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Never Play with your Food

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Keith Scott was food. Julie Tchort reminded herself of this every day, but it was still becoming more and more difficult to remember, at least sometimes. Of course, on one level it was easy – he was getting more and more delicious every day, with all the food Julie managed to stuff into him. On days when she couldn’t make him a large, greasy breakfast sandwich and generous bagged lunch herself when he stopped by her bakery before opening his auto shop, he’d stop in after work for coffee or hot cocoa, and Julie usually managed to stuff almost a dozen day-old pastries into him, and send him home with more, if he wasn’t joining her for a home-cooked meal that night.

And her efforts had certainly paid off. Keith had gone from a muscular, rather thickly-built man with the slightest of beer guts to a man who was definitely plump, and running steadily toward fat. He still went around in as many of his old clothes as he could, and routinely looked ready to burst out of his flannel shirts and jeans. His belly had ballooned into a full spare tire with a second layer bulging against the zipper of his pants, and he had new softness under the scruff of his jaw and neck that would later become a double chin. Even his fingers looked fatter.

This had become an unforeseen problem. Julie had always known that her sexual tastes ran toward fatness – one reason it was hard to find love among other forever-skinny ghouls – but she’d underestimated the effect that seeing Keith get bigger would have on her. He’d always been charming, for a human, in an earnest and quintessentially American sort of way, but now he was rapidly becoming more and more…well…hot.

When she’d first met him, Julie had known their relationship would never involve actual sex. There was no way she was wasting her first time on a meal, and besides, what kind of precedent did that set, having sex with every human she fattened up? It was a ridiculous thought.

But as her relationship with Keith progressed, Julie began to feel less and less convinced of the idea’s impossibility. Keith was the kindest man she’d ever met. He always treated her like a queen; was grateful for every little thing she did for him. It made Julie want to take care of him and spoil him; she knew he’d taken on responsibility for helping to raise his nephew, and she knew he’d been rejected, and lonely, and even abused, several times in his life. It just didn’t seem fair, and anything she could do to make him feel happy and appreciated and relaxed seemed only right.

Besides, he had such an unfortunate habit of being a sweet, caring boyfriend. Tonight, he’d arrived at her door in a clean shirt, but Julie’s sensitive nose could still pick up traces of motor oil and beer. She didn’t mind in the slightest; they were “Keith” smells, though she sometimes worried about how much he drank. He’d remembered that her favorite kind of flower was daisies – people always assumed it would be something more gothic, like red roses or deep purple calla lilies, and admitting it was daisies was somewhat embarrassing for a being like her – and he had a fresh bouquet of them now, as well as a bottle of her favorite red wine. Julie bit her lip as she put the flowers in water and checked on the boeuf bourguignon. Between the snugness of the clean shirt he’d put on, and his little gifts, she knew that stuffing him full of rich food tonight would likely turn into long kisses between bites of stew or cake, and then Keith sleeping over in his underwear so she could curl up beside him for the warmth he gave off. As much as Keith did eat these days, it was challenging to get all the way through a date night meal without giving in to her own urges, especially when she sat on his lap to feed him by hand. Sometimes she could feel him harden under her. That only made the temptation worse.

“It smells so good,” Keith said, gazing up at her fondly while Julie plated his first helping. It was the kind of look that, to Julie’s own consternation, always made her legs feel like jelly. “I can never get over how nice it is, getting cooked for like this. I should return the favor sometime.” He paused, looking a little unsure of himself. “I can do spaghetti and meatballs. Meat sauce, at least. Probably.”

“There’s no need,” Julie promised, setting down his plate and using the opportunity to hug his meaty, muscular shoulders from behind, her mouth watering as she did so. She could hear the rush of his blood through the arteries and veins of his thick neck, but she could also feel his soft, warm skin. She rubbed his belly and chest, tucking her head into the curve of his neck, indulging herself for a few minutes.

“You know I love to spoil you,” she added truthfully, kissing his scruff.

