Next two chapters! Feel free to comment if you enjoy or (don't enjoy!) the story do far <3 <3
Chapter 7: Dinner
For weeks after meeting Sarah for coffee, Jeff really didn’t know what he was doing. His parents had made all the necessary arrangements with his landlord to front the rent for his old place until new tenants were found, and Jeff now lived in their upstairs guest bedroom (which he refused to call “his” bedroom, since it was temporary), where he spent much of his time sitting and staring into empty space, often drinking as well. He had stopped going out to bars, trying to pick up girls. He wasn’t reading his conspiracy theory book anymore, because he just didn’t have the energy. He had tried to write down some story ideas on a piece of paper, but after just a few scribbles he had weakly pushed the pen through the paper and let it drop to the floor. He had picked up a brick or two of his sculpting mix and attempted to fashion a thing or two, but they just came out as amorphous blobs. The same had happened with his music; he simply had no ideas, no inspiration, no spirit. His appetite had waned even further, and his body grew thinner still. He spent his days mostly lying in his bed, listless, his mind straying into places he was trying to avoid, and yet felt so drawn towards.
What he did know was that Sarah had put some kind of spell on him. That was the only explanation for how he was feeling — it had to be. She was some kind of scientist…she probably knew about chemicals and aerosols and all of that stuff, so she had obviously dosed him with something, right? There could be no other reason why his mind, his life, could be taken over like this. Ever since their brief little coffee date, Jeff’s thoughts seemed helplessly, inevitably drawn to Sarah, to the memory of her body, her smell, her voice, her aura. In just a brief few minutes of interaction, she had turned his mind into a compass that always pointed north, to the North Star, to her.
Of course, Jeff didn’t think specifically in these terms. He was too confused to make much sense of anything that was going on in his head. What he knew was that as soon as he went home after coffee with Sarah, he had masturbated. Not to the porn he usually watched, but to….her. What it was about her, Jeff didn’t know. He couldn’t really explain it to himself. What he began to realize as the weeks went by was that he was masturbating more and more, every day, to the thought of Sarah doing…of her talking — no, that wasn’t it…of her standing over….of her body next to his…he didn’t really know.
What he was vaguely, slowly becoming aware of, was that the idea, the feeling of her looming over him, or of her limbs or body next to his, made him defenselessly aroused, to the point of disability. Jerking off, next to drinking, was now his main preoccupation, and he felt caught in this terrible haze of arousal and self-loathing. He hated this sex-induced paralysis — he should be organizing those meetings! Reading those books! Churning out those beats! And yet any sense of agency, any motivation, was utterly absent. His thoughts alighted on nothing, nothing, nothing, until, unavoidably, they pointed once again, over and over, to Sarah.
The thought of texting her, or even calling her, was constantly on his mind, but he didn’t act. He felt like if he did, he would be lost forever, carried away in a flood of something he could not control, something he despised. The way she had just snapped that hair tie back on her wrist as she walked away…he just couldn’t understand how an action so simple could sum up so much of what he was jerking himself off to every day. He wasn’t even marveling at the size of his cock anymore. Nothing about him was big, nothing. He was beginning to have the slow realization that he had taken a tiny step into a much larger world, one totally incomprehensible to him, one without grounding and swirling with indistinct, huge, and threatening shapes. And he…couldn’t get enough of it.
One late morning, hung over as usual, he woke up to a text from Sarah. “Hi Jeff! It was great seeing you a few weeks ago — I’ve been thinking about you
hope that hip isn’t too bad. Is your surgery scheduled yet? Hit me up! I can have you over to my place. Bring some of your art! <3” That was the extent of the text. But Jeff sat on his bed, hunched over his phone, reading and re-reading it for some time. What did it mean? Was she seducing him? Was this part of her grand plan for ensnaring him? No, that was crazy thinking, this was Sarah! His old neighbor! Smart, cute, funny, little —no, that narrative didn’t work in his head anymore. As much as Jeff had tried and tried over the past few weeks, he could no longer entertain the handsome idea that Sarah was his protege. This concept, even in Jeff’s head, had become absurd. The sheer weight of real-world facts stood in his way. She had her own house, she paid for it all, she was was a scientist, she was…big, she was an adult. He could not think of her as a child anymore.
But once again, as he stood on her front doorstep a few days later, Jeff was feeling, with that old creeping familiarity, very much like a child. Her house was a nice: one story, brick, in a nice part of town, and actually not too far from his parents’ place. So close, in fact, that he had walked, despite his hip. She had a respectable front yard, with shrubs and flowers neatly planted amongst each other. Did Sarah garden too? He held a couple of sheets of printed paper under his arm, the fruits of a few hasty days of typing, and he had in his hand a small, grey attempt at a tree, which he had sculpted out of clay. It was getting towards evening time, and Sarah was making pasta.
