The Best Damn Breakfast (Iris and Sam Part 4) (Patreon)

Corinna’s was everything a breakfast joint should be. The hostess, May, greeted Sam warmly and was excited to see he’d brought someone with him. “He always comes alone and it’s just not right for such a handsome man to have to eat alone.” May winked at Iris as she set down the menus on their table. Sam loved watching a flush creep into her cheeks. “Make sure he paces himself, sugar. He went too fast a few weeks back and only made it halfway through his meal.” Sam could see the gears of Iris’ imagination whirring. He could only guess that she was treating herself to images of him stranded in his seat, beached by his own appetite. “And order something nice for yourself. You’re so teeny he’s gonna make you fall right on your behind when you try and help him up.”

The hostess left both of them looking at each other shyly. “Do…” Iris paused and cleared her throat. “Do you really need help up after a meal here?”

Sam looked at her with a smirk that had her melting in her seat. “You’ll just have to see, won’t you?” 

“Such a tease.” 

“There’s more where that came from.” He covered his mouth with his hand as he suppressed a belch. “Excuse me. I may have overdone it at Eclair’s. Not gonna stop me from trying to go all-out here, though.” He flipped through his menu quickly. He had it memorized and was only looking through to finalize his breakfast choices. Iris took her time. She was too jittery to eat much and wound up only ordering cut fruit and a glass of water. The waitress then turned to Sam, looking ready to write a novel-sized order down. Sam glanced over at Iris. She looked beautiful and so eager and expectant that he was certain his order was going to make her fall off her chair. He was ready to see the dazzled look on her face he’d seen the first day she’d watched him eat.

He rattled off his lengthy order, which was about half the menu. He watched Iris’ chest rising and falling faster with each item. When he saw her bite her lip as he ordered a shake--“extra thick”--he could feel himself getting hungrier. His belly emitted a gurgle right then, signifying that it was making room for his feast. He smiled at Iris and then thanked the waitress. Once she left with their menus, Sam leaned back in his chair, sighing happily with his hands laced together behind his head. “God, I love cheat day.” His gut growled again. 

Iris breathed the words “me too” in a barely audible whisper. Her cut fruit was delivered to their table soon after and she took nibbles here and there, composing herself. 

Sam took this moment of quiet to ask her about her work. “What’s the most recent article you’ve published?” 

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! It’s actually really interesting. To me, anyway. I wanted to talk about the proliferation of works that emphasize scarcity of resources, particularly in post-apocalyptic works and comment on the social climate that champions these sorts of works and how they feed into each other. I focused a lot on The Walking Dead comics and other zombie fiction because the hunger of the protagonists is often so well-mirrored by the hunger of the undead around them.” She continued on as the waitress returned and set down Sam’s meals.

He was halfway through his second plate when he swallowed and paused. “So, you think that so-called ‘diet culture’ is what makes post-apocalyptic fiction so popular?” 

“I do. A culture built around deprivation needs ways to validate itself and its participants. Narratives about hunger being part of surviving in an unforgiving environment are really validating when you’re depriving yourself on a consistent basis. The post-apocalyptic genre is a more extreme version of what many people already live with and worry about already. The zombie subgenre is interesting in that it provides a critique of the attitude that always being hungry makes you better somehow. Purposefully or not, the concept of being perpetually hungry is linked with being a mindless zombie.” Sam ate a particularly large mouthful of pancake and Iris stuttered. “Th-that’s what I wrote, anyway.”

He swallowed. “I like it. I’ll have to keep all this in mind next time I watch Doomsday Preppers.” Iris smiled shyly and ate a bit more of her fruit. “Do you want to try any of this? I’m happy to share a few bites.” 

Iris shifted in her seat. She was considering something. Her big brown eyes fluttered and she looked quietly confident. “If I don’t see every bite of what you ordered make it’s way into your mouth, I’ll be very disappointed.” She paused for another moment, weighing her words. “If I eat any of it, it’ll make it harder for me to estimate your calorie intake. I may be an English professor, but those kinds of numbers give me all sorts of good feelings.” 

Now it was Sam’s turn to feel shy and out of sorts. He could feel blood rushing to inconvenient places. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she might like to do with him once he couldn’t eat another bite. He’d known girls like her before. One liked sitting on his lap, lifting his belly off his thighs so they could feel it resting on top of their own thighs. Another liked to have him lie on his back while she straddled his gut. That had been somewhat painful, but watching her pleasure herself against his dome-like stomach had made it mostly worth it. The way Iris was looking at him, he was sure she’d definitely considered both of these scenarios and many more. He was dying to know exactly what she was planning. 

But he couldn’t dwell. For all that he was dying to spirit her out of the restaurant and toss her into the spacious backseat of his truck for some fun, he also wanted to take full advantage of his cheat day. Her reaction as he took another bite and then told her “I’ll give you record-breaking numbers to ponder over” assured him he’d made the right choice.

///

The rest of the day passed in a food-packed blur. Between meals he’d drive around and show her areas she hadn’t seen before and let things digest. By the time dinner was done, he was sure he’d burst. Iris couldn't take her eyes off of him. His appetite was like nothing she’d ever seen. He’d been eating and drinking almost non-stop since they had met for morning donuts and his stomach had expanded into a rock-hard ball of food and blubber that seemed almost twice its original size. 

As they walked to his truck, he was a little wobbly. He was food drunk, of course, with most of the blood in his body diverted to his digestive system. But he’d also gotten tipsy on a few spiked chocolate shakes. Iris felt herself getting warmer every time he belched, which was about every forty seconds. “Sam?”

“Yes?” He hiccuped and grinned salaciously at her. 

“I think I should drive.”

“But the truck’s too *hic* big.” He rubbed a hand over his midsection. “And you don’t know where I *hic* live, gorgeous.”

Iris blushed. “I can get directions. You’re too drunk.”

Sam paused and leaned his face in close to hers. “Mmm. This is why I do cheat days at home.” He hiccuped again and groaned. “But you’re right. I may be drunk and too full to walk, but I’m not *hic* dumb.” He fumbled for his keys and handed them to her. “Here. Address is 1668 Bintel Street. It’s big and old. You’ll like it.”

She helped him into the passenger seat and then climbed up into the driver’s seat. She had to use the front tire as a stepladder because it was so high up. She got everything adjusted so she could drive and then headed toward his home.

///

Sam hadn’t been inaccurate when he called the house big and old. It was an old Victorian that, as far as Iris could tell in the dark, looked to be in excellent condition. She pulled up into the driveway and marveled at the size of it before getting out to walk Sam to the front door. 

On his front steps, he thanked her for coming. “I know it’s a weird first date. But I enjoyed myself.” He put a big hand on her lower back. “And I’ve enjoyed you.” 

She took a step forward, her chin tilting upward. “It was exactly my brand of weird.” She stood up on tip-toes and pressed her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her as he pulled her in closer. The kiss felt like a jolt along their lips. Iris grabbed at his love handles without thinking, moaning as softness filled her hands. His hands moved lower down to her thighs and he lifted her up. She was light, but the pressure of her against his full stomach was almost too much. 

“Are you coming inside?” he asked between hungry kisses.

She couldn’t even get words out. Just a long moan and emphatic nodding.

“Good girl,” he said, smiling into their kiss as he took the keys from her and deftly unlocked his front door.