“Is that a…” Laurel said, peering at the sheaf of papers.
“…A deed,” I said, flipping through the pages.
“A deed!” Laurel squealed, “A deed to what?”
“A house.”
“Come on, let’s go look at it!” Laurel grabbed my arm, bouncing in excitement.
“Calm down, spaz. It isn’t going anywhere. We can wait for Nate to get back from his meeting.”
“Aww,” she whined at me.
“But we can go to the inn and have some food and drink, how does that sound?” I said, playing on her weakness of a nice bottle of wine.
“Muu. OK. Let’s go,” She flounced away cutely, headed back to the central plaza.
***
Three bottles in, Laurel was quite drunk. I was amazed at the accuracy of the buzz that the alcohol had given me. Clearly Laurel approved. She eyed the remains of the roast that sat before us. She took the knife that lay beside it and carved off a large piece and began gnawing on it with a contented look on her face. Laurel’s jaw dropped as a look of realization took hold.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“We need desserts! Lots of them!”
“OK, babe. We’ll order some,” I snagged the meat she had been working on from her now greasy hand.
“You don’t get it! This is a game. I can’t get fat!”
“OK OK!” Relax!
“Cake! NOW!” She staggered to her feet, and cast her eyes around the room.
The eyes of the other patrons cast disgusted looks at Laurel who was quickly becoming a nuisance. I stood, and pulled her back to her seat, where she struggled weakly to stand again.
“Excuse me ma’am, Can we get some cake and pie here?” I waved at the waitress who had been leaning out of the kitchen, watching the situation develop. She ducked back into the kitchen and returned shortly with a platter of desserts.
Laurel’s eyes lit with hungry lust, and shoved a handful of cake into her mouth. As she devoured the confection, tears began flowing down into the cake she was shoveling into her mouth.
“Mnnmnnn mnnnmm mnnnm” She said around the mouthful (and then some) of cake.
I took a napkin and began wiping her face clean of the meal she had been overindulging in.
“It’s so damned good,” She said reaching for the pie with one hand, and grabbing a fork with the other.
I was a bit shocked. I knew she got a little rowdy (and more than a little horny) after a bit of wine, but was shocked at this depraved woman, ravenously consuming cake, pie and anything else that caught her eye.
“What’s got you in a frenzy, Spaz?” I asked
“I can’t get fat! This is a game! For so long, I’ve had to restrain myself. Finally I can let go.” She slurred as she leaned back against the chair and sniffed loudly, rubbing the back of her hand against her nose.
“Woo! How long has that been bottled up?” I leaned in and kissed her tears away, the saltiness mixed with the sweetness of the frosting that had recently covered her face.
She laughed, and pulled me in for a proper kiss. Her tongue hungry for mine.
“Too long.”