He had just rang the doorbell and had stepped back, crippled by the clash between an instinct to run away and another, stronger, less familiar instinct, to stay. He heard her body approaching the door, and he almost ran, but didn’t.
“Hi hi!!” said Sarah as she opened the door, beaming. “Come on in! Oh! I see that you brought me some art, huh?”
Jeff stood entrenched, and simply held out the small sculpture of his tree to her, unable to move otherwise. Compared to his vague, private fantasies these past few weeks, her size was simply unparalleled in person. She must have gotten bigger. Or he had gotten smaller — she stood there in the doorway, seeming to almost fill it completely, despite the fact that her clothes were completely form-fitting. She was wearing a white t-shirt that hung loosely around her stomach and waist, but that was stretched at the top by her breasts and shoulders. Good lord, were her breasts really that big? Her arms were substantial and muscular, but partially softened in a way that made them look feminine. Had she been a swimmer maybe? Softball? And Jeff would have shaken his head and gaped (if he was capable of movement) when he saw that she wore tight black yoga pants that expanded and strained to contain her prodigious curves. Her hips looked twice the size of her waist — surely that was impossible. Her thighs were thick pillars which were the only things that could have possibly supported her massive frame, with an ass that curved around from her thighs and was present, if only glimpsed from the front. She was in her bare feet, and Jeff saw a tiny sliver of flesh, in between her t-shirt and her yoga pants, that was exposed.
Sarah stared at the sculpture a moment, before saying quickly, “It looks great Jeff! Why don’t you come on inside and we can take a closer look, huh? And you’ve got some writing too? Wow, you brought me everything!” She beckoned him with an open-fingered hand, and he shuffled on past her breasts inside. She had moved a bit to let him through, but he still felt squeezed as he moved past her doorframe. As he passed her body, Jeff smelled the unmistakable scent of sandalwood.
Sarah closed the door behind him, turning the lock casually. Her bare feet pivoted back to him on the hardwood floor. “Well, this is my house!” she said, gesturing with her arms and laughing.
“It’s….really nice,” Jeff managed to say. And it was. The front foyer, as well as the kitchen that Jeff glimpsed through the hallway up ahead, were painted a soft white and were all brightly lit with comfortable and homely orange light. To the left was the dining room, complete with a stylish chandelier and a dark wooden table, upon which a few tall candles were lit in a candelabra. Its walls were painted a deep red, and Jeff couldn’t help but feel that Sarah, in addition to her other talents, definitely had a knack for home decor. The smell of basil and garlic completed the cozy domestic portrait.
“Yeah, it’s all I need, really,” said Sarah, looking around. “Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, an actual yard — what’s not to like?”
“Yeah,” said Jeff, fixating on the word “bedrooms.” “Do you…I didn’t know that — um, do you garden?” Jeff stammered as Sarah began walking past him during his question, gesturing with her hand to follow.
“Garden?” she asked as she led him down a bright, wide, and well-lit hallway, “I wish! I just have the landscapers keep it up every few weeks. They do such a good job, don’t you think?”
“I really…yeah, I l-l-liked the flowers and shrubs,” remarked Jeff. He had tried to look at the wall as Sarah led him down the hallway, but he could only stare at the two enormous cheeks of ass muscle that were undulating up and down in front of him, speaking some lewd arcane language that he couldn’t help but understand.
Sarah chuckled softly as she led him on without turning around. “Mmmm, yes, the flowers and shrubs are nice. Well, here’s the kitchen! I’ve got dinner staying warm on the stove. I have a dining room, but that seems kinda weird and formal, right? Let’s just eat in here! Grab a stool and I’ll serve you up a plate; then I can look at that cool stuff you brought. Sound good?”
Jeff achieved a nod and looked at the stools that stood around the kitchen island. The stool was about three feet high, and Jeff had to get on his tip-toes and hop a little bit to get up into the seat, which was rectangular and made a nice curved support for his small frame. His legs dangled a bit after he got himself situated. He put his sculpture and his papers down on the counter, and placed his arms on the counter as well. Sarah had her back turned, serving up plates from the stove, and Jeff quickly realized that he was uncomfortable with his arms as they were. Instead of leaning down and in on his crossed arms like he intended, Jeff found himself pushing his chest into them, because the counter was too high. So he settled for putting his hands on either side of him on the stool, propping himself up a bit in the process. His entire palms fit comfortably next to his butt on both sides of the seat.
Sarah had served up everything and was bringing over the plates: spaghetti and meatballs, steamed broccoli, garlic bread. “Pretty simple food,” she said with a wink, passing him his plate, “But simple goes a long way, right? It’s hard to fuck up a classic dish like this.”
