So Full of Love I can Barely Eat (update/polish/more detail)

The week before Valentine’s Day is always so filling; even more so in the year and a half since Olivia and I started dating, and not only because she can cook like no one’s business. She dotes on me so much I could live on her love alone, not that she’d let me skip any meals. I cast my eyes over her and feel a fond smile quirk my features. A familiar warming sensation washes over me and my stomach starts to feel fuller, 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; my fat wide belly conforms to her back and bulges over her upper side to droop over her torso as I settle into “big spoon” position. As my skin touches hers, the warming sensation bathes my entire body again and my fullness increases. Feeling almost guilty, I sigh as I revel in the sensation of rich almost buttery love filling my stomach. 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 and I hadn’t really realized just how much I needed it before I met her. Besides, don’t the doctors always say you should fill up on wholesome healthy snacks? That’s how Liv’s affection feels to me, I can tell it’s good for me and I know that my affection is good for her too. 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 as her shoulder finds its way under my pendulous right moob and her head presses against my nearly-as-big left moob. 

I close my eyes and plant a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, barely able to past the soft mound of my moob resting on her, she sighs softly and settles her head deeper into my ample chest. She could feel my emotions too, being like me…it makes you loud in a mind kind of way, and I hope the surge of affection I feel helps make her sleep extra restful. For a long time I didn’t understand this…what 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.

How emotions flow back and forth between us makes our relationship is unique. Most people would assume the fact that I outweigh Liv almost six times over would be the strangest thing about our relationship, but it’s not. Though, because of my size we have had our share of nasty attention from strangers and it was hard at first not to get lost in that. But she was always there to give me something positive to hold onto. 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. 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 sound of something frying in the nearby kitchen and notice the smell of bacon. 

“Elijah!” I hear Liv calling, which immediately brings a wide smile to my plump features along with a feeling like a large swig of hot chocolate hitting my stomach. 

I sit up and swing my pudgy legs over the side of the bed with a grunt and my ponderous girth slumps downward and settles past my knees to slap against the bedframe. In the 16 or so months I’ve been with Liv I’d put on an honestly shocking amount of weight, ballooning from 450 or so pounds to nearly 700. But, as long as I spent most of the day with Liv or some other close friends I could still move as easily, if not more easily, than I could at 300 pounds. It seemed like positive emotions made me stronger physically, as well as filling me up. 

“Breakfast is almost ready! Get that glorious fat ass down here before the food gets cold!” Liv’s follow-up shout comes a moment later. 

Levering myself up, I call back, “Coming, hon! You know it’s hard to roll this bulk out of bed.” The frame of which creaks in an almost relieved sounding way.

“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, the constant low level pulse that she puts off while asleep is basically a torrent now that she’s awake. I can feel my stomach swelling as my pleasantly full feeling lists toward the nice beginnings of stuffedness. Fortunately, fullness from food is a little different 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 as she watches my upper belly becoming slightly firmer from all the sweet affection I’m soaking up, “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 beams of it still creak ominously under my 685 pound body, we may need to buy a new one soon. Liv slides onto my right thigh 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. Her free hand pressing into my belly a little harder as it bloats out slightly from the rush of love.

“Perfectly since I get to sleep beside you.” I put my arm around her and rub her back, then pull her a little closer and plant a kiss on her cheek.

She laughs and puts a heaping spoonful of cheesy eggs in my mouth catching me a little off guard, and then following the eggs with a loaded fork full of home fries.

“Enough of your nonsense. Time to get you fed,” Liv says with complete seriousness, giving my cheek a pinch and continuing the feeding with a large sausage patty.

To Be Continued