Little Big Eater

Little Big Eater - 01

Part 1 of 3

The story of Ben and Gabi’s love. For each other. And for food.

By Valerie Vickers

***

Hello, again, dear readers. I have been getting a lot of emails and DMs requesting I do a story about Gabi ever since her photos appeared on the Ample Appetites message boards. Well, I was finally able to arrange an interview. I spent the day on a citywide tour with Gabi and her boyfriend, Ben, visiting many of their favorite places to eat. (Luckily for AA’s budget and my continued employment, several of these establishments are sponsors with special offers for our readers. I will note these at the end, so please be sure to give them your business if you are able.)

***

My day with Benjamin and Gabriela (Ben and Gabi) begins at Ruth’s Pancake House. If you have seen Gabi’s photos, you know the young woman cuts quite an impressive figure. What is less evident in the pictures is the vast height difference between the couple. I am 5’8 myself, and Ben towers over me. As we sit down, Gabi is kind enough to answer my first question before I can ask— she is 5’1, or just under 155cm. Ben is 6’4, or 193cm.

V: “Let’s get the other numbers questions out of the way. How much do you both weigh?”

G: “Coming out swinging, eh Miss Vickers?”

V: “It is the big question our readers keep asking. And please, call me Val.”

G: “Alright, Val. Well, sorry to disappoint your readers, but I don’t know the exact number. It’s somewhere in the 180s, I think.” (80kg)

B: “226 for me.” (102kg)

At this point, our server arrives. Since I know many of you appreciate these details, Gabi orders five pancake combo platters, and Ben gets three. These are plates with three pancakes, two eggs, hashbrowns, sausage, and bacon. I content myself with a western omelet.

V: “You mentioned we would be visiting several memorable places during today’s interview. Tell me about this one.”

G: “This is where we had our first date.”

B: “Second date.”

G: “We disagree on this. I count it as our first date because we came here alone. Ben thinks the time a few days before — we met up for lunch with another couple — was our first date.”

It is clear from their tones that this disagreement is a friendly one.

V: “I believe that is another stop on our itinerary.”

B: “That’s right, Val, we went to Johnny’s on our first date.

Ben winks teasingly at Gabi.

G: “It’s one of our favorite places; we still go there about once a month.”

My food and the first of theirs arrive then, so we pause the interview while we eat. The couple digs into their food with gusto. I barely have time to finish half of my omelet before their plates are clean and the staff brings out the second round. Throughout our breakfast, I notice Ben glancing from his plate to Gabi’s and back. When Gabi’s fourth platter is brought out, I ask Ben some more questions while she continues eating.

V: “You seem in excellent shape, Ben. Do you play any sports?”

B: “I wrestled some Freshman year and played football and soccer in high school, but I don’t really have time for it now. I mostly lift.”

V: “And how does it feel to have a girlfriend who can out–eat you?”

Ben chuckled at that.

B: “Trying to stir up some drama for your readers, eh, Val?”

He thinks about the question for a moment.

B: “I think it’s great. I’ve always been pretty competitive; I still do weightlifting competitions once in a while. I’ll admit it was a bit of a blow to my pride to lose to her so often, but now I feel proud of my hungry little monster.”

V: “Do you ever… “win,” as you put it?”

B: “At eating? There were a couple times the first year we were together that I was able to keep up, but not for a long time now.”

V: “As a bodybuilder, you must keep pretty close track of your calories?”

B: “Oh yeah, definitely. When we started dating freshman year, I tried to get in about 10k calories a day.”

V: “That is quite a lot. And now?”

B: “Not a lot more. Maybe as much as 15k on a cheat day like this.”

Gabi doesn’t react to any of my questions, even when her name is mentioned. She is entirely focused on her food, resting each plate atop her enormous chest and shoveling bites into her mouth. Despite her rapid pace, Gabi makes pleased little facial expressions with every mouthful.

V: “I admit Gabi’s appetite is really something. The stories do not quite do it justice.”

