Letícia stood for a few minutes in front of the mirror before finally sighing and heading to the bathroom.
The cold floor beneath her feet made her shiver slightly. Still distracted by thoughts of Lucas, she began to slowly undress. First her blouse, pulling the fabric away from beneath her full, heavy breasts. Then her tight pants, unbuttoning and lowering the zipper at the same instant she felt the relief of finally being able to breathe freely without feeling the jeans constricting, even though she wore a triple extra-large size, and with some effort she removed the rest of the pants from her thick thighs.
When she stood naked before the bathroom mirror, the reality of her own body returned in full.
Her large belly hung firmly over her lower abdomen, soft and heavy, warm, swaying with each step, covering a part of her body that had been inaccessible to her for quite some time, forming soft waves of fat as she moved. There were faint marks on her skin where the waistband of her pants had pressed before. The sides of her waist, near her hips, were indeed so wide and exaggeratedly thicker than they should be, yet lacking in abundance compared to her disproportionate and epic "arrière." Her voluminous breasts rested heavily on her torso, following the slow movement of her breath.
She knew that body intimately.
She knew the way everything swayed when she walked. The heat trapped between the folds of her skin. The thickness of her thighs constantly rubbing together. The practical—but also humiliating—necessity of lifting her stomach with one hand to clean certain parts during a shower.
While doing this, she looked away from the mirror for a moment.
But then she remembered Lucas's gaze.
And that changed something.
Because for the first time in a long time, she wondered if anyone could look at that entire body without revulsion. Without judgment. Perhaps even with desire.
The hot water cascaded over her skin as confused thoughts swirled in her head. His smile. The note. The way he seemed genuinely happy talking to her.
When she got out of the shower, she wrapped the towel around her body and went back to the bedroom. She opened the closet drawer and took out her favorite blue pajamas—a loose t-shirt and short shorts made of soft fabric.
Or at least they used to be loose.
As she put them on, she immediately noticed how much tighter the fabric was than the last time. The t-shirt clung more to her stomach, outlining her rounded curve without hiding almost anything. The shorts were tight on her thighs and rode up a little when she walked, following the heavy sway of her hips.
She let out a low, humorless laugh.
Still, it was comfortable.
She sat on the bed with the box of donuts beside her and turned on the television just to fill the silence of the apartment. Then she opened the package.
The sweetness seemed to fill something inside her that she couldn't name. Each bite brought back memories of the diner, Lucas's voice, his smile calling her cute after knocking over chairs like a walking disaster.
When she realized it, the box was empty.
And she still wanted more.
She grabbed her phone almost without thinking and ordered a large family-size pizza and a huge tub of ice cream.
Forty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Letícia jumped out of bed with a speed she didn't usually possess, but for the food, the effort would be worth it. Her blue pajamas followed the movement of her body, stretching over her heavy belly as she almost ran to the door. Everything about her seemed to move along with it: the gentle sway of her wide hips, the rise and fall of her enormous buttocks, the softness of her arms, the movement of her thick thighs under her short shorts.
When she opened the door, the delivery man stood still for a second.
His eyes involuntarily traveled down her body before returning to her face. An automatic look. Assessing. Not exactly cruel… but familiar.
She knew and understood that look.
The kind of look that made silent calculations.
Pizza + ice cream = Fat woman.
His mind had probably already constructed the whole story.
The delivery man simply cleared his throat and extended the card machine.
She felt the heat rise to her face again as she took the order and swiped her card. His gaze lingered a little longer on her stomach, outlined by her tight pajamas, before looking away.
But sometimes silence said it all.
When she closed the door, Letícia leaned back against it and let out a heavy sigh.
Then she looked at the boxes in her hands.
And, against all logic, the first person she thought of wasn't the delivery man.
Letícia returned to the room carrying the pizza, the fries, the soda, and the enormous tub of ice cream; it was as if she were taking little treasures to bed.
The room was lit only by the television, which was on low volume, scattering lights of alternating colors across the walls. She settled onto the mattress, which sank under her weight, and with a heavy sigh leaned back against the headboard, leaning comfortably, already placing the pizza box on her voluminous belly.
Her blouse rode up, sliding across her soft skin as she moved briefly to pick up the slices, revealing the lower part of her body that hangs down when she's standing or sitting, while she breathed deeply, and as she chewed, savoring the pizza, she eagerly awaited sips of ice-cold soda.