Once again, Jeff had jolted at Sarah’s use of profanity, and she noticed. She laughed as she slid into the stool next to Jeff’s; she actually had to bend down to plant herself on the seat, and Jeff saw that when she was settlted, her thighs and ass filled up the seat completely, spilling amply over both ends of the stool. Her feet also comfortably sat flat-footed on the ground. She wasn’t sitting on the stool like Jeff; she was half-standing, and still, she rose above him over the counter as she placed her chin deliberately in her arms as she faced Jeff. She still had on a ring or two, and a couple bracelets, including, he knew, the hair tie.
“You’re so funny Jeff. I would’ve never pinned you as a guy who cared much about bad words.” She picked up her fork and started twirling her pasta into a large bunch. She looked at him humorously and punctuated her sentence by sliding the fork full of rotated pasta into her mouth.
“Well, no. No, no I don’t care about that,” said Jeff, trying to laugh as he found himself rushing to imitate Sarah and twirl his pasta. “It’s just…it’s just, well…you know….”
Sarah let him hang for a moment longer with a grin as she picked up some garlic bread, before she finally took pity on him and laughed. “Haha, don’t worry Jeff, I’m just kidding around. I know it’s weird to see me like this after so many years. It’s pretty weird for me too, you know.” She crunched into her garlic bread, and Jeff couldn’t help but notice a jolt in his pants as he saw her bright white teeth bared in implication of attack as she went at the bread for a bite or two more. She must have been hungry.
“It’s w-weird for you too?” Jeff asked.
Sarah had reached for her water glass and had already gulped it halfway down before she answered, twirling more pasta with her right hand without looking at it. “Well yeah! I mean you go off to college and we don’t see each other for ten years and when we do, it’s in a hospital, just like, a happenstance.” She ate another large forkfull of pasta, and Jeff realized that he needed to really eat his food. He became suddenly afraid of the prospect of Sarah finishing her plate before him, and started attempting to unceremoniously shovel pasta into his mouth. Sarah looked at him, smiling.
“You know, it’s easier if you do it like this.” She showed him her twirling technique again, which looked so effortlessly performed by her large hand and wrist. Even though she was so much larger than him, her movements were that much more nuanced and delicate.
“Umm…ok, like this?” Jeff tried to imitate her again and achieved a respectable pasta ball at the end of his fork, only to have it slide off in one bunch as he brought it up to his mouth. Jeff felt his heart drop as he looked at his pasta and heard Sarah laughing above him.
“No, silly, like this.” He saw her hand and forearm come into his view as she reached over to his plate with her fork. She tenderly finessed it through some of his pasta and softly gyrated her wrist a bit right and left as she began to twist the spaghetti into a tight ball at the end of her fork that grew and grew with each gentle twirl. Jeff saw the muscles and tendons working softly, subtly in her hand and wrist, and on up through her bare white forearm. His breathing grew rapid as his heart sped up against his will, and he felt the deep red color rising up through his neck and into his face. He began to panic.
But he felt a huge hand snake its way onto his shoulder, neck, and upper back, and squeeze him gently. Sarah hummed deeply above him as she continued twirling, and Jeff imagined that she had closed her eyes. “Shhh, don’t worry Jeff, it’s just pasta. Here.” Jeff realized he had been looking down, and lifted his head up to see a fat bunch of steaming pasta, dripping with tomato basil sauce, presented in front of his face by a large feminine hand. Sarah was holding it up to him, and he turned to look at her, as if asking what to do next. She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“Go ahead, Jeff! Try it!” And he could then do nothing more than open his mouth and try and get the whole bunch in his mouth at once. It was so large, though, that he only really managed to take a bite out of a third of it. He labored to chew, feeling his mouth and cheeks stretched.
“Woah there, a bit too much, actually!” Sarah laughed as she brought the remainder of the bunch to her mouth, quickly withdrawing her clean fork afterward. She had not even seemed to chew. “Why don’t you go for one of those meatballs, huh? Tell me what you think.” Still chewing, Jeff obligingly stabbed into one of the meatballs and brought it up to his mouth, appreciating that he would have to take it in several bites. He bit off what he felt was a respectable chunk, about a third of the meatball.
“Good?” asked Sarah. She had also stabbed a meatball and was easily putting the whole thing into her mouth. She chewed once or twice, swallowed, and was already on her second. “I actually made these from scratch. It’s not really that hard, you know.”
“It’s…wwreawwlly goaouod,” said Jeff through a full mouth.
“Thanks Jeff! I’m glad you like it. Keep on chewing, I don’t want you to choke.” She grinned brightly at him, and he returned her grin as best he could through his packed cheeks.
