Unexpected Affections Ch 38-41

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Chapter 38

‘Just keep with it,’ they said. ‘Soon you’ll start to crave it if you miss a session.’ ‘Don’t the endorphins feel great?’

You were absolutely, positively, utterly certain that you would never crave a workout at the gym. And no, you didn’t feel any damn endorphins from getting a ‘good pump’ or a ‘good sweat.’ You were too busy trying not to keel over and fucking die.

Hannah wasn’t actually trying to kill you, you were pretty sure. Sometimes it felt like she was, though.

April was spending the afternoon and evening with her friend Zara, so you’d been planning to get some gaming in since your regular Thursday gaming night was going towards meeting her. Then Hannah had gotten word that you were free, and an extra gym session had quickly been booked - and then she’d tortured you even more by making you walk home instead of hopping on the bus. Sure, it was only like 5 blocks, but the bus was right there…

You’d split up to shower and change at your own places, but it hadn’t taken long for her to be back at your door, grinning as she waved a bag of low-fat rice crisps that were somehow supposed to replace popcorn or chips as your snack for during the movie. Margot was out at the stables where she stabled her horse that evening, and Hikaru was working the late shift at the coffee shop so it was just you and your bestie for a few hours.

“You really think this is good?” Hannah asked, screwing up her face. She was lying with her head on the armrest of the couch, and she was short enough that you could sit at the far end and she only had to bend her knees a little to not touch you at all. Of course, this was Hannah, so since she apparently didn’t like the start of the movie and was getting bored she ended up playfully bugging you by pressing her feet against your thigh, kneading it like a cat doing the ‘making biscuits’ thing.

“I didn’t say it was good, I said it got good reviews,” you said. “We haven’t even gotten to the exciting parts. It’s supposed to get pretty gore-y in a comedic way.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Hannah sighed, turning onto her back and looking down the length of the couch at you. “What if we scrap the movie and start our Game of Thrones marathon again?”

“Really?” you asked in surprise. She’d begged off somewhere in the back half of the first season the last time you’d started.

“Sure,” she said. “It’s been a while since that awful fucking finale, and the early stuff was good.”

Cold Fish went the way of the Dodo, and you pulled up the HBO app and found where you’d last left off with Game of Thrones. Hannah took the opportunity to get up and head to the kitchen, fetching some more of the ‘rice puffs’ that tasted like styrofoam, and came back and sat next to you on the couch.

“Just start this episode from the beginning again so I remember where we’re at,” she prompted you.

You shrugged and did so, and she snuggled up against you and guided your arm around her shoulder so she could get comfortable. It was the ninth episode, the one where Khal Drogo was sick and Daenerys wanted to use blood magic to save him, and Tyrion fought in his first battle with his barbarian recruits. It was a pretty good one - and had the massive twist ending that had taken the world by fire.

About a third of the way through the episode Hannah shifted, laying down with her head pillowed on your thigh and grabbing your hand, holding it in yours. Your running commentary and banter, since you’d both seen the show before, continued unabated as you joked about the eventual fates of some of the characters, or where you’d recognised the actors in other shows or movies.

Then you got to the scene, about halfway through, where Bronn ‘finds’ Shae and delivers her to Tyrion. It was another one of those fun scenes between the two male characters but was also one of those classic Thrones scenes with unnecessary, gratuitous nudity that made the show so popular.

“She’s actually really pretty,” Hannah said when Shae pulled off her dress and bared her breasts to the camera. “And has nice tits.”

You coughed and chuckled at the same time, covering your mouth. “Sure,” you said.

“OK, Mr ‘My Girlfriend has Massive Knockers,’” Hannah laughed, sitting up. “For the rest of the world, those are nice tits. I mean, what, you think I’m not packing some heat just because I can’t drown a man in them?” She grabbed her chest through her tank top, cupping her breasts. They were small and petite, just like the rest of her, though the whole grabbing thing emphasised them a bit more.

