Half the Woman
The Valentine present from Christopher Jones was far too large. He must have remembered Sophia from the days shortly after our marriage. She was large. Actually she was more than large, she was obese. She had been eating badly for years.
Five years later it was a joke between us. I complained that she was only half the woman I’d married. Then she was twice my weight. Now she’s lighter than me, and I admit it, more attractive than she was as my bride. Even all the wiles of the dressmaker couldn’t make her appear much slimmer than her vast size.
I married Sophia the woman, not Sophia the fat lady. I liked her long before we fell in love. Once married and settled into a domestic routine she started losing pounds a week. I went on the diet as well. Even I lost several kilos. Within two years Sophia had stopped wearing tent-like dresses. After three years she reached her ideal weight and has stayed there ever since.
There had been nothing fundamentally wrong with Sophia’s metabolism. She had lost her mother and stopped smoking in the same month but compensated by comfort eating. Once she had settled into our marriage she started eating sensibly. OK, I helped. I encouraged her without nagging, I supported her through the bad times when things went wrong at work or she had a disappointment. We replaced comfort eating with comfort lovemaking, which helped to burn off the calories. I let her do the work of making love even when I was flattened like a pancake under her heavy body.
As she shed her weight we started walking for exercise. She became fitter and the walks got longer. We started riding our bicycles around a couple of blocks, then a few miles until we rode twenty miles every evening around a network of cycle paths near our house.
Now we don’t need to do as much exercise but we still keep reasonably fit.
When the parcel arrived it was addressed to me. I opened it in our office. I was delighted with the workmanship on the red silk French knickers but disappointed when I opened them out. They would have fitted the Sophia I married but would fall off her now.
“What have you got there, Ken?” Sophia asked. “A present from a large lover? Are you missing the larger sized woman?”
“No, Sophia, you know there is only one woman in my life and she is you. This is a Valentine’s Day present from Christopher Jones of Silk Designs whatever. I think I am supposed to give them to you on the fourteenth of February but they don’t fit the slimline Sophia.”
“Toss them over here. Let me have a look, please.”
I threw them across to her desk. They ballooned out in the air covering both her hands as she caught them. She felt them reverently passing her hands around them.
“These are wonderful, Ken. If they were the right size I would be very pleased to get them on Valentine’s Day. They look and feel expensive.”
An odd look came over her face. My heart sank. That look usually means trouble for me. Sophia has some weird ideas from time to time.
“Take them back, Ken,” she said, rolling them into a ball and throwing them at me. They opened out again and ended their trajectory spread across my face to Sophia’s giggling delight.
“Suits you, Ken. Seriously, will you give them to me on Valentine’s Day? I would like to have them.”
“If you say so. You shall have them on Valentine’s Day with my love.”
“Thank you, Ken.” She walked across to me and gave me a lingering kiss.
“I had intended to take you out to dinner that evening. Do you want your present before or after dinner?”
“Afterwards, Ken, when we get home. Don’t eat or drink too much. You will need some energy for the late night entertainment.”
That thrilled me. An evening out with my wife who I still loved madly and needing energy afterwards seemed an ideal way to spend Valentine’s Day. It was a shame that we had to work during the day, but we did have a company to run. We had to live.
That was a few weeks ago. Now we were on the way back from the restaurant after our evening meal. It hadn’t been as great as we’d expected because too many other couples had the same idea. The restaurant had been crowded and the service staff were overwhelmed by the workload. It would have been better on any other evening. I made a mental note to take Sophia out for another meal in about a fortnight’s time when the restaurants would be less busy.
Even so we had enjoyed the break. We walked back to our house through the frost glistening park holding hands. It was too cold for most people to be out. Inside the front door we appreciated the central heating as we stripped off the layers of outer clothing.
I opened a drawer and took out the neatly wrapped parcel.
“This is my Valentine’s Day present to you, Sophia.”
She passed me her present. While she was struggling with her present I had opened mine to find a pair of cufflinks. I knew that they had been made by a local artist and were unique. I kissed her and said thank you. She was finding her parcel difficult. I had asked the packing room staff to make a good job of it. I passed her a pair of scissors.
“I didn’t expect to have to play ‘pass the parcel’,” she complained.
“I thought your present should be properly protected,” I lied. “Be careful, please. Some of the contents are fragile."”
That made her pause. She had been expecting only the French Knickers. She looked at me, one of those looks, before carefully cutting the parcel tape. Inside was a decorated cardboard box. She lifted off the lid. She touched the panties and felt the other present that I had put inside them. She unwrapped the panties and pulled out a large bottle of her favourite French perfume. It had cost me more money than I had thought reasonable even in the duty-free shop at the airport. The perfume seemed to be acceptable. She flung herself on me, kissing me fiercely. I soon forgot the price of the perfume.
She didn’t say thank you. Her kisses and cuddles were thanks enough. I couldn’t think of anything but her as her body squirmed delightedly against mine. She ended by sitting on my lap with my head buried in the hair trailing across her shoulder. I turned to kiss the half-hidden ear but met her lips again.