She took bites that could easily have been the whole slice at once.
She immediately closed her eyes and relaxed carefree, simply eating, giving in to her gluttony naturally as usual.
The melted, warm cheese, the generously spread meat, the texture, the sauce, the salt… everything seemed to hit that part of her that was always hungry not just for food, but for the sensation of completely surrendering to the pleasure of eating without thinking about the consequences.
She let out a satisfied sigh.
Between slices, she drank soda straight from the bottle, without any ceremony. At one point, a loud burp escaped her throat.
She brought her hand to her mouth, widening her eyes for a second… but then she started laughing to herself.
Her laughter echoed through the empty room.
Despite her delicate manner, soft voice, and angelic face, there was also this careless side that emerged when she was alone. Her large body seemed full of small, difficult-to-control desires: sighs, low moans of satisfaction while eating, involuntary burps after the soda.
And strangely… she found it amusing.
Perhaps because she didn't need to feign elegance all the time when she was alone. Or perhaps because she hadn't yet explored the pleasure she derived from these natural bodily functions.
She continued devouring the pizza slowly, completely surrendered to the moment. The sauce discreetly stained her fingers. Crumbs fell onto her breasts and belly, outlined by the blue fabric. Her thick thighs spread across the bed as she settled in more and more lazily.
When she finished the last slice, she remained motionless for a few seconds.
Her belly seemed even bigger now.
Almost hard beneath the soft layer of fat that expanded under her tight pajamas. She placed one hand on her belly and felt the warm weight there, stretched by the amount of food.
A low moan escaped involuntarily.
The sensation was too intense.
The filling inside her seemed to provoke a strange, almost intimate numbness. A deep, bodily, almost sensual satisfaction. It was as if being so full awakened something difficult to explain—a slow warmth coursing through her body, an even greater awareness of her own flesh, its weight, its softness.
And then Lucas invaded her thoughts again.
“That’s how I noticed you.”
She bit her lower lip without realizing it.
Her heart raced slightly as she imagined if he could see her now: sprawled on the bed, stuffed, her enormous belly under her pajamas after devouring an entire pizza by herself.
The idea should embarrass her.
But it didn’t completely embarrass her.
She let out another burp, this one wetter and even louder, and then her eyes widened as she remembered the one about the potatoes and the ice cream.
—Oh no… there’s also you two.
So Letícia didn't wait a second before grabbing the fries; some had darker tones at the ends, promising an extra crunch that would surely make her very happy. She wasted no time and grabbed a generous handful, enthusiastically bringing them to her mouth. The sound was the crackling of the fries breaking between her teeth, followed by the softness of their interior, still slightly warm and very tasty. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and an involuntary smile appeared at the corner of her mouth as she reached for another, even more generous portion. One fries after another disappeared quickly. Letícia's hands moved almost without pause, guided by the perfect combination of hunger, desire, and pleasure. Grains of salt remained on her fingers, mixing with the grease and sauce of the pizza, but that was irrelevant compared to the mission of enjoying every bite. Of course, she would lick her fingers when she finished, while also getting rid of the rest of her soda.
The time had come for the flavor she loved most: ice cream.
She grabbed the enormous jar with almost childlike excitement. She didn't even bother looking for a bowl. She ate straight from the container, plunging the spoon into the icy cream with carefree greed.
The texture was incredibly creamy, yielding smoothly. Each time she brought the spoon to her mouth, she first felt the intense cold, followed by an explosion of flavors that spread across her palate. The dessert was balanced, rich, and enveloping, filling the experience with a feeling of comfort and satisfaction. Letícia focused entirely on that moment; the world around her fell silent, becoming secondary to the combination of creaminess, temperature, and flavor.
Each spoonful fed that gluttonous pleasure that grew within her without limits. Even completely full, she still wanted more. Always a little more.
When she realized it, the bottom of the jar appeared.
She blinked slowly, confused.
She laughed wearily, almost incredulous at herself.
Her whole body felt too heavy to lift. Her full belly pressed against her blue pajamas, protruding yet still soft, and fell shamelessly between her open legs. Sleep began to come quickly, irresistibly.
She simply dropped the empty container beside the bed, sank into the pillows, and drifted off almost immediately.
The next morning, she woke disoriented.
The television was still on.
Her fingers were slightly sticky with all the food residue.
And a blotch of dried chocolate lingered in the corner of her mouth.
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