B: “Oh, you have no idea. When we’re not eating out, I barely have time to eat myself, keeping my baby fed.”

Ben pats Gabi on the head, and she smiles up at him briefly before continuing to devour her breakfast.

V: “Do you do that often, eat in?”

B: “When senior year started, I became an RA, so I got to have a bigger room with a small kitchen. I mostly get frozen stuff or things that you heat up, but after graduation, when we move in together, I’m gonna learn to cook.”

V: “I bet that will be nice. Do you find it satisfying to share meals you make yourself?”

B: “I do! Honestly, this one will eat anything I put in front of her, but I think she appreciates it too. It’s definitely cheaper than eating out.”

At this point, Gabi is scraping the last few bites off her plate, so I pay the check, and we proceed to our next stop— the farmer’s market.

***

Now, when most people think of a farmer’s market, they think of fresh produce. Local, organic, naturally–grown fruits and vegetables, complete with dirt and bugs, so you know you are not eating any bug spray or whatever. I know some in the Ample Appetites community swear by the natural sugars provided by fruit, but it does not seem like Ben and Gabi are in that camp.

No, dear readers, our young couple beeline straight for the baked goods. We find cookies, brownies, hand pies, and actual pies sold by sweet old ladies and the occasional Amish folk. I sample a few myself, and I can tell you that Ben and Gabi have excellent taste. You might be tempted to think from Ben’s earlier comments that Gabi is a veritable ‘food dumpster,’ but this could not be further from the truth. Even when we visit the handful of food trucks parked along one row of the market, the incredibly busty short stack recognizes them all and lets Ben and I know which ones to skip.

I say skip because we visit every single one not on that unwritten list. A particular incident I am sure my readers will enjoy begins as Gabi strides up to a food truck with no line. I don’t need to mention that she’s been getting sideways glances and the occasional open gawking since we arrived. The man in the truck, however, has not seen her approach. Gabi steps very close to the small counter and stands on her toes to see over its metal surface.

“Can I help you miss? Are you here by yourself?” He asks.

It is clear from his patronizing tone the man thinks Gabi is a child or perhaps a young teen. She takes a few small steps back from the truck, giving the man a perfect angle to view her massive breasts. I am sure you all are having as much fun as I did imagining the poor food seller’s point of view as Gabi inches back, back, back, and the cleavage just keeps coming. I can tell the food truck has been recently washed because Gabi’s top is clean. After all, she had to press quite a lot of her front against the vehicle to reach the counter.

“So sorry, miss! For you, half price!” The man blurts out.

B: “That won’t be necessary. Stop teasing the poor man, Gabi.”

Ben playfully taps Gabi on the shoulder, and for a moment, I worry the busty young woman may lose her balance and topple over.

As we patronize fully two—thirds of the food trucks, I understand why the couple bought up so many baked goods beforehand. Several of the more popular trucks have pretty long lines, and despite all the food they buy from each one, Gabi is almost always done eating before the next order is ready. Ben usually orders something small at each truck, while Gabi requests a full meal, sometimes two. When she is done eating each one, Ben carries away the trash, handing her another box of muffins, bag of cookies, or tray of homemade fudge.

V: “You must come here a lot?”

G: “Yeah, every week if we can.”

Gabi is back to eating again, so Ben continues.

B: “Food trucks can be a little risky, but we’ve worked out which ones are winners.”

V: “Dare I ask how you figured out the bad ones?”

B: “Oh, they weren’t bad per se, just a little bland or boring. You probably wouldn’t guess it, but my girl’s a bit of a foodie.”

V: “She certainly seems to know what she likes. Tell me about the early days of your relationship. How did you two meet?”

B: “Nothing too exciting about that story. We have mutual friends who are a couple, Josh and Jen. Jen had a couple classes with Gabi, and I met Josh at the gym back in freshman year.”

V: “Is he a bodybuilder too?”

B: “Ha! Not really. They’re both big hikers, though, so he goes to the gym for core strength and endurance training.”