“Hannah,” you chuckled.

She sat up on her knees, swinging her leg over your lap just like Shae sat on Tyrion on the screen. “You can’t tell me that a girl doing this isn’t kinda sexy, Ollie,” she said, grinning at you teasingly. “Even if she’s not April.”

“Fine, it’s kinda sexy,” you said, taking her with both hands on her waist and shifting her off of you as she cackled.

“Good, as long as you can admit it,” she said.

“Fine, I admit that Shae is a hot character, even if she does end up betraying Tyrion with his own father,” you said. “And boobs don’t need to be as big as April’s to be hot.”

“Finally,” she laughed, then slipped down onto her side and wiggled around a bit as she got comfortable with her head pillowed on your lap. The show had moved on during her teasing, and she sighed. “It’s too bad Khal Drogo couldn’t last longer in the show, he was the eye candy for the ladies. Him and Jaime.”

“Not Robb?”

“And Robb.”

“Jon Snow?”

“... and John Snow. Though it’s weird that he’s supposed to be like 14 or something at the start.”

*****

Hannah watched the big twist scene with glazed eyes, not really caring. Her ruse had worked right up to the point that she hadn’t gotten enough of a rise out of Ollie.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what April had said. Mammoth Cock.

Hannah loved Ollie, and now she was fantasising about him pretty much every night. Doing that thing that the character had on-screen had been a thrill - imagine if she did it for real, and pressed her body to Ollie’s, and kissed him? Or if she’d whipped off her top and shown him her breasts?

Would he like them?

Still, she hadn’t gotten confirmation of his giant dick. She’d been hoping that between the nudity in the show and her putting on a little teasing he might get a little hard and she’d feel it, laying on his lap. But no such luck.

Maybe he was really just into girls with big tits like April. Or maybe he didn’t know anything different.

Chapter 39

Parking your car, you got out and checked yourself over quickly. Your shirt was tucked in appropriately, you had the top couple of buttons undone like Hikaru had told you. Your fly was up, so no embarrassment waiting for you there. Deodorant was on. Shoes were tied. You had your wallet, phone, keys…

Why did you feel even more nervous now than you had the first time you were meeting April?

Zara was her friend. You weren’t even meeting April’s parents or something. But then, Zara was her ‘chosen’ family, so was that kind of more important?

And had April felt this nervous meeting Hannah? Or Hikaru and Margot?

‘I’m here,’ you texted April like she’d asked you to, and waited a minute before heading through the parking lot towards the front door. It wasn’t the kind of restaurant I would have picked - I would have thought we’d go to somewhere like a steakhouse, or equally fancy. Instead, April had texted that I should meet them at the China Buffet down on Central - I’d never been inside, but I’d driven past it more than enough times to know where it was and I was fully aware that the interior likely matched the exterior with its kitschy ‘authenticity’ and the dubious quality of food.

Not that I was against mediocre Westernised Chinese food, but the diet Hannah had me on meant I’d be crying over all my favourites that I couldn’t eat. No noodles - too many carbs. No lemon chicken - too much sugar in the sauce, and no breading allowed.

God I missed breading.

April met me at the door, coming out wearing a cute black dress with thick shoulders but a rectangular neck that showed off a nice amount of her cleavage that was bulging slightly from the bra she must have been wearing underneath. She was in her Converse shoes despite the dress and she skipped to meet you, her grin utterly contagious as you gave her one right back. You leaned in to meet her, the two of you falling into a firm kiss as you hugged. She moaned lightly, and it deepend when you let your hand slide down from her waist to her hip, and then partially down onto her ass.

“That’s my man,” she said with a playful look as she pulled away. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey, beautiful,” you replied. “Everything going OK so far?”

“It is, she’s in a good mood,” April said, looking your outfit over critically for a moment and adjusting the front of your shirt lightly before beaming up at you again. “You look nice.”

