Stacy's Mom - 5/6 (Patreon)

Contains: Breast Expansion as Weight Gain, Feeding

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Stacy’s Mom

VII

The night Stacy found out about me and her mom was a Thursday. I didn’t see her on Friday or the entire weekend. I’m guessing she stayed at home or with a friend. Students had to be out of the dorms by Sunday, so I spent most of Saturday packing. On Sunday morning, I made two trips back and forth to my temporary new place with my stuff. By early afternoon, I was making final checks through every room in our dorm, making sure I hadn’t left anything behind. All of Stacy’s stuff was still there. I kept replaying the last conversation I had with Christie over the phone late Thursday night.

“Hey…”

“Hey.”

“How… how is she?”

“I think she’s finally asleep. She locked the door and hasn’t come out all night.” Christie paused. “She won’t even talk to me…”

“Christie, I’m so sorry…”

“No, don’t. This is not your fault. Do you understand me?” Christie had never used this “stern mom” tone with me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

“But—“

“But nothing. I’m her mother; I shouldn’t have kept such a big secret from her.”

“Which secret?” I found myself asking. “That you’re bisexual, or that you’re dating her friend?”

“Heh. Is that what we’ve been doing, ‘dating?’”

Her words hit me like a punch. “If you have another label for ‘dinner and a movie then fucking each other’s brains out,’ I’d love to hear it.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady!”

An awkward silence hung on the line.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, Sofi. Force of habit…”

“Don’t apologize… I kinda like your ‘mom voice.’ You should come over and give me a good spanking.”

The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

“S-sorry… that’s totally inappropriate right now…”

“It’s fine.” Christie sighed. “It’s been a weird night.” She paused again. “I think we need to take some time.”

I felt a chill wash over me. “What, you mean like… break up?”

“No! No… I just need to focus on Stacy right now.”

“I… I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I feel the same way.”

“But I don’t want to lose her either,” I said, “She’s been a good friend. Better than I’ve been to her…”

“Everything’s going to be alright, Sofia.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. Stacy will come around, trust me. Just give her some time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

“Thanks, Christie.”

“Try and get some sleep, okay?”

“I will, thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sofia.”

Dropping a Blu-ray and one last phone charger in my bag, I prepared to leave my dorm room for the last time. As I laid my hand on the doorknob, I felt it twist. I took a quick step back as the door swung open. It was Stacy.

“Sorry,” she said, “I thought you’d be gone.”

“I was just on my way out.”

“‘Kay.”

“Are you… do you want help packing up?”

“That’s alright.”

We stood in awkward silence for several seconds. Stacy’s hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She’d done her makeup, but I could tell she was still upset and had probably slept about as much as I had the past two days. She was still lovely, but seeing her just reminded me of Christie.

“Hey, I’m—“

Stacy held up a hand. “Don’t. I’m…” Her shoulder slumped. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, but I’m still mad. We’ll talk about it, but… not right now.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped to the side to let me pass. There was so much I wanted to say—I had been rehearsing apologies for the past 48 hours. But I remembered Christie’s words.

“I guess I’ll see you…”

“Yeah…”

I left.

***

The next two weeks had just enough novelty to keep me from spiraling completely. I moved into a new place and started a new job. Working in a restaurant kitchen was nowhere near as fun as being a student, but I’d done it for the past two summers, so I knew what to expect. My housemates and I got along well enough, but I kept finding myself making inside jokes I had with Stacy or Christie.

“Just like a turtle.”

“Huh?”

“Oh. Never mind.”

I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself, though I think some of the girls noticed my downer vibes. We were only friends through our shared classes and interest in cooking; we never really talked about anything “real.” I tried to keep myself as busy as I could, but lying in bed at night, or during the few slow moments at work, whenever I took a shower, and at random times through the day—I thought about Christie and Stacy.

At least once a day, I tried to work up the nerve to call or text my friend, but the conversation I imagined we’d have inevitably ended with us never speaking again. Even more often, I wanted to talk to Christie, but that voice in my head told me that she would naturally choose her daughter over her new girlfriend, and I was terrified of having that fear confirmed.

Looking back now, two weeks doesn’t seem like a very long time. But while I was living it, hour by hour and minute to minute, it felt like an eternity. Every imagined argument, every willful misunderstanding… it’s a miracle I didn’t get fired from my first real job as a cook.

By my second weekend crashing on my friends’ pull-out couch, I decided to try to get back to my original, pre-Christie plans. I opened my saved searches and scoured the internet for apartment options. I wasn’t making enough yet to afford my own place, and I knew having a stranger for a roommate was a gamble, but my current situation was temporary. Even though we all had jobs and lives outside the house, it was crowded. My friends were very patient and understanding, but using the common space as my bedroom was never going to work long-term.

Finally, Stacy threw me a lifeline. Early on a Saturday, I got a text.

[Hey, can we talk?]

{Of course. You want to call me, or I can come over?}

[Let’s meet up. Coffee?]

{Where?}

[Bean machine? Around noon?]

{I have work at 2, but I can go from there}

[K]

I went back to apartment hunting to distract myself. I tried to focus on Christie’s reassuring words, but I couldn’t help fearing the worst. I messaged the contact numbers for two of the listings closest to my work and then took a shower. There was still almost an hour before I had to leave to meet Stacy, so I put on some cooking YouTube to try and calm my nerves. I felt like a teenager again, getting ready for prom. Nervous and excited but mostly filled with dread, imagining all the worst-case scenarios.

