Unquestionably (Patreon)

I know it’s not necessarily the piece of writing everyone’s been waiting for from me, but it’s the one I was able to finish up first. Things get a little more serious for our playful couple. In more ways than one…

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“Sheesh,” Gita exaggerated, surveying the food Tom had set out across the blanket they were sitting upon. “With a spread like this? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s almost as if you’re trying to get me fat or something.”

As he sat back from kneeling, Tom’s eyes shot wide. He recoiled a little, reflexively, resulting in a bit of a bashful blush. Even this far into their relationship, he’d spent a lifetime quelling these sorts of fiendish little desires of his. Keep it all on the down low. Something about Gita just coming right out & stating it like that, for anyone nearby to hear, still made him shy up a little as a knee jerk reaction.

Gita, on the other hand, had deviously found it to be the perfect way to toy with him. And he was fattening her up after all. Quite nicely. But if she was the one that had to bear the literal brunt of that weight, she’d tease potentially outing his constant attempts to overfeed her each & every chance she could. And this picnic of his in a public park, as sweet as it was of him, was certainly no exception. He just happened to luck out no one was in earshot. This time.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He tamped a hand down. Gita laughed as he looked over his shoulders to see if the coast was clear. His shyness, the redness of his cheeks, striking her as kind of adorable. Then he looked at her, eyes flaring, continuing in a volume just above a whisper. “What do you mean “get,” Chonks?” In the moment, she kept up the bit, offering a look of faux shock back at him, playing up the indignancy of it. The outrage. Chonks? How dare he! In reality? She liked it whenever he was bold enough to try & tease her. More & more as he seemed to do it, in fact.

After all, she was certainly quite a chonker these days. Fat, to be concise. And while she still had the occasional gripe with just how much of it was pure belly, she loved just about every inch of her growing self. The heft. The roundness. No longer the puny & meek lil’ wallflower. For the first time in her entire life, Gita just felt… right. Substantial. And while she might’ve been trying to pace herself a little better now, after living with Tom for a few months, why fight her appetite when indulging the way she did made her so damn happy? Things, if maybe a little strange & not necessarily like… normative, just felt perfect. Even if she did play up Tom’s attempts to thicken her up. Or act upset whenever he, pretty accurately, referred her as Chonks.

He reached into the vintage old picnic basket he had found somewhere, & pulled out a fresh strawberry, straight from the farmer’s market that morning. He held it in front of her, one part peace offering, another part the devious ulterior scheme of his that she had alluded to earlier. Gita only stared back at first, with kayfabe dismay. Then, in a power move, instead of reaching out to accept the berry? She leaned her head back, straining the tight shoulder straps of her light blue jumper, & opened her mouth with a softly jutting tongue.

She couldn’t have been clearer. She wanted him to feed it to her, & she knew, full well, Tom would be too helpless to resist. And with a frustrated huff of concession, he eventually did cave, reaching across himself to plant it exactly where she wanted it. The taste was wonderful. So fresh. Her teeth sunk into its plump sides, & the seeping juice caused her to softly whelp as she tried to catch all of it. Tom brought his other hand up to cup her soft chin, just in case. But in a move that left him prone. Wide open. He was too busy closely watching Gita chew to see her fingers readying to strike. She waited to swallow first.

“Who are you accusing of chonk, Chonks?” Gita gleefully grasped at Tom’s side with almost like an eagle’s claw technique from an old Kung fu film. Her fingers found just a little more give than either seemed to be expecting.

“Hey!” Tom winced as he reeled back, with a scowl that suddenly a bit less playful. Almost as if it were a little out of bounds. Or telling her that she did it just a little too hard. After all she was getting a little clumsier in that way. Having more weight to throw around might’ve meant a little too much force.

“Sorry… sorry!” She cooed with her hands up. While she might’ve first noticed him adding a little extra padding a while ago, this was the first time Gita had ever made mention of it. And she noticed him inhale, maybe even realizing, self-consciously trying to suck in the slight gut he had been steadily gaining, making her giggle all the more. That very subtle reaction was it for her. Blood in the water.

“Aww-heh-haw,” She chortled, side-eyeing him. “I see how it is.” She leaned onto her farther palm. “Dish it out,” She then tried to punctuate the rest of the sentence with further, but more measured pokes to the side. For the four beats, she only managed about one & a half. “But you- just- can’t tak-“

“Stop!” Tom asserted sharply, pivoting to bat her finger away, holding his hand as more of a threat than anything. He was far too gentle for that, even if his tone had suddenly shifted. He sounded a bit more upset than playful now suddenly. Genuinely upset. Gita could only stare, mouth agape for a second, unsure at what had just transpired.

“Are you…?” She leaned forward. Or at least she tried. It took her a little bit of work to bend these days, given the size of her round belly. The round belly that Tom had no issue in helping grow, constantly making sure she was so well-fed. Even with the aforementioned spread of this very picnic, on the first nice day they both had off in a while.

