#anon fantasy

After getting in the second time, "I hope you didn't see that!"

"No, but I hear that!" With his hand at his chest, he points to your boisterous bare belly.

"Oh! Tee!" Giggling, while you cover your face with your hands. "So, what'd d'you want t'show me?" Swaying your hips.

"Y-uh-a-YouTube video!" Fumbling his words.

"Sure thing!" You pull up YouTube. Since it's already logged in, it shows videos it thinks we want to see. This time, it's a load of food channels. Your mouth waters, as you swallow an empty promise, your middle howling something fierce.

"That sure look good... I've never had real curry." Although clearly not curry, he hovers over a Asian channel and it begins to play a woman stuffing red noodles and hard-boiled eggs in her mouth. With drool ready to drip on Pierre, you remind him that he's supposed to show you a video. He searches some funny cat videos and you two spend some time laughing about them.

Mere and I prepare the lunch we're all supposed to have. They brought goodies from their garden, while I make a flavored mayo to go on the sandwiches.

"It's times like this I wish I could just... bite into this head of lettuce, plastic and all."

I turn around, a little shocked by the conversation opener. Dressed in a white long sleeved, v-neck crop top, she's holding the plastic wrapped produce and her stomach.

"A wee bit hungry, are you?"

"Yeah, Pierre didn't get up until about 11. I was waiting for him to get up so we could eat together. I got a little distracted, as I was counting on him to wake up in time. So we left without breakfast." She empties out a bag onto the counter, "I need a strainer so I can wash these tomatoes!"

" 'scuse me." Crouching beside her, I hear the moaning of her guttural abyss.

"I'm sorry! She's trying to embarrass me!" Patting her noisy belly.

"It's quite alright, my partner's tummy seems talks to me more than she does!" I laugh, "I'm kidding of course!"

"Ours are always hollering at us! From forgetting meals, to eating unhealthily, our ears sure take a beating!"

I've knelt here for a few moments, seemingly lost.

"The strainer, Ben." Mere's green eyes burn into my soul.

Crumbling whatever dream I had brewing, I swiftly place the perforated bowl in the sink.

"Though we should try our ingredients... we ought to save every bit so everyone can enjoy it together." Mere declares, contradicting her earlier leafy desire.

"Apparently, I'm the only one to have had any breakfast. I'll be fine!"

Working well without communicating very much, simply aware of each others' actions, the kitchen is momentarily engulfed in controlled chaos.

My hands are occupied when she asks for something that happens to be above my head. I motion to where it is, and as her reach stretches her abdomen, it roars demanding a preemptive treat.

"That was really hot..." I whisper.

"What?" Mere asks honestly, as she makes a ruckus trying to grip something on the top shelf.

"That was really loud!" Forcing a laugh.

"Oh, yeah, I felt that one!" Returning to her task. "Getting really hungry!" Oddly, in an excited tone.

The two of you walk in giggling in talking about some silly kitty you just witnessed.

Pierre states, "I don't know about you guys but," he lifts up his polo and audibly pats his humble chub. "I'm ready to eat!"

He seats himself at the dining table. You bring plates to the table before sitting down. Mere and I bring the ingredients and place then all down the "build-you-own-sandwich." All the fixings on separate plates, a couple choices of bread. Various cheese, meats, and vegetables leave no speck of wooden table uninhabited.

Pierre digs in first, while Mere and I delicately build our masterpieces. You, however, look longingly at the buffet.

Since we're diligently fabricating, and Pierre is focused on leaving no scraps. You're able to remain unnoticed until Mere asks you to pass a dish. Somehow, there's no tomatoes left. Pierre has three slices on his plate, one in his mouth, and the rest on his second sandwich.

Turning to the culprit you receive a comment,

"What?" He playfully barks, "They're deliciously grown in our backyard! And your partner's seasoned mayo is perfection!" Chomping, as you travel to the kitchen.

You have to cut more slices. Being famished, it's hard to maintain control, so you take longer than expected. Still distracted, Mere happily thanks you.