“Of course, even if you did choke, I know the Heimlich Maneuver,” Sarah said, still smiling as she put down her fork and brought both of her arms around to her front, making a quick fist with one hand as she grasped it firmly with her other hand and tensed up her forearms. Her arms grew impressively before him, and he almost let the food fall out of his mouth. But just as quickly, Sarah was back to her plate, as Jeff continued working his jaw, trying to chew.
“So, what do we have here?” Sarah had stuck a couple stalks of broccoli with her fork and was cooly chewing as she delicately pulled over Jeff’s sculpture with a few of her fingers. Jeff looked blankly at it and did not know what to think or say. It looked like it had been fashioned by someone in third grade. Even in his state of disarray, he was surprised to find himself successfully maintaining some kind of front.
“It’s, um…well, it’s a tree.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Sarah said benevolently, turning it around in interest with her fingers.
“…But it’s not just a normal kind of tree. It’s not a realistic tree. It’s more of an abstract, uh…representation of the idea of a tree.”
“Oh!” said Sarah deeply, raising her eyebrows again as she continued to turn the sculpture around. “I like it. Kind of like the Platonic forms, you know? His Theory of Forms?”
Jeff had bitten into his bread and was chewing again, but stopped a moment, staring at Sarah vacantly.
“You know, Plato? The Greek philosopher?” Sarah asked. She was finishing her pasta off with a flourish.
Jeff had heard this name a time or two before somewhere years ago, so he said, “Oh yeah! Yeah, Plato! Exactly. Yeah…exactly like that.” He paused a moment as he looked from Sarah to his tree sculpture. She had stopped turning it and was now simply looking at it as she stuck the last bit of garlic bread in her mouth. Jeff’s stomach squirmed when he realized that her plate was completely clean. “…And,” he continued after a couple moments, “and…uh, it’s kind of in the modern abstract mode…you know, like from the European school.” Jeff had visited Wikipedia a time or two in the last few days in preparation.
Sarah swirled a long finger around on her plate, collecting a last few bits of sauce before she reached it up to her mouth and sucked on it gently, extracting the flavor, before withdrawing it smoothly.
“Aha! Very cool, Jeff. Very interesting.” She turned to him and looked down at his plate, which was still almost completely full. “Oh! But Jeff, I’ve been making you talk. Eat up! I’m gonna get seconds.” She hopped up cheerfully from her chair and in a couple of strides was already over at the stove. Jeff looked at his full plate, looked at her titanic figure by the stove, looked at his pitiful, sunken gray sculpture sitting there on the smooth marble countertop, and looked at the couple sheets of paper of his poetry that he had brought. Anxiety rose quickly in his chest, and cemented into dread as she returned to her stool with another full plate, giving him a warm smile with widened eyes. She thought he was ridiculous, he was telling himself. She was beginning to see through him. She was beginning to realize…what he had been up to…what he was. But no — even now, Jeff fought back. There was something in him that would not submit, and he suddenly knew that he had to keep her from reading that poetry.
“So…you, uh, own this place, then?” Jeff was proud of his nonchalant tone. “Your parents told me that this place is totally yours.”
Sarah plopped another meatball in her mouth. “Yeah! It’s all mine! Pretty neat, right?” She swallowed and chuckled as she pointed around with her fork. “I mean, of course I have a mortgage and everything, but it actually ends up being cheaper than rent in the long run.”
“You have…a mortgage?” The word sounded so unfamiliar and foreign to Jeff. Sarah laughed at him again.
“Yes, Jeff! That’s what we have instead of rent when we buy houses.” Again, Jeff couldn’t decipher her tone. Was she mocking him?
“Unless you’re like, an oil baron or something,” she continued. “The thing about buying is that you have to put down a big chunk of money first. That money is called a downpayment.” Jeff was encouraged to see that Sarah was enjoying the conversation, and this was the first Jeff was hearing about this kind of stuff; he was actually interested.
“Really? Like how much?” He was feeling more normal by the second as he started picking at his food.
Sarah stretched her arms over her head and flexed in relaxation. Every time she did something like this, Jeff’s skin cooled as he literally felt her shadow over him. She had finished her second plate, and was sighing contentedly. “Well, that depends. Basically the minimum payment you would need to buy a home would be 3.5 percent down with an FHA loan on a 30-year fixed rate mortgage.”
Jeff understood none of this sentence and could only ask, “3.5 percent? Of…uh…of…what?”
Sarah smiled down warmly at him. “Of the full house price. So, like this place was on the market for about $500,000 dollars, which means that the minimum I had to put down was $17,500. But I could actually put up $25,000, so that means my monthly mortgage payments are lower.” Jeff’s head was spinning. This was all so much more money than he could imagine, let alone possess. Sarah was looking at him with a widening grin. She allowed him a few moments before she reached over and poked him in the stomach with a red fingernail.
