Printed from https://writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2232026-Holiday-with-Your-Fat-Wife/cid/3461187-Elise-begs-to-stop-at-some-place-for-le-petite-
“Can we stop somewhere?” asked Elise on the way to the hotel. You two had already stopped to grab a few pastries in the airport, at her request, and now she seemed to want something more. You asked the driver in French for a patissier and she gave Elise a look in the rear-view mirror. Elise missed it. You repeated the request and then added that your wife was gorgeous. The driver caught your tone and shifted into a more polite form of compliance. We pulled outside a little shop on a street so near the main roads that I expected the rush of car noise to overwhelm us. Instead, it was quiet. A few people sat on outdoor chairs that looked uncomfortable and too small for Elise. She heaved herself out and toward the front door. The cakes and pastries in the windows caught her eyes so that she stopped and looked at them. This meant that she bent forward low and showed off her plump rear. She’d never have a perfectly round rear of a pear-shaped woman, but she was wide and soft and adorable. The driver looked and shook her head. You said something sharper to the woman driving the cab then defended your wife. “You’re making it worse,” the driver said in French. You said that the driver didn’t have to wait and left a smallish tip. The driver grumbled and drove off.
Elise had missed most of that. Her French was more basic than yours, despite the app you’d both downloaded. She pointed and then held up fingers while saying French numbers slowly. It was cute, but the clerk was annoyed. “I speak English,” the man behind the counter said. You waited for Elise to pick out everything she wanted and then encouraged her to add a couple interesting things. “Those Napoleons look delicious,” you said. “I suppose I could share one,” she said. You ordered two so that she didn’t have to. When a paper bag was fully packed, you two stepped outside to find somewhere to sit.
“I don’t think I’ll fit in those little iron chairs,” she said. The chairs were slight enough that she was undoubtedly correct. One cheek of her delightful rear might fit onto a chair. This would have worked well enough except there were arms on the chairs. “We’ll find a bench,” you said. Elise smiled and handed over the bag for you to carry. “Mmm,” she said as she took the bite of a pain au chocolate. Each bite brought out a similar reaction. You felt glad that you had a large bag to supply her appetite.
The two of you found a bench nearby and relaxed near a public square. Elise filled nearly half of the bench herself. Her belly swamped her thick thighs despite the restraints offered by her pants, her belt, and her tight shirt. “Honey,” she said suddenly, “I’m not sure I should eat any more right now.” She looked down at her belly and sighed. “We’re on vacation, love, you don’t have to worry about calories.” She giggled. “I don’t think calories work like that,” she said, but she smiled. “But really, I’m getting heavy for what I do at work.”
Printed from https://writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2232026-Holiday-with-Your-Fat-Wife/cid/3461187-Elise-begs-to-stop-at-some-place-for-le-petite-
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