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So Full of Love I can Barely Eat: Pt 1
🕑 Added 2020-02-14 00:34:50 +0000 UTCA comfortable sort of affection
The week before Valentine’s Day is always so filling; even more so since I met Liv and not only because she can cook like no one’s business. She dotes on me, I swear I could live on her love alone. I cast my eyes over her and feel a fond smile quirk my features. My stomach feels warm and full, lifting the covers slightly more. One of my hands finds its way to my heavy belly and rubs it.
Careful not to wake her, I ease myself down beside Liv and nestle against her. As my skin touches hers, the warming sensation bathes my entire body again and my fullness increases. Feeling guilty, I sigh. Liv will be annoyed that I’ve ruined my breakfast by snacking on affection -- or at least she’ll feign annoyance because I will certainly make myself eat whatever she prepares. I can’t help it, the snacking, her presence and love are comforting. I sink in and carefully wrap my heavy arms around her. Liv stirs briefly, pushing her back against my soft girth sending another wave of warmth over me.
I close my eyes and plant a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, she sighs softly and settles her head against my ample chest. For a long time I didn’t understand this…what was happened to me whenever I was close to another person. When I sense her affection, her feelings, washing over me and surrounding me, it almost blocks out everything else. Unfortunately it didn’t only happen with good emotions. Hatred, anger, disgust, jealousy, and shame are particularly overwhelming. Being overcome by them used to leave me weak and sickened.
Our relationship is unique. Most people would assume the uniqueness is because I’m nearly six times Liv’s weight. Because of my size, we have had our share of nasty attention from strangers. But Liv always helps me move past those feelings when they overwhelm me.
I’m an “empath” or a “telempath” or “attenuated to prana” or something, I’ve had different words bandied about by at least a dozen “psychics” and “aura readers” for years. Most of whom were probably charlatans with only enough extra sensory perceptiveness to know if someone is standing directly behind them, practically breathing down their necks. But, the overlap in diagnosis was at least enough for me to believe it.
Better than knowing just what I am was getting to experiment with it and research ways to close my senses off. A shiver runs through me when I recall how frequently the moods of others had overwhelmed me and left me shaking. I put that out of my head as I let myself drift back off to sleep with my arms around Liv.
When I wake up again, Liv’s side of the bed is empty. I hear the distant sound of something frying and notice the smell of bacon.
“Elijah!” I hear Liv calling, which immediately brings a wide smile to my plump features along with another filling sensation.
I sit up with a grunt and my ponderous girth slumps into my lap.
“Breakfast is almost ready! Get that fat ass down here before the food gets cold!” Liv’s follow-up shout comes a moment later and I immediately swing my pudgy legs over the side of the bed.
Levering myself up, I call back, “Coming, hon! You know it’s hard to roll this bulk out of bed.”
“You’d have an easier time if you didn’t fill up on love before breakfast,” she returns her tone both chiding and jocular. I can’t help smiling even wider.
“Pfft! Whatever, honey. You know as well as I do that you’re happy I have such a good source of supplemental nutrition. You wouldn’t want me wasting away now, would you?” I waddle heavily toward the kitchen, the wooden floor creaking under my weight.
With every step forward I feel a little fuller. It’s so hard not to take in her affection when it’s radiating off of her like heat from a furnace. I can feel my stomach swelling. Fortunately, fullness from food is a little different from the fullness I glean from emotional energy. If I push myself should be able to put away however much Liv heaps onto my plate.
As I waddle through the kitchen door I pause to lean against the wall. Liv is standing there flipping a few pieces of bacon with a pair of tongs. Her dark hair is bound up in a haphazard bun to keep it out of her face as she cooks. Under the kitchen lights her deep brown skin seems to glow and I take a deep breath, love filling me once more.
“Now, now, tubby, that’s enough snacking before the meal,” she says, her lips turning up in a smirk, “You won’t be able to finish the food I’ve made you.”
“Now I take offense to that, and besides -- I can’t help it when you’re such a vision of loveliness and a pure delight to be with,” I can’t help letting out a giddy little chuckle as I walk the rest of the way into the kitchen. My face is pink from the short walk and the affection we share.
I lower my bulk onto the chair. The thick reinforced oaken beams still creak ominously under my six-hundred-plus pound body. Liv slides onto my lap pressing her back and side against my sloping belly and places a plate bearing a mound of eggs, bacon, sausage, and home fries on the table. The first of many, I know.
“Did you sleep well, my love?” she whispers, settling one arm around my doughy shoulders and kissing my cheek gently.
“Perfectly since I get to sleep beside you.”
She laughs and puts a heaping spoonful of cheesy eggs in my mouth.
“Enough of your nonsense. Time to get you fed,” Liv says with complete seriousness, giving my cheek a pinch and following that first spoonful of eggs with a large piece of sausage.