“Don’t worry about all this stuff, Jeff. It’s just numbers, numbers, numbers. They’re not for everybody. I guess that’s why I’m training to be a scientist, right?” She gestured over to a desk in the corner of the adjacent living room that was piled high with stacks of papers. Above the desk were a number of what looked like charts on the wall. She looked back to him. “But yeah, everyone has their thing, you know? Me, I like numbers, data, facts. You’re more of the…expressive type, right?” She gestured to his sculpture and to the pieces of paper on the counter. Jeff had to keep her away from the poems.
“Well, yes, of course. As an artist, yeah…I find numbers…um, too uh, limiting, you know?” Sarah nodded gently. “Umm,” he continued, looking for an escape, “what are you working on over there?” He pointed to her desk in the other room, and Sarah turned to look.
“Over there? Oh, just some stuff for work. Medical stuff — lots of numbers. Probably nothing you’d be too interested in.” She turned back to the counter, pivoting her large pelvis. Jeff had completely forgotten about the rest of his food and was melting more and more into her body, her presence, her aura. And he could see her looking at the pieces of paper he had brought.
“Oh! Oh, no! Of course I’d be interested!” said Jeff, quicker than he’d have liked to. “I’m always down to….you know…learn new things. Science is cool. I mean, I liked science when I was in school and everything. Space rocks and biology and volcanos and everything. Some really great stuff there.”
Sarah looked at him for a second or two with her affectionate smile, her eyes darting back and forth over his face and his body, as if scanning him. Her mouth was opened a bit in some kind of anticipation, her nostrils gently dilated.
Chapter 8: Wine
“Yeah?” she asked gently, playfully. “You’d be interested?”
“Yeah!” Jeff creased his eyebrows as he tried to smile, nodding his head vigorously in agreement.
“It’s just…that…” Sarah was uncharacteristically hesitant, but she recovered quickly. “Well, it might make you feel weird or uncomfortable because of your upcoming surgery.”
Jeff’s mind couldn’t have been any further from his hip surgery a moment before, and now his mind did a backflip as he tried to process her words.
“Which, by the way!” continued Sarah, “I’m so rude not to have asked — when are you scheduled for? I’d love to give you some information and tips, and, if you want, maybe even guide you through the process. It would make sense, you know? Me training for this kind of stuff and all?”
Jeff hadn’t even gotten the ball rolling on scheduling his surgery, and looked around with panicked eyes, anywhere but Sarah’s face, with his mouth half open. Sarah saw his paralysis.
“Oh, but Jeff! I don’t mean to be pushy. It can be whatever you want, you know? Anything to just make you feel better through the process.” She had taken up his hands in hers, and held them earnestly. His hands were tiny, bony balls of cold skin completely submerged in her paws of warm, substantial, gentle strength. He had to make eye contact now.
“I’m sorry Sarah!” he said in what came out as a bit of a squeak. “I’ve-I’ve jjust…been so…uh so busy that I haven’t gotten around to scheduling it yet.” He felt contrite and embarrassed, as if he were apologizing to a parent, a superior, and her reaction simply confirmed this dynamic.
“Oh, Jeff,” she said seriously, wrinkling her brow and making Jeff cringe by expressing another uncharacteristic sentiment, “you really need to do that asap. Pronto. Like, tomorrow morning. There’s some real danger that your hip could collapse if you go on much longer.” She squeezed his hands a bit tighter, but in something more than earnestness this time. Her pressure carried, for the first time, a real indication of a mild rebuke. All playfulness had vanished from her countenance.
“I—I will! I will!” was all he could say.
She squeezed his hands again. “Make extra sure, ok?” She kept eye contact with him as she nodded her head up and down, encouraging him to join her nod. And then she released him.
“But anyway,” she said, flipping her long mane of blond hair out of her face as she sat up even straighter in her stool, sighing lightly and breathing warmth and sparkle back into the room, “I’m just doing some research on osteoporosis.”
“Osteo…” Jeff wasn’t good with all these big words.
“…porosis, yes,” she said, smiling. “Basically it’s just a word that describes a condition in which the bones become weak and brittle.”
“Is that what’s happening to me?” asked Jeff, feeling certain that the answer was yes.
Sarah laughed lightly. “No, what you have is avascular necrosis of the hip. In a way it’s a kind of localized osteoporosis, but there’s no reason to think…” and she paused a second as her eyes scanned over Jeff’s body, “…to think that it’s anywhere else.…but your hip.” She paused again, curiously and blatantly looking over Jeff’s body. Her eyes flickered a moment and then she met his eyes and smiled. Jeff found himself suddenly wondering how thick her bones were, underneath all that flesh.