The next word she was going to say before trailing off was “serious.” Moments between them were rarely serious. Their entire relationship was built upon playfulness. And light teasing. This felt decidedly different. More tense in a way.

After all this time together, & all the changes them being together had brought about in Gita, was he seriously going to get butthurt over her poking at a bit of fun at him softening slightly into not even being fat. Hell, scarcely even chubby! But getting more of a dad bod? She fought off a scowl of her own, still mostly stupefied by this response of his.

“I’m… sorry,” Tom eventually offered, realizing he had entirely killed the vibes. “I really didn’t mean to snap.” Gita, still a little unsure whether or not to be a little miffed at the apparent hypocrisy of the situation, patted his shoulder all the same. He took a deep breath. “It’s just that-“ he attempted. “Look-“ he tried again.

But the words weren’t coming right away. There was something on his mind. Something clearly bothering him about this. And given everything they’d been through, Gita couldn’t possibly posit what that was, making her worry it was for the worst.

“No one’s out here,” She assured, lowering her hand to his back. “It’s just the two of us. What?” Her eyes drilling into him.

“I know that-” he wavered, starting again. He spoke softly. “Everything? What you’ve been doing?” He kept things vague. “I know it’s not 100% because of me. Or rather, I guess to say just because it’s what I happen to like. Right? You do it because you enjoy it too, yeah? But I know me liking it too plays at least a tiny, infinitesimal part in it. Or at least reinforces the… feedback loop of it.”

“You’re meandering.” Gita’s eyes narrowed, trying to speed this along to the pertinent part.

“Well… however much that is? I just want you to know that I- I can’t express just how grateful I am. Just how much I appreciate it. What you’re… willing to do. Become… Truly!”

“Okay…” Gita responded, more to make sure he kept going. Almost as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Which is why, at the very least, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to like… return the favor… all that well…” Tom sulked. “It’s… it’s totally unfair to you…”

“What?!” Gita scoffed, eyes wide, jaw slacked.

“Just constantly having so much food around? I’m catching a few strays here & there, okay? Find myself overindulging a little sometimes too. And I was hoping it wasn’t too noticeable, but I’m sorry! Sorry, given all that you do, I haven’t been able to maintain whatever it is that you saw in me tha-“

“Hold up hold up hold up hold up!” Gita cut him off, rolling her eyes, scoffing harder. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that because of… what I do in terms of “making you happy,” you’re self-conscious over getting a little pudgy because…?”

“It’s… not what you seemed attracted to when we first started seeing each other.” Tom sighed. Even saying it out loud like that, maybe it did sound a little silly to him. But only because it felt like something somewhat committal he could hold to. “But… I promise! Now that things are warming up again, I’m going to st-“ Gita’s flabbergasted snickering cut him off.

“Are- Are you fucking kidding me, dude?!” She chortled loudly. Incredulous, but with some measure of relief returning to her tone.

“What?” He started to respond, he watched her shift away from him a little. The tension seemed to leave her voice, but he had a hard time telling for certain. “I- Ooof!” He didn’t realize that Gita had heaved away to the side, only to build enough momentum to shift her weight & roll all of her soft mass directly on top of him. In the process, it felt like she might’ve accidentally kicked the basket & maybe tipped over the bottle of champagne he had brought. Luckily it was still corked. “What are you-“ Tom strained as she steadied herself on him, her belly enough to make her ass stick out & jut upwards a bit further than it would’ve already. There was getting to be so much of her, he was effectively pinned. Not under any immediate duress, but he definitely wasn’t going anywhere either. And beyond the sulkiness, he didn’t entirely seem to mind being underneath her either, as a slight smirk flashed across his face. She blew & brushed the errant hands strands of dark wavy hair back behind her ear & out of her eyes.

“What makes you think I even mind a bit of this chonk, weirdo?” She laughed, free to poke at his side again unimpeded. “You really think that I, me,” reinforcing she was talking about herself by bringing her arms closer together, which effectively caused her cleavage to almost smother him. “Would honestly be THAT superficial?” Tom was still a little too off guard, first from the weight, now the temptation of boobs so close to his face. “What kind of hypocrite do you take me for?” Gita pouted.

“No… I…” Tom struggled. “It’s not that. I just… We never talked about it. And I know that… well… I’m a weirdo. But like… just because I’m a weirdo… I didn’t necessarily expect you to be so…”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Gita said, talking over him at first, refraining “I don’t give a fuck” again with a smile when he had stopped speaking. “In fact? I noticed it a while back.”

“You did?”

“Of course. Weeks ago, slick. Before you had even asked me to move in with you.” She laughed, her volume lowering. “And if anything? I think it’s adorable,” She looked off to the side. “The way you’re trying to copy me…”

“I’m not tr-” Tom started to insist.

