i like tummies

My man. Massive, soft, a source of comfort for me. I love him so I feed him, and he loves me so he eats and protects me and cuddles me as much as I want.

The door knocks and it makes my heart race. I hate answering the door, my anxiety is just so bad these days. Maybe because my man’s here to enable me, to answer the door for me and then consoling me with big, doughy arms — biceps, coated in delicious fat — and a soft chest for me to bury my face into, a large belly for me to rub and squeeze to settle my nerves.

And it’s silly. I was the one who ordered this takeout, all for him, as a treat from my home cooking, but he has to answer the door with me hiding behind him and clinging onto his shirt. I insist it’s because the knocks were super loud and sudden, but he’s worried and sympathetic regardless.

“Come here, baby.” That’s all I need from him to be taken in by his soft, warm embrace. He’s like a mattress. He’s my man.

Actually, can you just eat this for me? You know I don’t like sending things back. It’s my fault for ordering it anyway. No I don’t want to swap. I’m not in the mood for steak.

Oh, god. The liqueur in this tiramisu is so strong, and it’s so big. I can’t eat this if I’m meant to drive back. I know that you think it’s fine, but I can’t hold my alcohol as well as you, big [guy/girl].

Can you finish it for me? I know I’ve only had two bites of food all night but that hasn’t left me starving, silly. Speaking of, are you still hungry? We can get some coffee or sorbet as a palette cleanser before we leave. Yeah let’s do that, it sounds fun!

What are you, a memory bank? How can you possibly remember that I don’t like sorbet. Well maybe I’ll like this sorbet. Not all sorbets are the same, babe.

Ugh, you’re right. I don’t like sorbet. Finish it off for me again? Thank you, baby.

You’re looking a lil full there. Maybe it’s time to leave. I’ll go pay, you go out to the car, here’s the keys.

There we go, all paid for! Oh, and I got some tiramisus to take home with us. Tuck in, but leave me a little bit, okay?

…You ate all of it? Couldn’t stop? Oh, dear, you look ready to burst. Poor [boy/girl/baby]. Well, you should have stopped yourself! Silly thing.