V: “I see. And they introduced you?”

G: “More like they ambushed us.”

B: “Heh, yeah. They each invited us out for dinner and drinks, just a casual thing. But we found out later they were hoping we would hit it off.”

V: “And they turned out to be right?”

B: “Most definitely. Josh and I hit up all–you–can–eat wings down at Tucker’s once, and I’m pretty sure Gabi’s appetite was already legendary. They guessed we would bond over our shared love of food, and they were right.”

Ben reaches over to dab a bit of barbecue sauce from Gabi’s mouth with a finger, which she quickly licks off.

V: “If you do not mind me saying, it is not surprising that there was an attraction between you from the start. You’re both impressive physical specimens.”

B: “Miss Vickers, are you hitting on us? We might be open to sharing… after enough drinks.”

I will not attempt to transcribe my unintelligible response to that.

G: “Knock it off, Ben. Now who’s teasing?”

B: “Sorry, Val. Anyway, Gabi wasn’t quite as… large… as she is now, but you’re right that I was attracted to her right away.”

V: “Do you recall your size at the time?”

G: “34K, I think.”

B: “It was L.”

G: “Was it?”

B: “You made me read the tag aloud after our third date before I could take it off.”

Gabi blushes at this but covers with another big mouthful of burrito.

It does not take a lingerie expert to see that Gabi is well beyond L–cup at the time of this interview. While she is again lost in the joys of good food, I continue chatting with Ben.

V: “How long had you been dating when you started to notice the… unique way Gabi stores extra weight?”

B: “Ha! That’s a very diplomatic way to ask when I noticed her [breasts] were still growing, Val.”

V: “Well, AA is not a pornographic publication, Ben. NSFW forums notwithstanding.”

B: “Right, right. Well, let me think. I’d say it was probably three or four months after our relationship got physical. I think I noticed before she did, as an outside observer.”

V: “That makes sense. What was that like?”

B: “A little crazy, if I’m being honest. Gabi was already the bustiest woman I’d ever seen, but then over the past three years, she kept getting bigger and bigger.”

V: “Indeed. Was that exciting for you both, were you ever worried?”

B: “I wouldn’t say ‘worried,’ but maybe concerned, early on. But we’re both young, and she stays very active.”

We have reached the last of the food trucks at this point. There does not seem to be anything else the couple wants to do at the market, so we move on to lunch.

V: “This may be a delicate question. What has it been like growing so busty over the years?”

Gabi takes some time to think about her answer as we walk a few short blocks to our destination.

G: “When I was younger, I was very self–conscious. I think when Ben and I started dating, I was still dressing in big baggy hoodies and stuff.”

B: “As if you could hide those beauties.”

Gabi gives Ben a playful swat on the arm.

G: “But yeah, Ben really helped me appreciate my body for what it is. It’s just… me, you know?”

V: “That is a very healthy perspective.”

***

Little Big Eater - 2/3

Our next stop is the sports bar Johnny’s. Clearly, this is one of Ben and Gabi’s favorite haunts. Before the hostess can get our party size and scan her map, one of the servers spots the couple— walking up.

“Hey, guys! — Put them in my section, Hannah. Table seven is open.”

The server, whose nametag reads “Heather,” leads us to an extra large booth, where Gabi once again rests her impressive chest on the table. Heather asks simply if they want the usual. Gabi’s only alteration to the order is a vague, “Extra cheese on everything.”

V: “Ben mentioned you stay active. Is that challenging with your unusual physique?”

G: “Ha ha ha! Is it hard for me to work out with huge boobs, you mean?”

V: “Precisely.”

G: “Well, it’s definitely gotten harder over the years. Back in freshman year, I was able to jog for a half hour or so every morning.”

V: “That sounds uncomfortable.”

G: “Heh, it was. I had to wear two sports bras to keep the girls from running amok.”

V: “I bet. And what do you do now?”

G: “Well, I tried swimming with Ben for a while. That’s how he does cardio, but it didn’t go very well.”

