Growing into the Job, Post 627: Parallels: Friday Meeting (No Coffee), p1 (Patreon)

Melissa stopped on the front walk and looked up at it.

“Omig-d, Randi,” she gasped. 

Dr. J stood beside her, one hand tucked into his coat pocket, looking from the house to Melissa and back again. “What?” he asked. Was there something wrong?

“Nothing,” she grinned, “It’s cute.”

The house was smaller than Melissa had expected. Not small, exactly. It was, like, probably a perfectly respectable three-bedroom lakehouse for perfectly respectable, normal-sized people who did not have to duck slightly beneath the porch beam while carrying three bags at once.

Jay could have walked under the same beam without noticing it was there. Standing beside her, the top of his head barely came up around her hip, which made the little house seem monumental for him and the whole rest of the world increasingly too small for her.

It was, though! Cute, that is. The house. And totally big enough for what she had in mind for the weekend.

The little cedar-sided house sat maybe thirty yards back and a bunch of steps up from the lake beneath tall black pines, its windows glowing amber against the deep blue of the evening. Somebody had left a porch light on for them. Beyond the house, through evergreen branches, the lake reflected the last thin stripe of sunset. It looked like a place where a normal couple came for a normal weekend: wine, a fireplace, blankets, maybe cards. Normal couple stuff.

Melissa shifted the overnight bags higher against her hip and something heavy shifted with her. She stopped smiling for half a second. The soft taupe knit dress she’d put on that morning had been snug at 8am. Now the ribbed fabric lay stretched smooth over her hips and pulled hard across her chest, the little collar framing a neckline that seemed to have spent the day getting lower all by itself.

Ow.

Okay. Fine.

She had known she was full. She had not realized quite how full until she had stood up from the restaurant.

The drive from there had taken twelve minutes. She knew because she had watched every single one of them tick down on the dashboard while pretending not to watch the clock. Twelve minutes. Eleven. Ten. At eight, Jay had asked if she was okay. At six, she had told him she was fantastic again. At four, she had adjusted the seat belt. At two, she had nearly pulled the car over. Now she was here. And everything was fine. Totally fine. Normal weekend.

Ow. 

She didn’t want to rush things. This should be perfect. 

Deep breath, Missy. Relax, she told herself, that’s better. 

Melissa marched up the porch steps. The second board groaned under her weight. She looked down and pointed at the offending lumber. “Don’t you start.”

Jay gave a tiny laugh behind her. “Now you’re talking to the front porch steps?” 

She looked back over her shoulder and her grin sparkled. “There he is.”

“Wh-what?” he answered. 

“That little laugh, a joke,” she giggled, “I haven’t heard much from you since dinner.” She bit her lip, looked down at her boyfriend of - how long had it been? Five weeks? How far they’d come! Thinking again of what she had planned for them, this weekend, she could only imagine where they’d be at ten weeks? Ten months? “You’ve been getting shy with me suddenly?”

He immediately looked embarrassed. Melissa softened. “Hey,” she said, shifting all three bags into one hand, easily, and reaching down with the other, “C’mere.”

He took it. His hand nearly disappeared inside hers…and that still did something to her every time. Another pang in her chest. Melissa breathed, squeezed his hand gently and unlocked the door. Randi had given her a key earlier. 

Warm air greeted them, carrying the faint scent of pine cleaner and fireplace. Randi had apparently arranged for the heat to be turned up before they arrived, knowing how chilly he gets. Good girl, Melissa thought, but he has me now. She considered turning it back down again. 

Not just yet. 

“Okay,” she announced as she stepped inside, “this is adorable.”

She flicked on another light. The living area held a stone fireplace, a big soft couch, a small kitchen, and sliding doors facing the lake. Around the corner there was another separate sitting room with a television. A woven basket of firewood aside the hearth sat under a little sign on the wall that said LAKE TIME.

“Super adorable!” Melissa commented. Jay had followed her gaze, chuckled, and she felt it. She cocked one eyebrow at him. 

“I d-didn’t say anything,” he stammered, apologizing already.

“You were going to...” she retorted, wryly. 

“I wasn’t!” 

“You were going to make fun of the sign! You think it’s corny!” she exclaimed, “Or of me!! You think I’m corny!!”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile. 

Melissa gasped theatrically, bringing her free hand to her over-swollen chest. Her palm landed against taut beige knit and an amount of breast that made the gesture considerably more dramatic than she had intended; the jiggles made his eyes nearly pop. “You do think I’m corny!!”

That got another laugh.

Good. Better.

She leaned to drop the bags beside the couch and immediately regretted the motion as pressure rolled through her chest, deep and insistent. This bra she was wearing - one of her most sturdy, all things considered - was doing its best but struggled to contain her swollen boobs. So was the dress. The taupe knit stretched across her chest in a broad, nearly unbroken curve, ribs of fabric spread wide and the front pulled so tight she could feel every breath move through it. Between the bra, the dress and the nursing pads, there were a lot of increasingly unhappy layers trying to pretend everything was under control. 