“You lookin at my body, Jeff?” came her voice playfully, and his eyes darted up to her face from her stomach. He had been staring at the line of exposed flesh between her yoga pants and white t-shirt that seemed to wink at him. He had been lost in how it spilled solidly over her pant line without losing its shape.
“Uhh..I just…uh,” he stammered, turning red.
Sarah laughed. “Jeff! You’re so funny! I was just looking at your body — you have just as right to look at mine.” She reached over and pinched his left thigh, her thumb and forefinger easily managing to grasp the entire width of his quadricep and squeeze. For her it was a light squeeze, but Jeff yelped and once again almost fell off his stool, feeling like she had literally just lifted up his entire muscle and dropped it back down.
“You’re silly, you know that right?” She had turned away and was going to get something. “I know I’m silly, because I totally forgot I had a bottle of wine that would have been perfect with our meal. I guess it’ll have to be a little after-dinner treat. You drink, Jeff?”
“Oh yeah,” said Jeff. Maybe he could be in his element now. His confidence rose again, and he found his humor. “You could say I know my way around a bottle or two, you know?” Sarah chuckled at him as she brought in a bottle of what looked like an expensive red wine. Her hand was wrapped completely around the bottle, with even a little room to spare. “I like red wine,” she said, getting out two tall wine glasses with her free hand and setting them down. “White wine gives me a headache.”
“Yeah, red wine’s nice,” said Jeff, eager to show off his knowledge. “I’m a whiskey man myself.”
Sarah made big eyes at the wine as she poured. “Oooo, whiskey is it? A lover of the hard stuff, huh? Is that because you’re an artist, Jeff?” She glanced over at him mischievously.
He laughed, managing to believe his answer: “Maybe, maybe.” He saw Sarah glance over at his poems again and remembered that he had to distract her. “But, but Sarah,” he began as she handed him his glass, but she interrupted him with a long hand held up.
“Wait! We have to toast to something. Hmmm, how about to neighbors? That sound good? Cheers to our neighbor reunion!”
“Neighbors!” he assented, and they clinked their glasses together. He took a healthy sip, and was surprised to see Sarah down her glass in one gulp. She seemed excited about something, even flushed, and Jeff realized uneasily that he was getting hard against his will. Something seemed to be happening, some kind of inevitable trajectory, seemed put in motion. He had to stop it.
“So yeah, your work!” he said, taking another gulp of wine. “Tell me about the osto…the bone stuff.”
Sarah had gotten up and motioned for him to follow her into the living room. “Sure, Jeff, let’s just move to the sofa. My ass was getting sore on those stools, you know?”
Jeff didn’t know, but followed, trying not to look at her body moving in front of him. She sat down in the middle of a big, plush, deep red sofa, pulling up her legs as she put her feet on the sofa as well in a casual tuck. Jeff moved to sit in an easy chair close by.
“No, Jeff!” laughed Sarah. “Come over here and sit on the sofa. I won’t bite.” She bared her teeth aggressively and growled, mocking his timidity. “Come on,” she encouraged, patting the sofa next to her feet. He came and sat down awkwardly where she had patted. Her huge hand had left an imprint which he sat right on top of, and he noticed with queasiness that as he looked down from his sitting position he saw the continued imprint of her palm and fingers moving beyond where his butt sat. ‘So she could basically palm his entire butt with one hand,’ he thought. Such musings about size comparison had ceased to be “invasive thoughts” for Jeff. The past few weeks, they had molded with his brain and had begun to partially form his thoughts entirely. He looked up at her — she met his eyes and gave him her warm smile as she looked down at him. With both of them sitting down, he was eye-level with her neck. He noticed she had another full glass of wine, which she was offhandedly sipping. Had she poured herself another one?
“So,” said Sarah, gesturing at empty space with her wine glass, “basically I’m researching why exactly osteoporosis manifests.” Jeff sat back into the sofa and drank his wine contentedly, feeling that they had reached a safe point of equilibrium away from his poems. “Generally we see it in people over the age of fifty, but sometimes we see it earlier. The reasons why are unclear, but that’s exactly what I’m looking into.” Jeff was focused on how much her large frame had sunk into her couch. She looked so comfortable, almost like she was swimming in her sofa cushions. He realized that, unlike hers, his body had sunk into the sofa hardly a bit, even though the sofa itself was quite plush. He wondered how much more she weighed than he did.
“Of course,” continued Sarah lightly with a smile, clearly enjoying this moment of being able to talk about her work, “there are risk factors. Like, for example, women are more likely to develop osteoporosis than men.”