Ben chuckles at this.

V: “That’s an… amusing mental image.”

B: “You have no idea, Val. She had no problem treading water with those PFDs—”

V: “PFDs?”

G: “Personal floatation devices.”

Ben winces, and I can only assume that Gabi has kicked him under the table.

B: “But they created too much drag— her stroke form was terrible.”

G: “I’ll stroke you!”

B: “You promise?”

Luckily this little interchange is interrupted by Heather, who has returned with two armloads of appetizers. Loaded nachos, fried dill chips, mozzarella sticks, and waffle fries—loaded, of course. We all sample a bit of everything. Once again, the lion’s share goes to Gabi, though Ben also makes a sizable dent. As Gabi loses herself in the joy of good food, I continue my interview with Ben.

V: “It sounds like Gabi is a little less of a gym rat than you are?”

Ben laughs.

B: “That’s not saying much, but you’re right. She mostly does cardio and a bit of strength training in her back and shoulders.”

V: “That’s probably wise.”

B: “Yep! She loves food too much to diet, and neither of us like the idea of surgery, so keeping herself strong and mobile is a necessity.”

Our entrees arrive at this point. Mine is a buffalo chicken wrap, while Ben and Gabi enjoy a parade of burgers similar to their breakfast platters from this morning. I have Ben identify each one to me as they arrive— Gabi is far too preoccupied with eating her burgers to answer any questions about them. First, there is a double bacon and jalapeño with extra cheese, then a double mushroom Swiss with extra cheese, a ‘cowboy’ burger —dried onions and barbecue sauce— with extra cheese. These first three arrive in pairs, a matching burger for each. Gabi continues with a ‘King’ burger —peanut butter, bacon, and jalapeño— an avocado-bacon burger, finishing off with a Nashville hot chicken. All with extra cheese, as requested. Each meal comes with a side, and the couple gets just about all of them— garlic mashed potatoes, loaded tater tots, loaded steak fries, loaded waffle fries, loaded sweet potato fries, Mac and cheese, and steamed broccoli, also smothered in melted cheese.

After Ben finishes his meals, with Gabi still focussed on her own —making little moans of delight with each new sandwich or side— we continue the interview.

V: “So, you’ve mentioned jogging and swimming. Did Gabi ever find a form of cardio that worked for her?”

B: “We tried a few things. Yoga was a bit of a disaster, as was the rowing machine. Cycling was a little better, but she had issues with balance.”

V: “Yikes.”

B: “Yeah… there were a few skinned knees and bruised elbows at first… Anyway, we settled on that. Not quite as intense as ‘spinning,’ but once I helped her with her form, it’s been working really well.”

Our conversation lulls while we watch Gabi eat. I confess, dear readers, that rarely have I seen a woman who enjoys food quite so much. The diminutive Latina is in her own little world. It’s as if Ben and I don’t even exist so long as she has food in her hands.

V: “Do you ever work out together?”

B: “In the early days, when we were trying stuff outside, we did. But it’s hard for her to keep up with me, and sticking to her pace isn’t really worth it for me.”

V: “That’s too bad.”

B: “Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with her. But trying to work out together didn’t work for either of us.”

Ben pauses for a moment as if debating whether to go ahead with this following remark.

B: “Of course, we do get some shared exercise in… other ways…”

Ben glances back at me with a chuckle.

B: “Oh man, you should see your face! Sorry, Val.”

I regain my composure and go on.

V: “If she’s using a stationary bike, you could get a second one or some other piece of cardio equipment.”

B: “We’ve talked about that, actually. It might be our next big purchase.”

Around this point, Gabi finishes her last entree and rejoins the conversation.

G: “What was that all about?”

B: “Nothing, babe; I’m just giving our new friend a hard time.”

Gabi gives a wordless ‘hmpf’ at that but smiles. Once again, AA picks up the check, and we move on.

***

After lunch, we walk around the park for half an hour, ostensibly to let our food digest.