She straightened very slowly and looked at him. He had turned toward the lake and missed her moment of discomfort.

Good.

Melissa exhaled through her nose. Her body had been extraordinarily cooperative about all of this - readying itself for him. Enthusiastic, even. Maybe too enthusiastic.

But she had a plan.

She had been thinking about this weekend all day. Longer than that, really. She had imagined the house, the quiet, the privacy. She had imagined she and him without phones ringing or girls bursting through doors or somebody asking her to approve a purchase order or go out for drinks. She was not going to let the first five minutes here dissolve into some kind of frantic biological emergency and soak through three pads and her dress. 

Nope. I am Melissa Monroe, she told herself, using the same tone she would use for her manifestations when looking herself in the eyes in the mirror, I am an adult woman. I am in control of my own body.

Her body pulsed another objection. Melissa was able to ignore it. Barely. 

“Wine,” she declared.

Jay turned around. “W-wine?”

“Wine,” she answered. The bottle Randi had asked to be left on the counter was red and looked expensive enough. Already stepping into the little kitchen area, and looking for a corkscrew, she continued. “People drink wine at lakehouses.”

“Do they?”

“I think so?” she answered, opening cupboards until she found - among the dishware and juice tumblers - two wine glasses. No corkscrew, yet. But one glass was enormous, one was tiny.

Randi, again. Melissa lifted them from the cabinet by the stems, looked at them, then at Jay, then back at the glasses.

Jay started laughing again, and reached for the little one. 

Wine? they were both thinking, considering his stomach. But this was a nice bottle, she could read it on his face as he - stretching his little arms up to turn the label towards himself - looked it over. He was impressed. Randi knew what he liked. Some kind of red wine he called “Malback”.

Melissa smiled faintly at the label, able to read it perfectly even from this distance. Okay, not “Malback.” But of course it started with an “M”. Cute. Apparently his favorite things were developing a theme. Like “Melissa” or “Mother’s Mi-”

Eek! - that made her chest hurt a little more!

She let him try to open the wine, with the corkscrew she’d finally found, but he’d lost too much strength. She did it for him. She poured too much into hers and just a little into his. She looked at the two glasses. “That seem good?”

Jay held his up, brow knitted.

Melissa looked at him as he looked at the wine. Did he want more? At his size? It woul- oh. Right.

“Oh,” she said. It’s funny how quickly weird things could become normal.

Melissa took his little glass from him, lifted it to her mouth and took most of the wine in - one swallow without swallowing. Immediately she remembered the taste. She rolled it around her tongue for a second, cheeks puffing slightly, then leaned over his glass and let it pour carefully back in.

Jay had watched the whole thing. A few months ago he probably would have died. A couple weeks ago - lunch, Randi, promotion, they’d done this with red wine then - he was mortified.

Now he just took the glass back.

Melissa wiped the corner of her mouth with one finger. “There,” she announced, raising her glass, “Cheers.”

His eyebrows went up. “Cheers,” he acknowledged. 

Melissa’s smile softened, and their glasses - his looking tiny next to hers - clinked. She took one sip, then another. Then Jay tasted his, and she watched him. He considered it seriously for a moment, which made Melissa watch him more. 

“Well?” she finally asked. 

He swallowed. “It’s good.”

“Just good?”

Jay took another little sip, making a show now of thinking about it. “It’s a Malbec. Dark fruit. Plum. Maybe blackberry in this one.”

Melissa nodded solemnly, as though she knew what any of that meant.

His mouth twitched. “And...a little spit on the finish.”

She stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Does it improve it?”

Jay eyed her. “What, your saliva?” He took another sip.

Paused. 

“...yeah.”

Something low and warm moved through her. “Good answer,” she told him, just wryly enough. Melissa took one more sip, then another, and decided she wanted to see the lake.

The porch wrapped around the back of the house with some outdoor seating - a couch, a couple padded chairs - beneath the roof and a wide bench against the railing. Somebody had folded blankets into a basket beside the door.

Melissa carried the wine, Jay got the blanket.

Outside, the cold had touched her face immediately. Not that it bothered her. The most recent batteries of tests at Evolution had shown that she could withstand things really, really cold. Also really, really hot. And see across things like…well, this lake. 

The lake itself had almost vanished into darkness. What little remained of the sky lay in long violet bands across the water. Far away, one house showed a single yellow light between the trees. She could tell they had forgotten to close the screen door. 

Melissa sat on the couch. It creaked. 

“I guess everybody has something to say about my weight tonight,” she joked. Looking down, she realized that one hip had consumed most of the available real estate. She scooted over, then patted the cushion next to herself. 

