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Description
Fitting In pt1

Steady, private percussion calmed her, fortified her spirits for the big day ahead. Tink, tink, tink, tink. Gabriela rapped her engagement ring on the glass baking dish she carried. Things would go better for her second family reunion; this time she brought a dessert.

Of course you were supposed to bring food to a potluck. But last year, Gabriela had only gotten this crucial tip after the fact. Annoyance at being kept in the dark turned poisonous when he was forced to admit it was purposeful, that he thought she was a bad cook. It was their first nasty fight, and they spent a few miserable days apart, but luckily their relationship weathered the storm. Gabriela never admitted he was right, but she quietly resolved to improve her skills.

The peanut butter brownies she had baked last night were proof of her progress. To her surprise, an entire row went missing from the pan. As she licked greasy crumbs off her fingers, then cut herself another square, she was glad they were irresistible. She wasn't thrilled with having to make another batch, but the thought of still having some in the fridge when she got back home perked her up. She put them away before she could do any more damage to the pan, wanting leftovers, wanting to reserve some room in her stomach for the feasting the next day.

Today. Cloudlessly sunny, with temperatures hovering in the mid 70's, low humidity combined with a slight cooling breeze meant perfect picnic weather. The scent of grilling meat wafted over to her. She swallowed a mouthful of her saliva. Gabriela felt an elbow nudge gentle enough not to disrupt her precious cargo, but forceful enough to break her out of her trance.

"You look like a junkyard dog eyeing those tables," he teased.

In the shade of the pavilion was where the food was piled. She leaned over to brush his stubbly cheek with her lips. "That's right. I'm going to attack 'em." She stood on her tiptoes to get her mouth close to his ear, leaned into him so that her ripe chest mashed up against his arm. Gabriela lowered her voice to a sultry growl. "And later tonight I'm gonna attack you. Rawr." She nipped his earlobe, and to her delight, he blushed. Her appetites had grown wanton in tandem. Her bigger, softer body demanded more attention, responded better to being touched and squeezed and fondled. She was fatter but more fuckable.

Immensely pleased with herself, she set her brownies on the buffet table and peeled a paper plate off the stack, then set to work loading it down. No longer fussy about food, her problem this time was finding enough space for everything that looked delicious. Soon her plate was heaped to capacity and she had to settle for mentally bookmarking potential picks for when she would return for seconds. The only way to guarantee they'd still be there was to eat quickly. Gabriela increased her pace, successfully racing the chemical signals from her stomach that told her brain it was getting full.

She set to work on another generous plate, reducing it to smears of bacon mac & cheese and barbecue baked beans that she chased around with her fork. Underneath the table, she could feel her gut distend into her lap. Gabriela discreetly took her fiance's hand and positioned it on her belly like they were expectant parents waiting for the first kick. "How'm I doing? Am I getting the hang of this?" That blush on her partner's face again caused her to smile wickedly.

"You're gonna be mad if you don't save room for dessert."

Fitting In pt3

Description
Fitting In pt1

Steady, private percussion calmed her, fortified her spirits for the big day ahead. Tink, tink, tink, tink. Gabriela rapped her engagement ring on the glass baking dish she carried. Things would go better for her second family reunion; this time she brought a dessert.

Of course you were supposed to bring food to a potluck. But last year, Gabriela had only gotten this crucial tip after the fact. Annoyance at being kept in the dark turned poisonous when he was forced to admit it was purposeful, that he thought she was a bad cook. It was their first nasty fight, and they spent a few miserable days apart, but luckily their relationship weathered the storm. Gabriela never admitted he was right, but she quietly resolved to improve her skills.

The peanut butter brownies she had baked last night were proof of her progress. To her surprise, an entire row went missing from the pan. As she licked greasy crumbs off her fingers, then cut herself another square, she was glad they were irresistible. She wasn't thrilled with having to make another batch, but the thought of still having some in the fridge when she got back home perked her up. She put them away before she could do any more damage to the pan, wanting leftovers, wanting to reserve some room in her stomach for the feasting the next day.

Today. Cloudlessly sunny, with temperatures hovering in the mid 70's, low humidity combined with a slight cooling breeze meant perfect picnic weather. The scent of grilling meat wafted over to her. She swallowed a mouthful of her saliva. Gabriela felt an elbow nudge gentle enough not to disrupt her precious cargo, but forceful enough to break her out of her trance.

"You look like a junkyard dog eyeing those tables," he teased.

In the shade of the pavilion was where the food was piled. She leaned over to brush his stubbly cheek with her lips. "That's right. I'm going to attack 'em." She stood on her tiptoes to get her mouth close to his ear, leaned into him so that her ripe chest mashed up against his arm. Gabriela lowered her voice to a sultry growl. "And later tonight I'm gonna attack you. Rawr." She nipped his earlobe, and to her delight, he blushed. Her appetites had grown wanton in tandem. Her bigger, softer body demanded more attention, responded better to being touched and squeezed and fondled. She was fatter but more fuckable.

Immensely pleased with herself, she set her brownies on the buffet table and peeled a paper plate off the stack, then set to work loading it down. No longer fussy about food, her problem this time was finding enough space for everything that looked delicious. Soon her plate was heaped to capacity and she had to settle for mentally bookmarking potential picks for when she would return for seconds. The only way to guarantee they'd still be there was to eat quickly. Gabriela increased her pace, successfully racing the chemical signals from her stomach that told her brain it was getting full.

She set to work on another generous plate, reducing it to smears of bacon mac & cheese and barbecue baked beans that she chased around with her fork. Underneath the table, she could feel her gut distend into her lap. Gabriela discreetly took her fiance's hand and positioned it on her belly like they were expectant parents waiting for the first kick. "How'm I doing? Am I getting the hang of this?" That blush on her partner's face again caused her to smile wickedly.

"You're gonna be mad if you don't save room for dessert."

Fitting In pt3