V: “Tell me more about the early days of your relationship. I assume you’ve met each other’s families?”

Gabi chuckles at this. For a moment, I worry she might lose a button off her blouse.

G: “I don’t think Ben’s parents knew what to think of me.”

Ben explains.

B: “I’m an only child, and my parents are older. I thought Dad was going to have a heart attack.”

G: “Or your mom was gonna stab him with that knife when he kept staring!”

B: “Haha, yeah. But you won her over when dinnertime came. She said she’s never seen anyone appreciate her cooking so much.”

G: “Well, she’s a good cook.”

B: “For sure.”

Our walk leads us to our next stop on the tour— a Renaissance fair. First things first, of course, Gabi leads us to a smoky booth for barbecue turkey legs. I decline, but Ben gets one, and Gabi gets two. I can tell she wants more but decides that one per hand is enough for now.

V: “Tell me about this stop.”

B: “This was our first non–restaurant date. And the day I asked Gabi to move in with me.”

V: “That’s sweet. Do you come back a lot?”

G: “Once or twice a year, usually. We dress up and everything; it’s a whole thing.”

V: “But not today?”

G: “Well… my usual outfit is a barmaid thing with the leather corset, and it seemed like too much hassle to change in the middle of the interview.”

B: “Plus, it doesn’t fit.”

Gabi blushes faintly at this, her mouth full of smoked turkey meat.

G: “Yeah… I need to have it altered again.”

Ben leads us to an archery area. I won’t describe my poor showing, but Ben does very well. Gabi declines to participate.

V: “You don’t like archery?”

G: “Well, I used to when I was a kid, but I can’t really do it anymore…”

Gabi mimics drawing a bow, thrusting her chest forward to demonstrate how much her protruding breasts would interfere with a bowstring.

V: “That does seem like it’d make things difficult.”

After the archery, the couple each buys big bags of kettle corn, and we sit to watch a comedy pirate show for a while. Then it’s meat pies and mead, followed by axe throwing. Words fail to describe the sight of a 5’1 woman with breasts the size of watermelons trying to throw axes, but I trust my more imaginative readers will be able to picture it.

V: “Are there other things you used to be able to do that you can’t do anymore?”

Gabi thinks about this for a moment while she chews.

G: “I guess so. You guys talked about the workout stuff already. It’s pretty pointless for me to do pushups… not that I could ever really do those. I don’t know… cartwheels, I guess?”

Gabi laughs at this.

V: “Do you regret losing those things?”

G: “I mean, it’s just life, right? And, of course, now there are things I can do that I couldn’t before. But—“

B: “But we can’t talk about them with kids around.”

G: “I wasn’t going to say that!!”

We arrive at another food stand, saving us all from this particularly awkward line of conversation.

As the afternoon progresses, we go from event to event, always food followed by something else, then even more food. Ben seems to be saving his appetite for dinner, snacking lightly, while Gabi is rarely without something to put in her mouth. I lose track eventually, but there’s wood-fired pizza, elephant ears, corn on the cob, candied almonds, and more. We watch the jousting show, and a hilarious pair of women called Knotty Knickers who make suggestive puns about laundry. We watch a blacksmith at his trade, and I let Ben and Gabi have me try on various hats and wigs at a “Haberdashery.”

V: “What was it like meeting Gabi’s family, Ben?”

B: “Oh, they were all super sweet. Her little brother plays football in school, so we bonded right away over gym stuff. Her sisters mostly seemed happy to meet someone who could keep up with their hungry little sister.”

V: “That sounds like quite a big family.”

G: “One brother, three sisters.”

Gabi bounces off to get more corn.

B: “The first time I went over there, they couldn’t stop talking about Gabi’s appetite— once they got all the ‘tall’ jokes out of their system. Her oldest sister said they used to have to announce when they were done eating, to give Gabi permission to start cleaning up the leftovers.”

V: “Are her siblings big eaters too?”

