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~=~ Author's Notes ~=~
Hi all, thank you for joining me in another adventure featuring our unlikely fictional couple! Much to my own surprise, this chapter forgoes my usual size-related kinks, but there's still plenty of body-related magic to go around, as well as the sexiest magic of all: mutual love and respect.
If that kind of thing gets your motor running, please consider leaving a comment. I'm always striving to improve my writing, so any advice, suggestions, or criticism are highly appreciated! I don't write very often, but knowing that people are excited to read my stories is the best motivation in the world!
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I didn't want to wake up. It was too early to wake up. There should be a rule where you don't have to wake up if the sun isn't even up yet. And besides, I was having such a great dream! Well, more of a wet dream, really. There was a lady who turned into a devil or something, and she grew a massive pair of boobs and gave me a giant cock. Maybe I could go back to that dream if I fell back to sleep right away. I turned over and tried to think sleepy thoughts.
But something was wrong. I felt a disturbance in the Force. Against all sense and good reason, I opened my eyes to the pre-dawn gloom.
There she was. Azalea. Asleep in my bed in my house. And naked. And wrapped up in about eighty-five percent of the covers.
Then it was all true. Meeting her, the weird contract, the sex, the kissing, me having a... a girlfriend...
There was no chance of me going back to sleep anymore. The weight of the entire situation came back to me, just as strong as it was yesterday, along with a host of new questions. Had I gone too far last night? Had I not gone far enough? What was I expected to do now? Should I wake her up or let her sleep?
It was all too much. Overthinking things like that hadn't done me any good last night, and it wouldn't do any good now. I slowly drew in a breath and held it for a few seconds before taking a controlled breath out, forcing myself to calm down and take things one step at a time. First things first, what's my next move? I just woke up next to my new girlfriend, what do I do now? I thought back to the few romcoms I'd seen, and I was struck with inspiration...
β¦ β¦ β¦
Azalea came into the kitchen a few hours later, back to her previous proportions and wearing a pair of very fuzzy red pajama pants and a baggy black t-shirt. She still looked half asleep, her hair was a mess, her left slipper was almost completely slipped off, and she shuffled into the room like a zombie. To my eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and a wide, dopey grin broke out across my face just from seeing her.
"Good morning, Azalea! Would you like some breakfast?" I gestured with my omelette-flipping utensil of choice toward the series of dishes that I spent the morning preparing. A stack of fluffy pancakes, with maple syrup and butter on standby. Several strips of bacon, perfectly cooked in the sweetspot between brittle and chewy. A pot of coffee, with sugar and cream at the ready. A bowl of fruit salad, which may or may not have been picked up from the grocery store and transplanted into a serving bowl. And the showstopper: the spinach and mushroom omelette still cooking in the pan in front of me.
"What..?" Azalea croaked groggily, rubbing the sleep out of one eye. "What's this?"
"Breakfast! Dig in, I made enough for two," I said with an awkward little flourish. Then I had a thought that I should have had at some point in the last few hours. "Oh, sorry, do you even, like, eat? I guess I should have asked, but I didn't want to wake you up."
"Questions later. Coffee now," she grumbled. Azalea shambled further into the kitchen to pour a mug of coffee, adding a dab of cream to her dark bean juice. She took a seat at the table, letting out a moan of ecstasy as she took the first sip of joe. I finished up cooking while she finished off the mug, slowly coming back to life. "Ahhh! That's so much better," she said when the last sip was gone.
"Not much of a morning person, I take it?"
"Not since you discovered coffee. Or invented it or whatever." Azalea heaved a content sigh. "Okay, now I'm ready for questions."
"Okay. Uh, I should have asked this earlier, but do you even eat food? Obviously you just drank some coffee, but what about all this?" I gestured again to the food.
"I don't need to. I don't need the nutrients to survive, but I can still eat. And I can still enjoy the taste, which it smells like I will!"
"Awesome, then I'll make you a plate!" I did my best to serve up breakfast in two equal portions. Each plate got a short stack of flapjacks, a couple strips of bacon, and half of the omelette. I put the plates down on the table and the fruit salad in between, when Azalea held out her coffee mug, giving it a little swirl and batting her eyelashes at me pleadingly. My breath caught for a few seconds before my brain kicked in, and I poured us each a mug and brought over the pancake toppings and coffee fixings. She again poured a small glug of cream and forewent sugar, where I gave mine a large glug and two full scoops. With breakfast served, we began a conversation between bites.
"Andrew, this is all so good!" Azalea said once she had a bite of everything. "I had no idea you could cook like this. Where did you learn it?"
"From my family. I learned it from my Mom, who learned it from Grandpa James. Whenever we all got together, everyone chipped in to cook." I reached for the syrup and poured a hearty drizzle on my pancakes, adding a big ol' slab of butter on top. "It's a lot of work, but it's worth it for, you know, special occasions."
"So I count as a special occasion? Andrew, I'm flattered." Azalea smiled as she reached across the table and placed her hand on mine.
I must have turned beet red, and I'm sure Azalea noticed because she let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, well," I rambled, trying to distract myself from the embarrassment, "it's also a lot cheaper than eating out. It won't always be this much of a production, but I wanted to make a good first impression."
"That's fine. I don't mind keeping things simple. As long as I get to do another kind of eating, too..." she said, bringing a forkfull of omelette to her mouth and wiggling her eyebrows at me. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she was implying, which was good because I was certainly operating at sub-genius levels at the moment.
"Oh. Umm, yeah, uh, how often do you -- uh we -- need to, like, do that?" My face felt like it was glowing in the visible spectrum, but I figured this conversation needed to happen at some point.
"Why? Was last night really that bad?" Azalea asked with a concerned frown. I was about to burst out with something that would probably embarrass me further when her frown turned into a playful smile. "I'm just teasing! Sorry, I'll try to rein that in. It depends on a few things. Using magic makes me hungry. The more I use it, the more hungry I get."
"So what we did last night, are you, uh, 'hungry' after that?
"Oh, absolutely not," she said, waving her fork dismissively and reaching for her coffee mug with her other hand. She took a sip and said, "First off, sex magic is easy. The easier it is for me to understand how the magic will lead to sex, the less hungry I get. And it usually pays off several times over with the energy I can feed on during the act. Last night was a very large net positive."
"Okay, that makes sense. Is there, like, an upper limit? What happens when you get 'full'?"
Azalea set down her mug and looked at me quizzically. "I don't know. I haven't thought about that in a long time. I know that I've never been 'full' before, so I don't know what would happen if I was. Assuming that I can even get 'full,' which I'm not sure can even happen..." She swirled her coffee around, staring at the rippling surface as if she might find an answer within its caffeinated depths.
Unsure of what to say, I took a few more bites of the breakfast on my plate. Once the silence had just passed the threshold into awkward, I asked, "So what happens if you don't use any magic? Can you just... exist forever?"
"Probably not forever, but I doubt I'll ever find out, or if any of my kind will for that matter. Looking like somebody else uses just a little bit all the time, so me looking like Connie right now is slowly draining the tank, so to speak. Doing small things like that will eventually lead me to starve, but I would need to go for weeks or months without eating."