Culinary Librarian - 4 - The Measure of Things

Bad dinners go hand in hand with total depravity, while a properly fed [woman] is already half saved.

-Buckeye Cookery and Practical Housekeeping, Buckeye Publishing Company, 1877

By the time the New Year rolled around, Magnolia and Sonya had fallen into a cozy little pattern. The extra chill in the air and the steady march of holidays made it easy to find excuses to get together.

At least once a week, Magnolia would invite Sonya over, promising the blonde belle dinner or something sweet. Every time, they would both overdo it–Magnolia by producing far more dishes than any two people could hope to consume, and Sonya by gorging herself until she could hardly move.

The rest of November and all of December passed in a flurry of bûche de noël, Christmas cookies, hearty roasts, and creamy soups.

Magnolia was overjoyed with this development. Having Sonya in her home, slurping down her cooking and demanding seconds, thirds, and more left her giddy every time. She did do her best to be normal about it all and not let on that every bite, every little burp Sonya couldn’t quite suppress, the sight of her manicured hands cradling her well-fed stomach, all felt like foreplay.

She made the assumption that Sonya was like most of the other women she’d been with who enjoyed a good meal–women who liked to eat, but didn’t have the same salacious associations with a full stomach that Magnolia did. When they snuggled and kissed on Magnolia’s comfy little couch, Magnolia avoided Sonya’s belly as much as possible. (Quite a difficult feat for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which being that she so very much wanted to worship every growing inch of it.) She kept her caresses to safe zones: Sonya’s behemoth tits and soft thighs, the curve of her waist, her perfectly kissable neck and shoulders, and of course her ridiculously plush ass. This was, to Magnolia’s mind, more than she even deserved anyway. Sonya was a goddess, and she loved treating her like one.

Unfortunate, then, that Magnolia’s assumption happened to be wholly incorrect. During their first few weeks of feasting and heavy petting, Sonya was burning for a very specific type of attention. At home, she’d continued to avail herself of regular overfeedings. Nothing like her ludicrous Thanksgiving binge, but far more than she’d ever eaten on a regular basis. She’d found that there was nothing like a quart of ice cream packed into her gut to turn herself on. And being the archivist she was, she couldn’t help but research her new proclivity.

Sonya was unsurprised that there were other people who happened to enjoy a full belly along with their orgasms. But of course, it was so much more than that. So many things that touched on kinks and pleasures she already knew she liked: being pampered by someone, body worship, delicious food and lots of it. The belly rub videos where it seemed like the whole world shrank to a single, soft, squishy point looked glorious. But doing it herself just didn’t offer quite the same satisfaction as she knew she would feel with a pretty redhead’s hands on her softening gut.

As she spent more time with Magnolia, Sonya was nearly certain they shared many of the same… ahem, interests. The way the young woman touched her, looked at her–Sonya would bet a batch of Magnolia’s ginger snaps that Magnolia had a thing for making big girls bigger. The librarian was proof of that, after all. A whole lot of the extra sand in her hourglass was entirely Magnolia’s responsibility. Even so, she was hesitant. She was enjoying their time together and worried that rocking the boat might end it all.

It took some time reminding herself how silly that was for her to finally try and push things in a new direction. And that new direction involved inviting Magnolia over for a sleepover on a Friday evening.

It would be the first time Magnolia would see her place, and the first time they’d ever actually spent the night together. It had taken longer than normal for Sonya to feel ready for that kind of intimacy. Magnolia had never pushed for Sonya to stay over, but Sonya had noticed the disappointment on her face when she headed home in the evenings after dinner. Sonya hadn’t really been able to articulate why she wasn’t ready–just that she wasn’t.

One night as she got ready for bed, she finally realized: she was worried her image as a perfectly put together professional and sexpot would be ruined, at least for Magnolia. She looked down at herself. Ordinarily, when work wasn’t so stressful, she made an effort even when she was heading to bed. Her pajamas had always been cute matching sets, soft negligees, or even comfy sundresses that she wasn’t much interested in wearing out and about but were perfect for sleeping and lounging around the house in. Lately, though, she’d been heading to bed stuffed into previously oversized t-shirts with no bottoms except her underwear. Both garments were overtaxed, the shirt riding up on her stomach and muffin top, the underwear stretched to capacity by her widened derrière, stitches beginning to pop. When she was alone, she didn’t think about it much beyond reminding herself she needed new pajamas that actually fit. But to have someone else over… well, it felt slovenly, and she didn’t like the thought of Magnolia or anyone seeing her that way.

And the thing was, it wasn’t just her house clothes that she’d outgrown. She had taken some time to pick up a few things here and there, even (ugh) heading to the mall to try and find something to wear until she could afford something better. She threw a few hideously patterned dresses and ugly shirt and elastic-waisted skirt combinations into her outfit rotation, her old clothes now so small on her she couldn’t even zip her skirts or button her shirts. The new clothes weren’t her style at all, and while they were big enough to fit her, that was about the only thing they had going for them. She couldn’t justify going to get them tailored, at first because they were all just so ugly she couldn’t stand to spend any extra money on them. (And they were so expensive in the first place given the awful quality!) On top of that, she kept growing, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she had to move on to the next quick fix, so why bother tailoring them to a body she wouldn’t even have in a few weeks?

Being unable to dress properly, especially when she was at work, was frustrating beyond belief. It was even more frustrating given just how much he had to show off. Though her middle was growing just like the rest of her, she was still comparatively wasp-waisted, breasts and hips sweeping outward into an ever-heavier hourglass shape. If she had the right clothes, the cleavage she could show off would leave Magnolia speechless, and the additional wobble of her ass would put her on her knees. But as it was, Sonya was swaddled in shapeless clothes that even her curves couldn’t make look good.

So, in preparation for the sleepover, she bought a few new comfy things for home and made a plan for Magnolia to assist her with her shrinking wardrobe.

When Friday finally rolled around and Magnolia showed up at her door, Sonya greeted her with a long kiss as she pulled the grad student into her apartment. Magnolia barely had time to set her overnight bag down and put the treats and groceries she’d bought in the kitchen before Sonya pulled out a measuring tape and stretched it between her hands. “I thought we could kick off the evening with something fun,” she said with a wide smile. “Think you could help me find out just how much of your cooking has gone right to my hips?”

She did not need to ask a second time.