B: “Not really —haha— they’re all pretty skinny. After her second plate, Gabi had to just sit and watch hungrily while the others finished their firsts. I think it made it hard for any of them to overeat.”

I reflect on the day, imagining someone with Gabi’s appetite watching me eat.

V: “That does sound like it’d be a little unnerving.”

B: “They said they had to buy their own snacks, too, and hide them. Nothing her mom bought ever lasted long. She’s a good cook like mine, though, and made enough to feed an army.”

V: “An army… or one particularly hungry daughter?”

B: “Haha, something like that…”

***

Little Big Eater - 03

After the Renn fair, we go across town to Fujiyama: a conveyor belt sushi restaurant. Since there is no waiting for food, I don’t get much chance to talk to Gabi— she starts pulling sushi rolls, edamame, and gyoza off the belt right away. She eats everything with her hands.

G: “Chopsticks slow me down.”

Ben whispers.

B: “She’s just real bad at using them.”

G: “I heard that!”

Fujiyama isn’t a sponsor, but I highly recommend them if you want high-quality sushi.

B: “You’re probably wondering how much this one eats?”

Ben volunteers while the two of us are still eating.

V: “It’s on my list to ask, but she’s been a little busy.”

Ben chuckles at that, then considers.

B: “Hmm… well, she doesn’t track calories like I do, but when we got together, she usually put away twice as much as me, and it’s even more than that now, so I’d say around 30k.”

Ben looks thoughtful again.

B: “Though there was one time…”

V: “Go on…”

B: “Well, one Saturday, I made her get up extra early to go on a hike up at the State Park. She’d skipped dinner the day before.”

V: “That doesn’t sound like her.”

B: “I think she had one of those stomach bugs. Whatever I suggested made her feel nauseous, so she’d had nothing but saltines and 7–up all afternoon. I was going to skip the hike, but the next morning she was back to her usual self, so we went for it anyway.”

V: “And how did that go?”

B: “Oh, the hike went great. If you get all the way to the top, there’s a great view back down into the city.”

V: “I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

B: “It’s worth it, for sure. Anyway, by the time we got back to the car, Gabi’s stomach was grumbling so loud I think she was scaring away the birds. We hit up ‘Ruth’s’ for breakfast, and she basically spent the whole day eating.”

V: “Kind of like today?”

Ben looks over at Gabi, who has a small plate of sushi resting on each breast as they spread across the small table. She uses her fingers to pop rolls into her mouth one at a time, making a happy little wiggle with each bite.

B: “Oh, today has been above average for sure, but still nothing compared to that day. By my best guess, she put away over forty thousand calories after that hike.”

V: “Two or three times your own daily average; that’s quite a lot.”

B: “For sure.”

We both take a moment to reflect on those numbers.

V: “So what’s next for Ben and Gabi? To borrow a clichéd expression — is there a ring in your future?”

B: “Ha! Well, we’ve agreed to wait until after graduation to get married, but I—”

Ben glances over at Gabi to see if she’s listening. She seems engrossed in one plate of spicy crab maki and another of ‘dragon’ rolls.

B: “…I’m still working out the best way to propose. It’ll probably involve a really big dinner.”

I laugh in agreement.

V: “Do the two of you have career prospects?”

B: “I’ve had an internship every summer with Dyna–Corp, and they’ve all but promised me a job after graduation. Gabi’s still looking, but she’s not in a big hurry.”

V: “She’s majoring in Communications, is that right?”

B: “Yeah. I think she’s hoping to get something remote — PR management or some other kind of office thing.”

V: “Lots of people working remotely these days. I myself only go into the office a few days a month.”

B: “Yeah, and Gabi wants to avoid anything too public or too physically demanding.”

V: “Of course.”

Content warning for this next bit of the interview. Skip ahead a few lines if you’re of a sensitive disposition.

V: “Not to be indelicate, but has she considered something more… performative?”

B: “What, like an OnlyFans?”

G: “‘Get spicy photos and videos of Gabi! All–natural 36W-cup! Only twenty bucks a month! Exclusive content available to purchase!’”