Jay smiled and sat beside her. He cuddled in against one of her massive thighs, fitting into her waist, his little shoulder fitting her side. His own legs looked absurdly slight beside hers.

She saw the size difference, bit her lower lip to keep from sighing, and unfolded the blanket to drape it over both of them - mostly him. She tucked it around his legs. “There,” she tutted. 

“I wasn’t cold...” he insisted, “…not with you here.”

“I know,” she said, her voice softer now, “I just like doing it.” Melissa looked out at the lake. There, see? she told herself, Normal. This is normal. A woman and the man she loved sitting together beside a lake with wine. Perfect. She took another sip as Jay leaned against her side - more perfect. She put one arm around him - even better.

For several minutes neither of them said much. Somewhere far out on the dark water something called, one long, hollow note that seemed much farther away than it probably was.

Jay listened. “Loon,” he said, “late in the season. Maybe a juvenile.”

Melissa looked down at him, an amused smile. He was so little. “You know birds now, baby?”

“I know…some birds, sure,” he answered, “I was a bio major, took some animal behavior classes at Amherst…” 

The wine warmed her stomach as she let him talk, the cold sharpening the air and somewhere near the shoreline, water touched rock with a small, repetitive sound. She could hear it all, plus the sound of that bird paddling in the water and the screen door closing across the lake. 

Melissa began to relax. But then Jay shifted against her, his shoulder brushing her chest, and her entire body reacted. “Nnnnhhgh!!” she inhaled sharply.

Jay froze.  “S-sorry…!” he blurted, “Are y-you o-“

She laughed. “No, honey. No - I’m fine,” she assured him, settling herself, “You’re fine.”

He looked up at her, and Melissa smiled: normal smile, everything normal. She took another drink.

Normal? Her body obviously had other ideas. The pressure had become difficult to ignore now. Sitting still somehow made it worse. Every breath reminded her of it. Every little movement beneath her dress seemed amplified.

She tried shifting her shoulders. Nope. Different position? Worse. She crossed one leg over the other. Why would that help? She uncrossed them.

Jay, meanwhile, was watching. Melissa was rarely antsy. “You don’t look comfortable,” he said. 

Melissa stared at him. “I am extremely comfortable,” she told him. Seeing how he looked unconvinced, she poked him gently in the shoulder. “Drink your wine.”

He did. 

Melissa took another swallow of hers. As normal as can be. She sat up straighter. Then, because apparently she was not going to get out of this moment that easily, Jay rested his head against her. Not against her shoulder, but lower: boob. 

Melissa went completely still.

His cheek had settled against the great swell of her chest, the stretched rib-knit warm beneath his face. At his size there was so much of her there that he did not so much lean against Melissa as fit into her. That did not go unnoticed by her. 

“Can you breathe?” she was able to ask. 

His muffled answer came from somewhere against her.

“That sounded like a ‘yes’,” she managed, chuckling. She looked down for him and found only the crown of his head tucked close against her. She felt him sigh, just a little sigh, comfortable and trusting.

Melissa forgot to breathe when something deep inside her tightened painfully. She closed her eyes and scolded her mammary glands: Ohhhhh, come on..! She had wanted this - that was the ridiculous part! Couldn’t they hold on just a little longer?? She had engineered practically everything leading here: the weekend, the house, his empty stomach, the privacy. She’d also spent the entire afternoon thinking about how she would introduce the idea, how gently she would explain it, how she would make him feel safe, and how she would tell him that there was nothing embarrassing about what he wanted. Nothing strange. Nothing wrong.

She had imagined being confident, calm, maternal. Maybe even a little smug. She had not imagined sitting on a porch trying not to squirm while her own body screamed at her to hurry up.

Jay shifted again and Melissa made a tiny sound. His head lifted immediately. “D-does that hurt?” he asked, tentatively. 

“Wh-what?”

He looked toward her chest, then quickly back at her face. “That.”

Melissa followed his glance, and for a second she just stared at him. Wait. He KNOWS? She had spent half the day walking around feeling like she was carrying the world’s most enormous secret inside a bra that was near-bursting trying to contain it. She’d thought she was being subtle. Well, y’know…Melissa-subtle. “You…know??” she asked.

Jay’s face changed immediately, some mixture of embarrassment and oh shit, was I not supposed to know? “I mean…I kinda f-figured...”

Melissa blinked.

His eyes flicked downward again. “…that you’re, um...”

Melissa actually looked down at herself, as if this evidence had somehow escaped her. Right. Okay. Her boobs were huge. Even for her. Everything looked heavy, swollen, overfull. Her dress was stretched tight across them, the knit pulled almost smooth, the skin above the neckline taut enough that blue veins showed beneath it. The upper curves of her breasts pressed high and full, everything swollen enough that even she had to admit there was not much subtlety left in the situation.