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VIII

Stacy was already at the coffee shop when I got there. To my surprise, Christie was with her. I desperately wanted to rush into her arms, but the look on Stacy’s face was enough to make me keep my composure.

As always, the two women looked amazing. Christie wore a floral sundress with a high enough neck to cover most of her incredible cleavage; Stacy had on a loose hoodie even though it was pushing eighty outside. But Stacy’s huge breasts and Christie’s massive ones refused to be hidden. The name of our college warped across Stacy’s fully covered melons, and though Christie’s dress was a proper fit—she must have bought it recently—it clung to her medicine balls in all the right ways.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” They both responded.

“We ordered for you,” Stacy added, “Americano, black?”

I nodded. The simple fact that one or both of them remembered my coffee order made me want to cry. I just couldn’t lose them.

“I’ll be over there,” Christie said, gesturing at a high-top table on the other side of the cafe. I guess they’d agreed beforehand to let Stacy and I talk privately first.

The two of us sat. I blew across the top of my coffee. It was in a real mug instead of a paper cup, which I took to be a good sign—it seemed Stacy was planning on being here for a while.

The silence stretched, then Stacy spoke.

“First, I’m sorry for waiting so long to do this.”

“Hey, I understand—“

She held up a hand to stop me. “Please.”

I’d imagined and dreaded this conversation for so long that I had so many words ready—most of them probably the wrong ones. I held my palms up to my friend. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“I also… owe you an apology… for that night. I know I said sorry when I saw you at the dorms, but really, I’m sorry. I’m ashamed of how I acted. I was shocked… and tired… but that’s no excuse.”

“Thank you.”

What did this mean? An apology seemed like a good sign, but that wasn’t the same as Stacy accepting my relationship with her mom.

“I was upset for a while. I won’t tell you all the awful thoughts I had for those first few days… But I talked it out with someone, and they talked some sense into me.”

I guessed by her vague use of “someone” that whoever she’d talked to hadn’t been Christie. Maybe it was one of her other friends, or some kind of mentor, maybe even a therapist.

“Really, I think just hearing the thoughts in my head come out of my mouth helped a lot. I was being selfish… childish… and just plain mean.”

It hurt me to hear someone saying such awful things about my friend, even if that someone was her. “Stacy…”

“No, don’t argue. You know I’m right. And if you knew the stuff I didn’t say, you’d probably never speak to me again.”

“I…”

Stacy reached across the table to touch my hand.

“I want us to keep being friends, Sofia. And if… if you make my mom happy, that’s good enough for me.”

My vision blurred as tears formed in my eyes.

“Really?”

“Really. I love you, Sofia.”

“Stacy…”

I climbed out of the booth, and she did, too. I wrapped my arms around her and wept big tears into the top of her blonde head. Stacy’s voice was muffled into my chest as she spoke.

“I’m not calling you ‘mom’ or ‘aunt Sofi’ or anything, just so we’re clear.”

I laughed into Stacy’s hair, squeezing her tighter. Christie walked up as we were stepping apart.

“Looks like that went well.”

Wordlessly I pulled my busty MILF girlfriend into my arms. The feel of her soft body pressed into me—her hands on my back, my head resting atop hers—it felt like coming home.

“I missed you…” I whispered.

“I missed you too…”

I wanted nothing more than to stay there, wrapped in my love’s arms forever. Those fifteen days apart were like being a girl lost at sea, and I’d finally found land. My soft, warm, squishy land…

“Ahem… We’re still in public, you two…”

Christie released me, adding a mocking “Sorry, Mom” to her daughter.

“Pfft,” Stacy snorted.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too, Sofia.”

Christie’s stomach growled.

“Did you have lunch already?” She asked.

I barked a laugh. “I haven’t eaten all morning.”

“Aww, sorry, Sof,” Stacy hugged me again. “Let’s go next door; I’ve been craving burritos.”

“Sofi doesn’t want Americanized burritos, Stacy.”

“Hell yes, I do.”

We shared a laugh and went to lunch together. Everything was back to normal, aside from Christie and I sharing a lot more PDA, to Stacy’s amused annoyance.

“Ugh, I wish I didn’t have to work today.”

“Lame.” Stacy agreed.

“I get off at ten. Maybe earlier if it’s slow. Should I come over?”

Stacy made a show of thinking it over. “Hmm…”

“I’ll bring food if you two can wait that long…”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Christie said. “That’s a pretty late dinner for two growing girls.”

“Mom!”

I quirked a grin. “We’ll call it a midnight snack, then.”

“Perfect.” Christie agreed.

“Can you get some of that peach pie y’all make?” Stacy asked.

“Of course.”

“Oh! And milkshakes?”

“Stacy…” Christie said.

“What? I want to make sure there’s enough for me!” I couldn’t see Stacy’s hand below the table, but the way Christie jumped told me she’d given her mom a poke in her soft belly.

I laughed, “Don’t worry. I’ll bring enough so you’ll have leftovers tomorrow.”

There were no leftovers. But after a stern warning from Stacy that she better not be able to hear us, I got to spend the night with her mom.