“Uh huh,” Gita laughed, drenching it with sarcasm. The preceding sarcastic “Likely story” was implied. “I do think there is something that’s kind of sweet about it though.”

“So… you don’t care?” He asked.

“If anything, I’m almost a little offended that you thought I would.” She admitted, lifting her elbows onto his shoulders & leaning her face into her palms, looking off to the side. “It’s a weird reason. And quite frankly I’m not sure I entirely buy it…”

It’s true though…” he struggled to wince. She continued, nonplussed.

“But? I am oddly kind of flattered you’d beat yourself up so much over what you think I’d want…” having looked away wistfully, her eyes returned, as she poked his chest. “Just I would’ve thought you knew me better than that.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He sighed, starting to realize maybe it was kind of silly of him. “I just… I love you so much. I just want to do right by you, since I feel so fucking lucky to have you.”

“Even as I’m slowly crushing the life out of you?” She playfully tried to press all of her weight onto him. He winced, & certainly felt it. But watching her butt wiggle behind him as she shifted, he didn’t seem the slightest bit displeased.

“Even- as you try- to crush… the life out of me.” He struggled a little.

“See? All the more reason you ought to bulk up a bit.” She shook her head coyly. “Get you sturdier! If even just to withstand me!” Gita laughed, still pressing, now grinding a little more with it. She relented after a round of giggles, coming to a rest with a sigh. “You know, I’m liking the idea of it more & more though. The both of us, growing old & fat together. It’s… cute.” Tom’s smile widened, his red cheeks getting redder. Gita could read him like a book. Something else was on his mind. “What?” She pressed. “What now?!”

“Well…” He winced, one arm struggling beneath her. He was trying to wiggle it into his pocket, & could only manage when Gita, curiously allowed him by hoisting herself a bit to the opposite side. “That kind of leads nicely into… why I thought we should… come out here… today…” For a second, the gears in Gita’s head started to spin. She thought she had felt something strange in his pocket. Something out of the ordinary, pressing into her thick, meaty thigh. What could he possibly… No.

Her assumption proved correct when suddenly, Tom pulled his hand back into her field of view, presenting a small, hard shell box in the palm of his hand. He seemed to notice a bit of a dent in the top of it. Undoubtedly somehow a result of Gita’s smothering. Gita, upon recognizing the felt covered box to be one of those types of boxes, almost let her eyes bug out from their sockets. A struggle with her bulk, she scurried to get off of him.

“Nonononononononono-“ she droned at first, releasing Tom from his prison of flub. Slow to enjoy his release, a slightly hurt looking Tom seemed confused.

“Wait! “No?” He asked, almost looking to affirm a decision.

“No!” Gita screamed. “I mean… Not “No” No.” She flopped to the side & pushed herself up to her feet with a struggling grunt & a huff. “No” as in, you have to assume the position!” Gita decried. “I can’t be on the ground smooshing the bejeezus out of you!”

“Why not?” Tom asked, his confidence slowly coming back.

“Because it has to be… just right!” Gita insisted. “Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.” She hyperventilated under her breath as she awaited Tom to leave the crater of picnic blanket she had left him in. And get up onto one knee. He flashed a big, blushing smile & pulled the box lid open. Luckily the dent had left the ring inside unscathed. And it sparkled nicely in the afternoon sun. Gita gasped as Tom gulped.

“Gita Par-“

“FUCKING OF COURSE!” She screamed impatiently, cutting him off. “I mean… yes! YES!!” She didn’t even give him a chance to let him put it on her finger before she dove tackle him, landing on him once again. This time a lot harder. In the clumsier way than she was used to. Still, as she alternated between smothering his cheeks with soft machine gun kisses & longer, passionate ones intermittently on his lips, his arms meekly tried to wrap around her the best they could. But from this angle, they had little chance of ever meeting. Still, he tried to kiss back whenever he could in her barrage.

When Gita did eventually remember the ring, Tom tried to warn her it might be a little tight. And it was, but luckily not to any sort of drastic extent. Just a little snug on her plump finger. Gita could totally get away with wearing it for now. And shortly after, she realized the bottle wasn’t wine, but champagne, to celebrate.

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” She clamored as he filled her glass. “I cannot believe we’re engaged. I’m… I’m going to be your wife!” Tom gleefully snickered as he then filled his own. The terms were going to take some getting used to. But at the same time? They also just sounded so right. “I hope you realize though,” Gita poked softly, “Now that you’ve put a ring on it, I also plan to now fully let myself go in that way blushing brides tend to do.” Tom chortled sharply, still a little timid to discuss such things in public, but gaining confidence.

“I… wouldn’t have it any other way. To growing old & fat together,” He offered as a “cheers.”

“To growing old & fat together.” Gita repeated, clinking glasses.