Chapter 4: Bathroom Bet
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering slightly as if they too were unsettled by the tension in the cramped office bathroom. Peter’s gaze locked onto Leana’s, his pupils dilated, his breath shallow. She could see the hunger in him—not just for her, but for the taboo thrill of what he’d just confessed. Her stomach twisted, but not entirely from disgust.
The faucet dripped in the silence, each drop echoing like a ticking clock. Leana swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat. "You're serious?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the lights.
Peter didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his hands sliding up her arms, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her biceps. "Dead serious," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "I know it’s fucked up, but I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. Every time you eat, every time you get a little softer—it drives me insane."
A shiver ran down her spine, but it wasn’t just from the chill of the tiled walls. His words curled around her, coaxing out something she’d buried deep. "You’re crazy," she breathed, but her lips twitched, betraying her.
"Maybe," he admitted, his thumbs tracing slow circles on her skin. "But you’re not running. You’re still here."
Her eyes flicked down to her belly, the swell of it pressing against the waistband of her skirt. She’d spent months sucking in, hiding it under loose blouses. But now, under his gaze, she felt… seen. "I should be," she muttered. "I should be disgusted."
Peter tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his stare. "Why? Because society says you should be?" His grip tightened. "Fuck that. You’re gorgeous. And I want you to enjoy every fucking bite."
The truth hit her like a punch. She had enjoyed it—the buttery pastries, the late-night takeout, the way her body had softened under her own indulgence. She’d just never let herself admit it.
A slow, wicked smile curved her lips. "So you like it?" she teased, arching into him. "You want me to get fatter?"
His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her flush against him. "More than fucking anything."
"Prove it," she dared, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Right fucking now."
Peter smirked, already reaching for his phone. "Here? You want me to order you a feast in the goddamn bathroom?"
Leana nodded, her heart pounding. "I want you to feed me until I can’t move," she breathed. "Unless you’re too scared?"
His eyes darkened. A second later, his phone was out, his thumb swiping open the delivery app. "You’re gonna regret challenging me," he growled.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Doubt it."
The screen lit up with greasy, gluttonous options—burgers oozing cheese, towers of fries, milkshakes thick enough to stand a spoon in. Peter’s finger hovered, then tapped select all.
Leana’s stomach clenched, but not with fear. With anticipation.
"Good boy," she purred.
And then she kissed him—hard.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one, her nails scraping lightly against his chest. "While we wait," she murmured against his lips, pushing the fabric aside, "let's make things a little more comfortable." His shirt peeled away, revealing the lean muscles beneath, still glistening with sweat from their earlier encounter.
Peter groaned into her mouth, his hands immediately going to her waist. "Fuck, you're eager," he breathed, fingers hooking into the waistband of her skirt. With one sharp tug, the zipper gave way and the fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing there in nothing but her bra and panties.
Her skirt lay discarded on the floor, forgotten. Peter's eyes raked over her, lingering on the curve of her hips, now only covered by a pair of black lace panties that did nothing to hide the thick swell of her thighs. "Christ, look at you," he muttered, his voice rough with want.
Leana smirked, reaching behind her to unsnap her bra. The straps slid down her arms in slow motion, and her breasts—heavy and full—spilled free, her nipples already hard and pebbled. Peter's breath hitched audibly, his gaze fixated on her tits like a starving man.
"Like what you see?" she teased, arching her back slightly to push them forward.
Peter didn't answer with words. His hands shot out, cupping her tits roughly, his thumbs immediately circling her nipples. "Fuck yes," he growled, pinching them just hard enough to make her gasp.
Leana moaned, her hips jerking forward of their own accord. "Your turn," she panted, her fingers going to his belt. She made quick work of the buckle, the leather sliding free with a sharp clink that echoed in the small space.
Peter grinned, watching as she undid the button of his pants. The zipper slid down with a soft hiss, revealing the thick outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs. He kicked off his shoes, then shoved his pants down his legs, stepping out of them without breaking contact.
Leana's mouth watered at the sight. She reached out, tracing the bulge in his underwear with one finger. "Not for long," she purred, grabbing the waistband and yanking them down in one swift motion.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. Leana gasped, her fingers wrapping around the base without hesitation. She began to stroke him slowly, her thumb swiping over the head to spread the wetness.
"Fuck, Leana," Peter groaned, his head falling back against the tiled wall with a thud. "You feel so fucking good."
She tightened her grip, picking up the pace, her nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin of his shaft. Peter's hips jerked forward, fucking into her fist, his breath coming in ragged pants. Her tubby body jiggled with her movements.
But he wasn't about to let her h
asty retreat stop him. In one fluid motion, Peter grabbed her wrist and yanked her back against him, her plush ass slamming into his groin. "Oh no you don't," he growled in her ear, his free hand sliding up to roughly squeeze one heavy breast. "We're just getting started."
Leana gasped as his fingers pinched her nipple hard, the sharp pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure already coursing through her. "Peter, we can't—" she started,
but his other hand was already sliding down her belly, fingers digging into the soft roll of fat above her panties.
He squeezed roughly, his thumb rubbing slow circles against her skin. "Yes, we fucking can," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you. All of you." His fingers dipped beneath the waistband, teasing the sensitive skin just above her mound.
Leana shivered, her resolve crumbling under his touch. The food delivery was probably already at reception, but right now all she could think about was his hands on her body. "But the food—" she stammered, her eyes darting towards the door.
Peter spun her around before she could finish, pressing her plush body against the cool tile wall. Her tits and fat stomach squished against the cold surface, nipples hardening instantly. "It can wait," he growled, his hands going to her waist.
With a sharp tug, he pulled her panties down, bunching the lace around her thickly padded thighs. Leana gasped as the air hit her bare skin, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Peter, someone could come in," she whispere
d, but her protest was weak, her body already arching toward him. His knee nudged her thighs wider, spreading her open like a feast laid out just for him.
"Fucking perfect," he growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. His breath was hot against her cunt as he leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her. Leana's fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.
She whimpered as his tongue found her clit, circling it with slow, torturo