“You look stunning, like always, but thanks,” you said.

“Take my compliments seriously,” she scolded you lightly, taking your hands in hers. “You’re handsome, Ollie.”

“Thank you,” you said after a short sigh.

“So… I’ve told you a little about Zara, but I feel like I should warn you…”

“Uh oh,” you said.

“It’s not an ‘uh-oh’ thing,” April quickly assured you. “It’s more like she’s…”

“Got three eyes?”

“No,” April rolled her eyes.

“Three boobs?”

“No, she’s not the three-breasted alien from Total Recall or the one from Star Trek Five.”

You blinked. “Wait, hold on, there was a three-breasted alien in Star Trek Five?”

“It’s this, like, cat-lady dancer thing in the- You know what? Not important right now,” April said. “Zara doesn’t have three tits. Or arms, or anything else. She’s just kind of… prickly.”

“Prickly how?” you asked cautiously.

“Well, most people would probably call her a bitch. Except you can drop the ‘probably’ and replace it with ‘usually,’” April said. “But I promise that’s just her hard outer shell. Give her a chance, please. She’s kind of judgy and kind of uppity, but that’s just because she’s dealt with a lot of shit in her past and it’s how she coped. Anything weird she says or does tonight is because she’s worried I need protecting and stuff - if I needed to bury a body, she wouldn’t ask why, she’d ask if I needed to drop any more to make sure the secret stays quiet. That’s the kind of friend she is for me.”

“OK, OK,” you said, squeezing April’s hands. “I will reserve all judgment until… the third time we meet? That good?”

April winced a little. “Maybe… the fifth.”

“Reall?” you asked. “That long?”

“I promise you she’ll warm up to you. Just be the regular you and she won’t be able to withstand your charm for too long.”

“OK,” you said. “Reserving judgment for an undetermined amount of time. Anything else I need to know?”

“We did a little day drinking this afternoon, so… I’m kind of a little tipsy already,” April admitted with a grin. “Just a little.”

“Well, the food should-”

“And we already ordered a bottle of wine because we got here early.”

You blew out a breath. “So that’s the kind of night it’s going to be.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” April said with an innocent look as she bit her lower lip cutely. “And Zara will drink most of the wine, you know I’m more of a Cider girl.”

“Why does that not sound like a good thing?”

“What if I told you that I am super horny for you already, and after we drop her off at home later tonight I plan on cramming your entire mammoth cock down my throat?”

You blushed, looking around to make sure no one had been listening. Thankfully no families with little children had been about to pass by. “That sounds pretty fucking great,” you said with a chuckle.

She winked, took your hand and pulled you towards the door.

Chapter 40

“So you’re the famous ‘Oliver,’” Zara said as you sat down.

She hadn’t gotten up for a hug like you’d expected - that was usually the polite thing that girls did when meeting friends of their friends, you’d found. Nothing like that from Zara though. She sat almost imperiously on the other side of the table, swirling a glass of wine in one hand as she watched you and April walk through the restaurant. The place was exactly what you’d expected, with golden yellow lighting and about three different layers of ridiculously stereotypical ‘Asian’ decor. The buffet area looked clean, at least, and was filled with a bigger variety of food than they could possibly need - which was exactly what a red-blooded American wanted in his buffet. The tables were packed in tight and April and I had to squeeze between some of them on our way to Zara.

“I wouldn’t say I’m the famous Oliver,” you said. “I’m thankfully not an orphan.”

April snorted softly and rolled her eyes at me.

“You’re also not a hot English celebrity chef,” Zara said cooly. “But April seems to think you’re about as peachy as a Georgia fair.”