It seems Gabi is finally nearing the end of her all–day meal. The plates she’s eating now are some dessert sushi and mochi ice. The restaurant has slots the empty plates go into, so I can’t say for sure how many of them she’s pulled off the belt and picked clean. It’s at least in the high thirties.

G: “I’ve thought about it, but it’s not really my jam, you know?”

I’m stuck on something Gabi just said.

V: “Did you say W?”

Gabi laughs.

G: “That’s right. I have to get all my bras custom-made. This one’s already getting tight, though. I’m not sure what Sherri will say when I run out of letters!”

I confess, dear readers, that I was stunned. I’ll save you the “math story problem” — Gabi’s breasts are twenty–three inches larger than her torso. Only three inches to go before she runs out of letters! And if you’ve followed along up to this point, you know that Gabi has grown nearly four cup sizes a year since starting college. I think I speak for all my readers when I say we’ll be looking forward to the very custom wedding dress she’ll be wearing in a year or two.

***

After dinner, we go out for ice cream, of course. Ben and I each have simple cones with three scoops, while Gabi adds a banana split, a sundae, and a milkshake to her order.

V: “Ben, Gabi, I want to thank you both for taking the time to spend the day with me.”

B: “It’s our pleasure, Val.”

Gabi murmurs her agreement through a mouthful of ice cream.

V: “On behalf of my readers and the entire ‘Ample Appetites’ community, I can say we’ll be watching your careers with great interest.”

***

Valerie Vickers has been a columnist at Ample Appetites since 2018. Val originated in central Ohio but now lives on the City’s North side, where the restaurants are more diverse. She has two dogs and enjoys afternoons on the beach and good meals shared with friends. Particularly meals she’s prepared and friends with healthy appetites.

This article was sponsored by Ruth’s Pancake House, Johnny’s Burgers, and Mary’s Ice Cream Parlor.


Epilogue

I stood at my stove, intermittently stirring the red sauce while two timers ticked off. One timer was for the spaghetti boiling in my largest stew pot, the other for two baking sheets lined with rows of golfball-size meatballs in the oven. I’d been cooking for hours. My back and feet should have been aching, but I felt too damn good to care.

“Hey, how’s it going in here?” Ben’s voice came from the kitchen doorway.

“I’ve got more garlic bread ready to go. You mind stirring this sauce while I take it in?”

“Sure thing. You’re the chef. It’d be a shame for you not to get to appreciate all your hard work.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

“Anytime, Val.”

The towering young man swatted my ass as I carried out the garlic bread tray. If Gabi noticed my burning red face, she didn’t remark on it.

“This might be –homf– the best risotto I’ve ever –ulp– had, Val.”

“I’m glad you like it, Gabi.”

I took a moment to appreciate the sight. Gabi sat at my little dining room table, gargantuan chest spread across its surface, shoveling my food between her lips like there was no tomorrow. Between her very erotic moans and the sight of her rampant gluttony and greed, I was glad to be wearing a loose skirt so that the young couple couldn’t see my sopping wet panties.

“I have some garlic bread to tide you over; the spaghetti is almost done.”

–Mmpf– awesome…”

Gabi’s small hand reached greedily for the pan. I balanced it on top of one massive breast, miles of cleavage showing in her skin–tight tank top. It was like a fantasy come to life.

Well, half a fantasy. The other half was standing in my kitchen. Reluctantly, I left the sight of little Gabi feeding her massive tits and returned to the kitchen. I took a moment to appreciate Ben’s tight ass and the thick muscles of his arms as he stirred the sauce.

“Your girl in there is quite the eater,” I said.

“Ha! You spent a whole day watching her eat last weekend, remember?”

I stepped up beside him, nudging him away from the stove with my hip. Electricity seemed to spark when our bodies touched.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s different when it’s my food she’s eating.”

“I know, right?”