Maybe she had not exactly been radiating mystery, and that she’d begun to lactate was not the world’s best-kept secret. “A little sore, yeah,” she admitted, and saw how Jay’s eyebrows drew together, in an expression of concern.

He’s worried. For me. Melissa felt something in her chest that had nothing to do with pressure. “It’s okay,” she said, “It’s just…a little bit. I’m swollen.”

He nodded slowly. Apparently they had been talking around it all day - or all week, maybe much longer than either of them realized - without Melissa realizing quite how much she had actually said, or how much he had noticed. She waited for him to get embarrassed, to look away, to change the subject.

He did none of those things. Instead, he looked at her, and the porch suddenly seemed very quiet. 

Melissa smiled, but it came out smaller than usual. Though right now she’d love to, she’d promised not to try to read his feelings, with her powers - but honestly she didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know there must be a lot of thoughts going through that tiny head of his. “What?” she asked, with a little giggle. 

Jay swallowed. “N-n-nothing,” he stammered. He was nervous too. 

“Uh-huh.” She watched him look at the lake, then back at her. Her extraordinary senses could feel the change in temperature from his skin, and his face was already turning pink. He’s adorable when he’s nervous. 

Melissa knew the face, and she almost rescued him, almost made a joke, almost said something about the wine or the stupid sign - because that was what Melissa did when Jay got overwhelmed. She helped, guided, made the next thing easier. Sometimes.

But tonight something stopped her. Maybe it was curiosity, or some instinct, or some quieter part of her that understood that helping him right now meant not helping. So instead Melissa waited as Jay stared down into his little wineglass.

“I was thinking about what you said, at dinner,” he said, finally. 

Melissa’s heartbeat changed. “What part?”

He gave the tiniest shrug. “The...taking care of me part.”

The world contracted. Not with drama, or thunder or some supernatural pulse through the earth resonating from the seven foot woman in the minidress. Just the porch, the lake, and the man beneath her arm.

Melissa put her wineglass carefully on the little table beside her. “Okay.”

Jay still would not look at her, and she could feel how tense he had become. Usually that would have made her rush in. Not tonight.

“Tell me,” she said, keeping her voice even. 

He took a breath, stopped, and tried again.

Melissa’s hand moved almost without thought, rubbing slowly between his shoulder blades. “You can tell me anything,” she assured him. 

“I…I know,” he said. 

Another pause. She saw how he was struggling with something, lots of things. And she knew what they probably were. Then, very quietly, he spoke. “Could you...” 

He stopped. Melissa waited. His hand had tightened around the edge of the blanket.

“Could I what, baby?” she breathed, holding her breath. 

His face went red, and for one instant she thought he might retreat completely. But then he looked up at her and asked…

“Could you feed me?”

Melissa Monroe forgot every word she knew. She stared down at him.

Jay immediately panicked. He’d seen the change in her face. “I mean, I know…” he stammered, “I know it’s weird and maybe you weren’t actually-”

“Jay.”

He stopped. Melissa was still staring at him, looking like something enormous had just happened inside her, golden-green eyes glimmering bright in the half-light of early night. 

She had spent weeks learning what she thought power felt like. Power was lifting him effortlessly, right? Power was walking into a room and feeling people turn toward her, watch her, listen to her. Power was watching impossible things happen because she wanted them badly enough. Power was feeling women she loved from miles away, and making them grow stronger. Power was knowing that, increasingly, the world moved differently around Melissa Monroe.

This was not that.

This was so much better!

She had not coaxed him, or teased it out of him, or overwhelmed him until surrender became easier than resistance. He had looked at her…and asked.

Melissa felt tears sting unexpectedly behind her eyes. “Oh, Jay,” she whispered.

He looked terrified now. Not terrified of her, but of having said the wrong thing. That snapped her back.

“Oh, baby. No,” she managed, taking his wine glass from him and setting it down, too. Then she turned toward him and gathered him carefully into her arms. “Don’t you dare think you said something wrong.”

Jay absolutely disappeared against her. From where Melissa sat, one arm was enough to fold most of him against the soft, overstrained front of her dress. Her breasts consumed his head, and Melissa held him there, one big hand cradling the back of his skull.

“No, no, no,” she breathed, “you didn’t say anything wrong.”

“I…I didn’t?” he mumbled into her tits. 

She laughed once. It came out shaky. “No.” She kissed his hair, eyes closed, and for a moment she simply held him. All of her plans were gone.

Good. She did not want them anymore.

Melissa shifted one arm beneath him and stood.

Jay gave a small startled sound as the couch cushion dropped away beneath him, but she already had him, tucked securely against the enormous, cocooning warmth of her body. “M-Melissa..?” he stammered. 

She looked down at him. For once there was no joke waiting, in either of them.

“Okay, come on, baby,” she whispered, taking the first natural step in becoming the person she believed she was meant to be, “Let’s go inside...”

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