Zara was the kind of attractive that was almost too much. She had sharp, striking features and April had told you she was a model but you hadn’t expected her to look so much like a model. Her vibrant copper-red hair was a little washed out by the lighting but was like a carefully manicured mane with waves and soft ringlets that made it look like the most luxurious thing ever. Her makeup was perfectly applied and fierce, accenting her cheekbones, her lips and her intense blue eyes. And, you couldn’t have not noticed as you were walking up, she was wearing a slender red dress that hung from her shoulder by two thin strings, scooping deep in the front and showing off the centre of her chest and half of her small cleavage, somehow clinging on without a nipple slipping out. And her nipples had to be fighting whatever was holding them in because you could see the bumps of them on the sleek material.

You’d managed not to glance at them once you got to the table, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to fight the urge forever.

“He might not be a celebrity chef, but he can cook,” April said, giving you a sweet smile. “And I still need to cook for you - don’t let me forget, baby.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smiled, grinning at her.

“So what is it you actually do, Oliver?” Zara asked, leaning forward a little as she narrowed her eyes.

Thus began the interrogation. You’d expected it a bit, and April had warned you. What you hadn’t expected was how standoffish Zara was. You tried to turn questions around after answering them, or pivoting to ask more about Zara, but she stumped you at every attempt. You’d gotten through life as a fat man partially through your ability to talk with people, and you’d learned early that people liked to talk about themselves. About good things going on, giving the chance to brag about accomplishments or things they’d done or places they’d been. But especially about annoying things or ridiculous things.

Zara didn’t seem to want to reveal a single damn thing about herself to you unless she had to. You learned more about her from April prompting her than you did what she said herself.

“Let’s go get food,” April said after about ten minutes. “I’m hungry!”

“Mm,” Zara said, flashing a closed-lipped smile to April. “Sounds good, babe.” She stood up and made a point of looping her arm with April’s as the three of you headed towards the buffet lines. You followed and managed not to get caught looking at their butts when Zara glanced back with a suspicious look. They were both wearing dresses that got a little more billowy at the waist and down into the skirt so it wasn’t like you could really see anything anyway. You were a little concerned about the length of Zara’s if you really were ending up bowling after dinner.

You really let it go when you got to the buffet and had to focus on what you were and were not allowed to eat based on Hannah’s diet. It was a lot more than you’d been expecting, and your stomach grumbled in protest at all the delicious, mouth-watering food you passed by. You were about halfway through the buffet, your plate less than half-full, when April sidled up next to you and gave you a gentle hip bump. “So, not a great start I guess,” she said.

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

“Oh, I don’t mean you, I mean her,” April said. “You’re doing fine. More than fine. She knows you’re trying, which does mean something even if she’ll make it seem like a bad thing.”

You set your plate down and shook your head, glancing at April. “I’m reserving judgment,” you said like it was a mantra.

“Thank you, baby,” April said, going up on her toes and pursing her lips. You leaned down and gave her a kiss, but were interrupted by an older woman clearing her throat because she expected you to keep moving.

Once your plate was ‘full’ you headed back to the table. Zara was already there, and April wasn’t.

Shit.

“Find anything really good?” you asked as you sat down.

“April and I have been coming here for like a decade,” Zara said curtly. “The last time they added something it was a new ice cream flavour and that was three years ago.”

“So the food is even better than it smells, or you guys really like this lighting,” you joked.

Was that a flash of a smile, or did you imagine it?

“We keep coming back here because it’s tradition,” Zara said. “We have lots of traditions. So you need to learn quickly that I’m not going to put up with any shit from your end. Got it?”

“No one’s ever called me an ape,” you said.

She looked at you a little incredulously.

“Because I don’t fling shit,” you said. “Like an ape.”

She rolled her eyes and dug into her food, and April thankfully returned to the table and blessedly started taking more command of the conversation. She told stories and seemed to prompt Zara into adding ‘missing details,’ about them in high school. She got Zara to talk about a few of the more famous people she’d met doing modelling work. Zara shot right back by pointing out stories of who April had met doing voice-over work and managed to take a few digs at you by bringing up a couple of guys April had dated.

You let the bad stuff wash off your back, telling yourself, ‘Be a duck.’