I wondered just how much food it would take to satisfy the girl. Spaghetti was the last of my signature Italian dishes. She’d already devoured the lasagna, carbonara, fettuccini, and baked ziti and was nearly done with the risotto. I was determined to keep going, though, until Gabi was full or until I ran out of food, whichever came first.

Ben stepped around behind me to watch over my shoulder. I could swear I felt heat radiating off him, though that might have been the steam from the pasta.

“You know, Val…” Ben said softly, laying one big hand on my shoulder, “I don’t think I’ve ever helped anyone cook who wasn’t my mom.”

“I’m old enough to be your mom.” I blurted. Hopefully, Ben couldn’t see my ears turn red. The heat I was feeling now had nothing to do with the contents of my stove.

Pfft. You’re not that much older than us.”

Ben’s hand crept lower, resting on the small of my back. I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through my whole body.

“Hey, I’m curious about something…” I began slowly.

“Hmm?”

I considered spinning around to face him, but I chickened out.

“All that weight lifting… you’re not –uh– compensating… for anything, are you?”

Ben put two strong hands on my hips and pulled our bodies together. Even through multiple layers of clothes, I could tell — he was not compensating for anything.

“How’s it coming in there!?”

Gabi’s voice came from the other room, and my backside felt suddenly cold as Ben stepped away to poke his head out of the doorway.

“Almost ready, babe. You need anything? More wine?”

“You two better not be getting started without me!” I heard Gabi say.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Gabs. Val and I are just getting warmed up while you finish dinner. Right, Val?”

My voice cracked as I mumbled, “mmhmm!”

“Bennnn!” Gabi whined. “You said we were gonna share!”

“We will, babe, we will. Unless you’re full and ready to go now?”

Silence hung in the air. I could almost picture the ridiculously busty girl’s mental turmoil as she debated between her insatiable appetite and more… carnal pleasure. The timers went off, so I drained the pasta, pulled the meatballs, and mixed everything together in the huge pot.

I pushed past Ben, nearly grunting with the effort of carrying enough spaghetti and meatballs to feed twenty people.

“Spaghetti is ready!”

Ben helped me hold the pot in range of Gabi so she could reach her fork inside and swirl up a mouthful of pasta and sauce.

–Hmmmm!–” She moaned. “We nee’ to do this mo’ of’en.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, babe.”

Ben’s hand stroked my back, drifting lower each time. I mustered a little confidence and rested my free hand on his thigh. Gabi grew impatient and reached for the huge pot.

“Here, gimme that.”

She perched the pot on her magnificent mounds and tipped it forward so she could reach inside.

“There. Now you both have an extra hand free. I don’t want to be the only one at this party not getting touched.”

The rest of dinner was a blur. I remember Ben’s strong fingers inside me while I had a mouth on one of Gabi’s nipples. I remember stroking his impressive manhood while he fingered his girlfriend. Eventually, Gabi finished eating, and the three of us relocated to my bed. Sometime later, we all lay in the bed, breathing hard. Gabi on her back, with Ben and I on either side, glancing at each other over the caramel mountains of Gabi’s breasts.

My hand rested on Gabi’s stuffed belly, and I felt it rumble beneath my fingers.

“I have some pies… if you’re ready for dessert?” I whispered.

“I’m gonna outgrow that bra before the night’s over,” Gabi said in a low, sultry voice.

“Is that a no?”

“…No.”

I climbed out of bed, and Ben followed me. “I’ll help you with those, Val.”

I spun around, coming face to face with his bare chest, and craned my neck to meet his eyes. “Call me Miss Vickers.”

Ben put his hand on my back and bent to kiss my neck, my whole body arched like a cat, and I rose up on my toes with pleasure.

“Will you two quit fooling around and get me those pies? I’m wasting away over here!”

Ben stepped over to kiss his girlfriend. “Coming right up, babe.”

“After dessert, another round?” Gabi asked.

“Already?” I sputtered.

“You bet your sweet ass, Miss Vickers.” Ben smirked.

It was a good thing I had the day off because none of us got much sleep.