“Really, huh?” said Jeff emptily, staring openly at her huge, shapely legs. He caught himself and raised his eyes to meet hers. “So women have weaker bones than men?”
Sarah’s eyes twinkled and she failed to stifle a grin. “Generally, men have larger bone and muscle mass than women.” Her eyes moved very deliberately, humorously, from his eyes, over her body, then over his, and then back to his eyes, analyzing his reaction. “But there are always exceptions.” ‘So she really was toying with him now,’ Jeff thought, any confidence, any hope of resisting her vanishing.
She continued on quite normally, continuing to gesture at the air. “But there are other risk factors too, you know. Advanced age, family history, a small body frame…all these make it more likely, but they’re by no means definite indicators.” Jeff’s mind had become hazy, and he just focused on his wine now.
“Also,” Sarah kept on, “if you have lowered sex hormone levels, you could be at risk. Like for instance, women who have low estrogen, or men with lowered levels of testosterone are more likely to develop brittle bones. This of course goes along with lowered calcium intake, eating disorders, and any variety of gastrointestinal surgeries that people might have had in the past. Not to even mention, if you take steroids for seizure disorders, cancer gastric reflux, or transplant rejections, that could weaken your bones too. Speaking of which, diseases like cancer, like Celiac disease, like lupus, could be a factor as well. Not to even mention lifestyle choices.”
Jeff’s attention snapped back from Sarah’s gesturing hands and fingers, and the movements of her wrists, to her actual words. He had heard about “lifestyle choices” recently. Maybe from his parents or something. Or maybe from some email a doctor had sent him.
“Lifestyle…choices?” He realized he was grasping his wine glass, so he put it down on the table. Sarah had already put hers down.
“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head down at him curiously. “Three choices, mainly.” Jeff paused anxiously, waiting for her to continue. Her eyebrows went up, amused. “Oh? You want me to tell you, huh?” Jeff nodded. “It’s just…well, you kinda checked out there for a minute,” she said, smiling ironically.
“I’m — I’m sorry, it’s just…” he began, but Sarah giggled over him.
“So tense! Oh my god you’re a little bundle of nerves. Relax, Jeff, I’m playing around with you. Not everyone is interested in this kind of stuff, so it’s natural to check out.”
“O-ok,” said Jeff, still wanting her to continue. She obliged.
Anyway, here are the three main choices. Number one: a sedentary lifestyle.” She held up a long index finger at him. His stomach flipped inside him.
“Number two: excessive alcohol consumption.” She held up a second finger. “Can you guess what the third one is?” She shook her two-fingered hand playfully at Jeff.
“Uhh…I have no idea,” he said.
“No idea,” she repeated softly, almost as if to herself. She put up a third finger. “The third is tobacco use.” In the silence that followed, she lightly shook her three-fingered hand, and her bracelets jingled softly in the space between them. She was speaking in a low voice now, and had moved her body closer to his. “And we know,” she said softly, “that a lack of protein with a generally low body weight make can make bones unable to replenish themselves. That’s what bones do, you know? They’re living tissue; they’re constantly being broken down and replaced. Bad stuff starts to happen when new bone can’t keep up with the removal of old bone.”
Jeff’s face felt like it was a thousand degrees as he kept his eyes fixed helplessly on Sarah’s hips, not daring to look around, or in her face, or anywhere else. All he could do was sit there and take it.
“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you Jeff?” she asked softly.
“No…no idea,” said Jeff, staring at her hips.
“No?” she asked with sudden flirtatious spirit, turning herself on the sofa to completely face him, perching on the twin pillars of her arms, and sitting on top of her folded thighs, “what do you know about Jeff?” Her question was aggressive, and full of energy and life. She was breathing hard at him as her face locked in on his in a searing stare, and even in the soft light Jeff saw the color rising in her face. He grew afraid.
“Of..offf—a, uh..oauff, uhhh…ah,” he stuttered, completely overwhelmed. She let him stutter for a few seconds before she cut in with vigor.
“Do you know about these?” She rose up on the sofa on her knees, towering over Jeff as she she cupped a huge breast in each hand, mashing them together. She sank down again to her thighs. “Or these?” She slapped her thighs hard with her two hands. Jeff began to shake his head. She smiled at him. “Come on Jeff,” she said with quiet vitality, “let’s stop playing pretend.” Se moved up even closer next to him, to the point where her thighs and ass, her entire left side, was touching his. He was hopelessly hard, unmistakably tenting his loose-fitting pants. He saw in a flash, against the deep red of the sofa, the taut black of her yoga pants next to his baggy jeans. His legs were invisible in the folds of his jeans. Her legs were huge, massive things, that would have torn his jeans to pieces. He felt himself beginning to sniffle in despair as her sandalwood scent overcame him.
