in no state to travel. I guess… I guess I just wanted it to be one last Christmas together. Stupid really. Going through all the things I did every year.”

The cheerful home full of home-cooked smells couldn’t stop the quiet silence that hung in the room, the ghostly idea of a perfect Christmas.

“Is that why you invited me, then?” Cole asked quietly. “I have no family to speak of?”

Leah smiled and coughed a laugh, wiping her cheeks again. “Wasn’t sorry for you, silly. I like you and want to spend Christmas with someone I liked. Tell you what; get over yourself and I’ll get over myself.”

“Deal.”

“In that case, get seated, and get eating. You won’t be wanting for food, but you’re going to feel the back of my spoon if you let it get cold!” she threatened.

“How can I argue when you put it that way?”

Really, it wasn’t too difficult to dig in. There really was something about home-cooked meals that made it exquisite, even compared to the finest chefs. The casseroles were flaky and rich, the vegetables buttery and moist while still being crispy, the main dishes were to die for… there was zucchini, mashed potatoes, dumplings, cornbread, biscuits, all delicious and all strangely appetizing… and all just side dishes to the main courses of the rack of lamb, beer-battered sausage, lasagna, and of course the full turkey.

Leah filled up Cole’s plate whenever he finished with one dish, introducing the next with a kind of pride. She made sure he knew he could take as much as he liked, but whenever there was a new course to be had, she was right there scooping it out onto his plate. Between the courses, she would join Cole and helped herself to those dishes she enjoyed. They chatted and shared stories and laughed and ate, and the night seemed to fly by. The kitchen was tight, but it was inviting and cheerful. It would’ve been sweltering next to the oven and with all the dishes surrounding them, but with the kitchen window opened just a crack, it was positively glowing.

At one point, Cole offered to help, which provoked a reaction from her. She furrowed her eyebrows and placed her be-mitted hands on her hips.

“You’re a guest, and guests don’t work. Simple as that. Now eat up, there’s more on the way.”

His button-up shirt was actually starting to strain at the buttonholes, and his khakis were digging in painfully while he could feel his already substantial stomach overhanging the top. Leah was already traveling to the oven yet again. As her back was turned, he sheepishly unbuttoned his pants, letting out a breath of relief at the slight ease of pain. His belly gratefully took the extra space and then some. It did afford him some room, however.

With that, Cole continued to eat and nibble as she prepared the different courses. The talk continued unabated because she was only a few steps away. He really was enjoying himself. Cole felt intoxicated, even though he hadn’t opened the bottle of champagne. He felt better than he had at any posh party. He also felt fuller than he ever had been. It snuck up and caught him as the turkey and its sides were produced, its size dwarfing the table. Looking at that fat bird stuffed to the point of bursting, he couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship.

“Oof, Leah, I’m not sure if I can do much more. It all looks… and smells!... so wonderful, but I really don’t have much room left.” It was an understatement, but it was true, it looked enticing.

All she had to do was smile to get Cole to concede. “Well, it’s not like you have to finish the whole thing, silly. Just eat as much as you want and we’ll put away the rest. But save a little bit of room, I have something special for dessert.”

Cole’s belly groaned at him as he said “All right, but only a few small pieces.”

Leah cut some sections off the turkey, steam rising from the moist bird. The pieces were a little thick, but so long as he didn’t have to eat too many, he felt he could manage. There was, of course, gravy to be had, and the stuffing complimented it perfectly. He ate slowly, enjoying the tastes but feeling how bloated his stomach was and how it began to ache, like a water balloon stretched to the point of popping. She joined him, taking just a little turkey and stuffing and adding some summer squash to both their plates. “My gram’s recipe,” she explained happily. Of course, he had to try her gram’s squash too.

He didn’t end up finishing his last piece of turkey, but he managed the other two pieces and finished his sides. By the end, though, he himself was matching his belly’s groaning. It really was all so good, but there was just too much. Cole was afraid he’d make a mess of an otherwise wonderful evening by feeling ill the rest of the night.

“Now I know it won’t be your mothers… but I remember how you said your favorite dessert happened to be berry cobbler. Hope I did it justice, but it’s fine if you don’t eat any.” She scooped out two heaping spoonfuls into the bowls. They were steaming, straight from the oven, and Cole could see there were blueberries, strawberries, raspberries… some berries out of season, but others, he was sure, were fresh. She then opened the cracked window fully, leaned out, and returned with a carton of French vanilla ice cream. “S’a little trick you learn out here, let the snow do your cooling for you. So tell me what you think!”