He surprised her, reaching up behind himself to pull her in for a longer kiss on the lips. “I got so lucky,” he murmured, to himself as much as to her, and Julie felt herself start to get wet.

“I can feed you,” she announced, climbing up onto his lap just a bit too eagerly, snuggling up to his belly and lifting a bite of stew to his lips, feeling the plumpness of his thighs; how his belly pressed against her.

Keith’s hands slid up to rest on her hips. Oh, his hands. They were calloused, so different from most vampires’ hands, and so very large. But even with their size and the new thickness of his fingers, Keith’s hands still moved nimbly, to stroke her hair or tickle her neck or massage her back after a long day before the hot oven. It made Julie’s toes curl.

He was licking wine and extra stew off those lips now, and Julie felt a sudden and irrational jealousy toward his spoon. Just fill up his belly for the night. Then you can kiss him as much as you want.

“So good,” Keith murmured between eager bites, and Julie felt ready to burst with pride. She’d never felt so desperate for any human’s approval before, but Keith made her feel like some insecure human teenager in high school.

“It’s a good beef stew,” she said proudly. “With potatoes. Just like you like.”

“I do,” he agreed. “You know me so well, baby,” and then he was kissing her again.

Somehow, they made it through three bowls. By the time Keith drank up the last of the third, it was between constant kisses, and Julie could feel his belly pinning her against the table edge. Somehow, her skirt was hiked up around her thighs as her legs straddled his lap. She could feel he was hard through his trousers.

Julie gulped the rest of her wine and took a deep breath. “Keith, will you…take me to bed tonight?”

“Of course,” he said, and she could see their normal routine playing out in his expectations…until he realized what she meant. “Really, Julie? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Julie said, more decisively than she felt. I’m in lust for him, and he’s mine – my human, my prey. Why shouldn’t I fuck him?

He gathered her up into his warm arms. “Where?”

“The bedroom, please,” Julie murmured, muffled slightly by his bulk.

She couldn’t contain the squeal when he lifted her up in a bridal carry, huffing just slightly over his full stomach, and took her to the bedroom. By now, her prey should be avoiding exertion, growing lazy and soft and tender, but Keith kept working, and stayed strong despite his new flab. And Julie hated how much she loved it.

She always wore lacy lingerie for their dates, as a confidence booster if nothing else, and now she was thankful for that as she stripped off her dress and kicked off her heels. Keith looked down at her, pants most definitely tented, staring in a way that made Julie feel like the one being hypnotized and enchanted here. “You’re so beautiful,” he remarked. “Like a doll or…or marble or something. Like a statue. A piece of art.”

Julie felt a pink blush spreading itself over her features. “Please be gentle,” she managed. “I’ve never…I just never really…it’s never really happened for me before…”

Keith’s brow furrowed. “You’re a virgin?” he confirmed.

Julie tried not to scowl; the word was so juvenile, so different from the sophisticated image she tried to present. “Yes,” she said, trying not to sound defensive.

A bit of defensiveness must have come through, though. “It’s okay,” he told her, in that genuine Keith way that instantly softened Julie’s temper. “I’ll do my best to make it good for you.”

“Wait,” Julie heard herself say as he began undressing. “Can you…can you do it more slowly?”

Keith looked bashful and a little uneasy at the prospect of showing off his new, chubbier form, but he nodded, unbuttoning his pants to let his belly sag free, before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging out of it slowly. Julie watched the show, wondering whether she could touch herself to the sight, until Keith pulled off his underwear.

“Oh my,” she couldn’t stop herself from murmuring.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, climbing onto the bed.

“It’s fine,” Julie promised with more confidence than she felt. Except that your dick is huge and I have no idea how the whole thing is going to fit inside me.

Keith lay down next to her, starting to kiss her again as he reached back to unhook her bra. “Try to relax,” he murmured between kisses. “We can always stop if you’re not ready.”

Julie nodded, tracing patterns in his chest hair as he rolled on a condom. She could smell his scent even clearer now; she tried not to noticeably snort it like perfume or cocaine. “I know. It’s okay.”

