The next hour passed very slowly. I glanced at the clock a lot more than necessary as I packed as slowly as I could, trying to waste time. I had changed out of my stupid, hot suit into something more casual.
After I glanced at the clock for the fourth time in one minute, I gave up. I grabbed all of my stuff as fast as I could and rammed it into my suitcase. I was trying to keep my mind off of him, but I failed utterly.
Rory had surprised me when I got back into my room. I found a note, carefully folded in half on the bed, which he had made. I never make the bed in a hotel. All it said, written in his handwriting I assumed, was “Kisses from Rory!” He had drawn little hearts all over it. It made me smile.
I looked at the clock again, unnecessarily. I hoped I wasn’t getting obsessed. 1:58. His meeting should be over any minute.
2:03. Any minute now!
The door opened at 2:07. I was in the bathroom. Of course I was. I heard his voice from in there, rolling my eyes at my bad timing. “I’m in the bathroom!” I called.
“I’ll be in my room, come on over!” he called back.
I knocked on the door, which opened immediately. Then I had my man in my arms. Rory smiled and said, “Sorry I’m late, Dear.
“It’s ok. I’m just glad you’re here now.
“Well, I come bearing gifts. Let me make it up to you.
“Gifts?"
“Of course. I felt like getting something for you. Hang here, and close your eyes.
He took a step away from me as I closed my eyes. Then he kissed me. I didn’t hear him walk back to me. Between kisses, I gasped out a sentence. Rory’s kisses never failed to make me breathless. “This…is a….good….gift.” I breathed.
He pulled back for a second, saying that this wasn’t the gift. I was now intrigued.
“On second thought, come over here to my bed,” he said.
He led me over with my eyes closed, setting me down on it. I heard him chuckle again. “Keep your eyes shut!” he warned.
I put my legs up on the bed, laying my head back on the biggest pillow, sitting up. My belly was still stuffed from lunch. I could feel it sticking out of the bottom of my t-shirt, and I reached down to pull it down.
I didn’t make it. Rory crawled up on top of me, and when he told me to open my eyes, I was looking straight into his eyes. I marveled at how close they were to the color of milk chocolate. His face was an inch away from mine. He kissed me again.
He pulled back once more, “I think I could kiss you all day and not get bored,” he said, shaking his head. “And I think it’s time for your gifts. I hope you like chocolate and cherry, it was all they had."
“Chocolate and cherry what?” I asked, confused.
“Chocolate éclairs and cherry donuts, of course. I hope you like them…,” he said.
“Oh! Yeah, I love pastries. But I just ate, Love.” I said.
“Oh…” he sighed. “It’s fine, Dear. When you’re hungry.” The disappointed look on his face was awful. I caved.
“You know, I actually am a little hungry, Love. I could eat.”
His face lit up and he went over behind his giant lime-green suitcase on the table. “I hope I got enough!” he said.
He pulled out a pile, artfully placed on a plate. There was at least twenty. He certainly had enough. I reached down and unbuttoned my jeans right there while his back was turned.
He crawled up onto the bed, carefully supporting the heaped plate. He settled down next to me and brought the top donut to my lips. I parted them and took a nice big bite out of it. It was delicious, of course.
I was through the first five in just a few minutes. Rory kept a constant stream of them, I finished one and another was already there to take its place.
“Do they taste alright?” he asked after the sixth one was gone.
I nodded, my mouth was full.
“I’m glad. Are you feeling ok? I don’t want you to get sick just to avoid hurting my feelings.”
“I’m fine,” I mumbled though another bite of éclair.
He brought another one to my lips. I was really starting to get overstuffed now. I was full before we started! I slowed down without thinking about it, chewing slowly; more carefully.
“Are you starting to get full, dear?” he asked. He missed nothing.
“A little,” I mumbled through my bite of donut.
“Well,” he said, smiling crookedly, “there’s only a few left now. You can make it through these, can’t you? I don’t want you to be hungry; it’s going to be a long flight home.”
He took one and put it to my lips. I smiled; jelly filling on my teeth, frosting smeared all over my upper lip, and bit into it. He smiled again, saying, “There you go, Hon. I’ll help you out.” He picked one up, eating it in a few quick bites. He never faltered in keeping one to my lips.
I was extremely uncomfortable now. My gut, in all its round, hairy glory, was clearly sticking out of my shirt. The traitor shirt had ridden up past my navel. He asked me if my tee was uncomfortable. I nodded, and he pulled it off of me. I sighed, my belly dropping and resting on my lap. I burped fantastically.
I finished the last donut. There were two éclairs left. Two huge, long éclairs. I didn’t think I could make it. He picked up on my apprehension. “You can do it, dear. I’m sure you can. There’s only two left.”
He lifted one to my face. I looked at him, and he pushed it against my lips lightly. I sighed and closed my eyes, opening my mouth. He did almost all the work. All I had to do was open my mouth and chew.
I opened my eyes a few bites in. I caught Rory licking his lips, and I noticed that Rory’s skin was flushed again. I figured out yesterday that when his skin was flushed he was hard. I smiled at the idea and forced myself through the last few bites of that one. One more to go.
“Here,” Rory said, sensing that I was close to my limit, “I’ll rip this one in half and eat part of it for you.”
“No,” I said firmly, “I want it all. Come on, Love. Give it to me!”
His jaw dropped as I reached out for it. He scrambled to grab it, putting it right to my face. I took a huge bite, chewing quickly and swallowing. I burped again, and I felt a little better. I took another few bites. Rory was clearly rock-hard now, his skin getting more and more red. The front of his pants was bulging out. I smiled again at him and grabbed his slim wrist, shoving the rest of the éclair into my greedy mouth. I chewed, swallowed, and was kissed instantly as I was done.
He kissed me with more passion then he ever had, carefully avoiding my stuffed belly. It felt like it was going to burst, but I wasn’t one to throw up. I was fine, just very uncomfortable. He pulled himself onto my lap, leaning over my gut, bracing himself on the headboard. He kissed my jaw line and licked frosting off of my upper lip. I parted my lips, feeling his tongue slip into my mouth.
He laughed. “Your mouth tastes like jelly!”
“It should! I just had like twenty of them!” I groaned back. Speaking was a little tough.
“Are you in pain?” he said, aghast.
“No, no. I’m just a little shocked I ate so many pastries in one go. How many were there? I guessed like twenty.”
He laughed. “Thirty five. I’m as shocked and impressed as you; I wasn’t expecting you to be able to eat all of them.”
He rubbed my belly for about a half an hour. He’d kiss me every single time his kneading coaxed out a burp. I started feeling better. My gut deflated a little and went from being rock hard to soft and malleable. His hands were strong from years of masturbation, he explained. I was putty in his capable hands, and it felt incredible.
“You have no idea how good that feels,” I said, as the front of my underwear swelled.
“You have no idea how fun it is to play with,” he countered, kissing my nipple again.
“Hey, Rory?”
“Yeah, Dear?”
“I…I…” I sighed, gathering my thoughts.
He put his finger to my lips, cutting off my stammering. “I love you, Jared. I love you.”
That cleared my thoughts. “I love you too. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on,” I said, quoting one of my favorite books.
He beamed at me and helped me shimmy down. We set the alarm for 6:30, and he cuddled up to my warm, stuffed gut. We drifted off to sleep together.
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