“Come on Jeff,” breathed Sarah passionately in his ear, continuing to massage her breasts and feel herself up next to him. “C’mon, whatcha got, huh?” She had started to gyrate her massive pelvis, shaking the entire sofa, and Jeff’s entire body right along with it. He looked up at her, a couple of tears shining from his eyes. She looked down at him, still in the midst of her sensuous motions. A smirk appeared on her face as she extended out her tongue at him and flicked it rapidly for a second or two before withdrawing it again. Jeff climaxed in his pants, gasping hopelessly as he was unable to look away from her face.
“C’mon, whatcha got baby?” she asked again, and then a second later she reached out a powerful arm, cupped his head completely in one of her hands, and pulled up his face to her mouth. Jeff found himself engulfed — there was no better word — in Sarah’s wet, warm lips, and he had no choice but to reciprocate the kiss as best he could.
“Mmmmmm,” Sarah moaned down deeply into his body, her open mouth completely engulfing his mouth and some parts of his nose and chin as well. “Mmmmmmmm.” She did this over and over, and Jeff felt her vibrations from the echoing chamber of his small mouth all the way down his neck and spine, through his cock, and through his feet and the tips of his toes. Even though he had already cum, his dick did not deflate one bit. If anything, it became harder.
“Yeah,” said Sarah deeply and calmly, in between breaths. Her initial passion had cooled into methodical control, and she seemed intent on savoring the taste of the inside of Jeff’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s it, buddy. Ohhhhh…ease into it.” He felt her hand adjust the position of his head as he felt her mouth grin against his. “That’s right.” His eyes had been unfocused this whole time, but now they darted up to Sarah’s and Jeff saw that Sarah’s eyes were half-open, softly staring down at him, in serene, luxurious passion.
“Hey there neighbor,” she breathed down at him quietly, beginning to flick her tongue around in his mouth. Jeff’s cock definitely got harder now. What was she doing with her tongue? It was flicking so fast against his tongue, it almost seemed inhuman, obscene. Her tongue’s rapid movement in his mouth made wet sloppy sounds that were very audible in the room, and Jeff felt a quick and blistering buildup in his loins to an unavoidable second orgasm. Sensing his onset, she shoved her tongue deep down his throat, choking him completely. He was unable to breathe or make a sound, and he began flailing his arms in the air in panic. Her huge tongue still inserted down his throat, she made eye contact with him, widening her eyes playfully as she moved her eyebrows up and down, teasing him, mocking him.
And just like that, she had released him, and he fell back into the sofa with a squeal. He was cumming again, and he rushed his hands down to contain the massive erection in his pants, and the visible dark stain that was spreading around it.
Sarah chuckled softly as she reached out her arms lovingly to him, catching him up and cuddling him in her strong embrace. Her grip prevented his arms from moving, and he simply had to lay back into her as she held him, partially in her lap, on the sofa. No words were spoken for several minutes as she gently petted his head, his neck, his shoulders, his back, with one of her huge hands. She even scratched his back some with her long fingernails, and reached up a couple times to scratch around his neck, and once behind the ears. He melted into her, feeling nothing like resistance anymore. He was just beginning to doze when Sarah gave him a pat on the back that said “it’s time” and began to stand up.
“Well, that was a very nice dinner Jeff,” she said as she rose, totally returned to her jovial, playful self. Jeff stood up too, looking up at her looming over him.
She chortled a bit, looking down on him. “And you’re actually not a bad kisser. Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing you again — sometime soon I hope?” She was moving towards the kitchen again. “Do you want to take any leftovers home with you?”
Jeff was utterly confused. Leftovers? Home? He thought after all that he was going to spend the night. Sarah turned to look at him and seemed to understand his mental predicament.
“It’s work-time for me, big boy,” she said, grinning wryly, gesturing to her desk. “I have a lot to do for tomorrow that I’ve been putting off…you know like any good college student. I’m glad your parents live pretty close by here — not a long walk at all for you. Of course I can give you a ride if you want?”
Jeff shook his head. She smiled as she approached him and held out her arms to him in a hug. They embraced, her body, her scent, her energy enveloping his. “But let’s get together again soon, ok?” They parted and Jeff looked down at her calves and feet, not wanting to leave, but not able to say anything. After a few seconds she bent down again to his face level, just as she had done at the hospital, and cupped his chin in her hand, directing it up to her face. “Ok, little thing?” She laughed softly into his ear and flicked it once more with her tongue as she guided him out the door. After another friendly goodbye, the door was closed, and Jeff was staring blankly at the door, then around at her yard as he turned to leave, and then through the night streets as he walked back to his parents’ house in a complete daze, in cum-stained jeans.