"Hey!" getting you to stop. She quickly admires your slender body. In this short time, your stomach hollers.

"I'm sorry!" scurrying to your seat in humility. After you sit at an empty plate, Mere finally notices, and asks

"Where's your sandwich? You must be starved!"

"Yeah! -'s real' g-d!" Pierre sort of says with his mouth full.

"Gross Pierre!" I scold him, "quit being so barbaric!"

"Does this dirty Frenchman bother the prude American?" Maximizing his frenchiness.

"Nooo.." I sigh, "food is only pretty before its eaten."

"Then," He takes a large bite, "D-n't l-k!"

I groan, as the ones with food continue to eat.

Using the oldest trick in the book, you excuse yourself, and retreat to the bathroom to listen to your body try to convince you to feed it.

Timed well with when our bellies satiate, you reappear to help clear the table. Although we don't wash the dishes, we at least transport them near the sink.

Returning to the clean table, we set up our first set of party games. With your hunger momentarily absent, we're able to get quite a few games done.

The party moves to the living room where everyone plops themselves in a seat.

We talk a bit about noteworthy events in our lives before you blurt out, in an effort to hide more tummy embarrassment,

"Let's play truth or dare!"

"O-Okay?" Accepting of the request, but equally irked from being interrupted.

Reaching a lull after the popular questions, Mere finally addresses the elephant in the room.

"What's with the mic attached to the TV?

"I, uh, I-it-it's from work!" I stammer.

"No, but like, what's it for...?" Both Pierre and Mere edge their seats, as your eyes widen.

"Come on, you gotta tell us!" Pierre toys, "you picked truth!"

After a moderate exhale, I affirm, "It's to listen to our tummies when they're being noisy. Now," shifting in my seat to spin the bottle. It lands on Pierre, "I dare you to use it."

He grabs it off the center table and I flick on the entertainment system.

His belly is stuffed, and is seemingly very happy about it. Countless pops and squelches fill the room. For about a minute he allows the mic to amplify his vigorously churning gut, before spinning the bottle.

"I was hoping it'd land on you." He gets up and hands it over to you. "Do it."

Blushing, you oblige. You stuff the mic into your tummy, constricting it even more. Vehement, ravenous, and mournful howls blare out the sound system. We all avidly enjoy the decadent desperate discord for a decent duration before it dies down.

You gingerly spin the bottle. It lands between Mere, but plainly favoring Pierre.

"Are you guys... into this?"

Giving me a look, I somehow read your mind. I bring up a recording.

Skipping through a few, I stop on one that has an still image of me with one hand holding up a shirt, and the other covering my belly button.

"This was close, but not quite, three days. It's an edited five minute video."

After, I play a similar still, but of you.

"Ah yes, I fasted for," Holding up your hand, "Five days! FIVE!! I really did!"

"Yeah! It was really incredible! It starts with a couple on day two, but it's mostly the following days!" Mere's mouth is agape, Pierre's been squirming in his seat since he handed you the mic.

"Pierre," slapping his thigh, "That, was sexy. Why can't mine ever beg like that!?"

"Probably because after the first night, you turn into Godzilla!" Pierre harshly retorts. "I, however, can go more than one measly night!"

"To me, it's the first night that's the biggest hurdle." I confess. "She," directing a thumb your way, "seems to have little issue being, and staying empty."

A rosy smile confirms it to be true.

"Even though it landed on Pierre, I'm spinning it" it stops just past Pierre. She blows at the nose, causing it to roll ever so slightly.

"Eh, it was for the sentiment," she shrugs, "let's all go out for "dinner," and not feed her." Using her fingers and quotes.

"Sounds good to me!" I laugh, you quietly chuckle, while Pierre is silent.

"Oh come now, Pierre." Mere frivolously pegs at him, "They're nice people, don't be ashamed!" Nudging him with an elbow.

"Hah! Gotcha!" He leaps up and points at you.

"Let's tell the server it's your birthday!!"

You, we, are unsure if that was a request or a joke.