At the very least, Cole thought, he owed her a taste. All that effort just for him, after all. He wasn’t thinking too clearly, he seemed to be drunk off of food if that were possible. The warm kitchen had turned dreamy somehow, and his head swam and spun just enough to make him know he would not be able to get up. He took the spoon and dug it into the cobbler, getting each of the berries, some of the crisp and a little ice cream, and took a taste, though his stomach was in agony.

It wasn’t his mothers, that was sure it. It was better. While his mother would have made the dessert as a special treat for her children, this dish was meant to impress. Not just impress Cole in the taste of the cobbler, but to impress upon him how much she felt for him. It could’ve been his mind going a little haywire, the cold calculating part of his brain noted, but the rest of his brain was so enraptured in good company and pickled in good food that it either wasn’t listening or couldn’t.

Leah opened her mouth, a worried look crossing her face, but Cole cut her off. “It’s wonderful. It’s… it’s just as good as mom’s no doubt about it. It’s really amazing.” She positively glowed. He took another spoonful, painful as it was, and delighted in the taste.

“I’m so sorry, but I really can’t finish it though. To be honest, I’ve never eaten so much in my life. I hope you don’t take this as the way I always eat. I’ve made a pig of myself tonight.”

Leah shook her head and blushed as she stood up. “Don’t worry about it, really. It just… it really makes me happy to share the holiday with someone who enjoys my cooking again. Thanks for being that person.” She walked over to Cole and gently pulled him up. He tried to protest, his mind jolting awake at the realization that she would see his unbuttoned pants and belly if he stood up, but she wanted to show Cole something in the other room, and he didn’t have the heart to say no. He wobbled on his feet a little bit, but caught the edge of the table. She half led, half pulled him through the kitchen into the living room with the picture window. There was a distinct feel of a tiny tug boat pulling a massive steamer behind her, and she directed him to the couch in front of the wide window. If she noticed his top button, she didn’t mention it.

“Rest here for a bit.”

She went back into the kitchen, leaving him in the darkened living room. He sunk into the comfy couch in front of the picture window. In an attempt to relieve a little of the strain on his stomach, he relaxed and slumped into the seat. Cole moved to undo the top button of his jeans, but his fingers found he had already done so early on in the meal. No matter which way he turned or pushed, he was uncomfortable. He was also a little shocked at the size of his stomach; it pushed angrily at his shirt, and laying down as he was, it took up what may be a larger amount of his vision than normal. It would take weeks of hard exercise to make a dent in a single night’s decadence. Yet, it was such a lovely evening. Cole was willing to live through a little pain and hardship for that. He realized he should be offering to help clean up after the banquet she hosted, but he knew he’d be of no help.

It wasn’t too long until she returned, turning off the kitchen lights. Only the glow from the oven lit the house. Leah sat next to Cole on the couch and joined him in looking out the window into nighttime Vermont. Cole took back his original thought that the picture window wouldn’t have much of a view with all the trees in front of it; it was peaceful and romantic, looking at the snow-dusted evergreens and the stars just beyond their peaks.

Leah sidled up to Cole and lay against his shoulder. It wasn’t an abrupt movement and didn’t have overt connotation, it was just… fitting. The perfect ending to a perfect holiday. She even seemed to fit against him, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, light arm draped across his stomach (overly stuffed as it was), her lovely torso resting against his side. To him, they fit like yin and yang, like two puzzle pieces. Very gently, she dropped her hand to his stomach and rubbed it in circles, a calming, soothing motion. To Cole’s surprise, he began feeling better.

“You do this for anyone after a holiday meal?”

“No, just the ones I like,” she said quietly.

They stayed like this for some time, the gentle movement easing to his swollen stomach. He dozed in and out of sleep for a while, enjoying the sensation while, at the same time, wanting the night to never end. Cole was broken out of the reverie at Leah’s abrupt whisper.

“Stay here.”

He blinked his bleary eyes and had to ask, “What?”

“You have two weeks off for the holidays,” she answered quietly, hurriedly. “Stay here the rest. You don’t need to be anywhere else, do you?”

Cole paused as the past night rolled through his unfocused head. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so enjoyed a night as this. To imagine two full weeks, not just these nights but entire days, spending time with this wonderful woman, there was no other answer.

“I would love to stay here.”

She cuddled closer. “Good.”
 

Latest posts

Back
Top