“Can I get you ready for me?” he asked, lips traveling down, nipping at her breasts and sucking on one nipple. “Can I touch you down there?”

Julie found her voice. “Yes, please.”

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched her there besides herself. Keith’s fingers were so different – so thick (I wonder what they’d be like inside me) and so warm. At first, she could control herself, but when his hand neared her clit, Julie gasped, arching off the bed. In a second, she felt strong arms around her. “It’s okay,” Keith promised. “You don’t have to stay in control. You can let go.” She managed to nod.

“Can you…put them inside me?” she whispered. “I just…”

“Of course,” he agreed, ghosting one fingertip around her rim, before inserting it slowly. Julie felt her body tighten, and then relax and stretch around it, while he kissed her more.

“Can I try something out?” he asked, and Julie nodded…and then found herself deserted as Keith crawled to the foot of the bed. He spread her knees, and crawled between them.

“What” – Julie began, and then the rest of the question was lost, as Keith started nibbling on her inner thighs, and then lapping at her folds. “Ahhh! Keith” –

“Is this okay?” he asked, grinning up at her from between her legs, and Julie felt like kissing the mischievous smirk off his face.

“Keep going,” she growled. She hoped it sounded like a growl, and not like a plea.

He didn’t need to be told twice, cupping her ass and squeezing it as he held it in place, while Julie squirmed, feeling her own wetness starting to trickle down.

“Ready for me?” he asked finally, and despite her memory of that cock, Julie still nodded desperately.

He straddled her and entered slowly, giving her a few seconds to adjust before he kept moving in. Julie gasped between kisses – she could taste herself on his lips, and it was filthy and so good – and squirmed, reminding herself of a bug on a pin. “Is it okay?” Keith murmured.

Julie nodded again. “Yes, it’s…it’s good…” He was so hot, and hard, and big – his warmth was all around her, and now it was inside her.

His pace got quicker, but he compensated by fingering her, and Julie nuzzled into his scruff and the hair on his chest, wanting to lose herself in his warmth and scent.

Still, the thought entered her head that the prey – the food – was fucking her. She’d given her first time to a human – she’d given herself to a human. Humiliation burned hot in her stomach, but it just heightened the thrill she was already feeling. He was over her, and he was fucking her so deeply, so thoroughly. His weight was holding her down, and as he got bigger he’d only get more and more formidable. The thought sent her over into climax, but the waves of orgasm only made her want more.

“Faster,” she begged. “Harder. I…I can do it…”

Keith sped up obediently, getting rougher until Julie wrapped her arms around his thick shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist. She imagined being the prey, held down by a strong, hairy predator while he had his way with her. “Bite me,” she whispered. “On…on the neck, or something, can you try…?”

Keith gasped out something that sounded like assent, nibbling her neck and scraping teeth along her throat. Julie couldn’t stop herself from crying out.

“Oh, I’m yours,” she moaned as his pace increased; his own orgasm was probably approaching, which was fine because Julie was close to coming again herself. “Please fuck me, use me, I’m all yours, sir…daddy…please…”

He was coming inside her, and the knowledge sent Julie over the edge a second time, sagging back on the bed as he withdrew and rolled over beside her, wrapping them both in the black bedclothes.

“Was it good for you?” he asked, cuddling her close. Julie nodded, not even sure she could speak at the moment. “I thought it might be,” he added with a note of half-joking smugness in his voice. “You weren’t speaking English at the end there. Was that Sirbanian?”

Julie shrugged against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as her eyelids grew heavy. She had no memory of switching languages. “Got to grab the cake…”

“Skip dessert. You can make me an extra-big breakfast tomorrow,” he said, combing his fingers through her hair and down her back. “So soft and pretty.”

“So’re you,” Julie muttered, already half-asleep.

“Love you,” he murmured before dropping off to sleep, and Julie didn’t even have time to process the words, and their significance, before she was asleep too.