The three of you went up for a second round of food, and you limited yourself even more than the first time, crying on the inside but feeling more determined than ever to stick with your diet. Zara hadn’t said anything about your weight, but you could feel the judgement. She didn’t think you were good enough for April - and the most apparent element of that was how mismatched you and April were physically. She may not have been model-thin like Zara, but she was healthy. You weren’t. People stared at both of them because they were attractive in their different ways, people stared at you because of your sheer size.

Returning to the table with a plate of some raw veggies and a couple of slices of sausage wasn’t exciting, but it was an act of sheer willpower you may not have had before you got together with April.

The three of you were into your second plates, and Zara was finishing the last of her wine while you drank Coke Zero (another disappointment) and April had a cider, when the redhead set her cutlery down and leaned forward. “Alright,” she said. “I’m tired of beating around the bush. What the fuck are your intentions with my best friend?”

“Um,” you said.”Well-”

“Zara,” April chided.

“What? It’s a fair question,” she said, then focused on me again. “You met her through a contest. Why did you even enter it? Did you fantasise about meeting her, building up a plan to try and convince her to date you?”

“No,” you said, a little more forcefully than you intended, and you dropped your voice lower because other patrons were looking over at your table. “I didn’t even ‘enter’ a contest - my friend Hannah wanted me to try a new dating app and made an account and profile for me. We only found out about the contest after that, and she made me promise to do the swiping I had to do to get a chance at winning. And sure, I had a ‘wouldn’t it be neat to meet April’ moment, but that was all. I never expected… everything else.”

“So you never jerked off thinking about her?” Zara asked.

“Zara!” April hissed.

“Answer the question,” Zara said. “You already admitted earlier you had a nerd crush on her because of her work.”

“I can honestly say that no, I never jerked off thinking about April before we met,” you said, then glanced at April. “Afterwards is a bit of a different story.”

April blushed and grinned at the same time, knowing that you were talking about your brief phone sex escapades. She turned to Zara. “Totally inappropriate question, Zara. Stop making this fucking weird.”

Zara shrugged, leaning back and draining the last of the wine from her glass. “He doesn’t make sense, April,” she said. “He’s too…” she gestured at me generally, like she was making sense. “But also…” she kept gesturing.

“Take him at face value,” April said, apparently having understood what her friend was saying.

“No one is ever actually at face value,” Zara said.

“Try,” April said, reaching across the table and grabbing her friend’s hand. “Please. For me.” Then April glanced at me. “Could you give us a minute, please?”

“Sure,” you said and leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before standing up. Before you stepped away you looked at Zara. “I’m falling for April,” you said. “We’re not at that… stage yet, but I’m not ashamed to admit it. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I know it. So if you’re worried about me hurting her, know that I intend to do everything I can not to ever do that.”

You walked away, weaving through the tables, without waiting for a response.

Chapter 41

You went to the washroom, and then went and paid the bill for all three of you at the front, before heading back to the table. When you got there April was sipping the last of her cider and Zara was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, somehow looking completely unapproachable and also making her small amount of cleavage bulge enticingly at the same time. You managed not to glance at it except when you were far enough away it wouldn’t be noticeable.

“Need more time?” you asked as you stepped up next to April’s chair.

“We’re ready to go,” Zara said, standing up abruptly and going around the other side of the table, heading for the exit.

“We’re ready to go,” April said, a little exasperated, as she stood as well. She gave you a quick side hug and a reassuring look before you both followed Zara. When you got to the front, April coughed pointedly. “Zara.”

“What?” Zara asked, having already strutted towards the exit.

“We’re not dining and dashing,” April said.

“Either he’s smart enough that he already paid for us when he was out here, or he’s not smart enough to do that and he’ll pay for us now,” Zara said and turned back towards the door.

“Zara!” April said in surprise.

“She’s not wrong,” you said, hoping to keep things smooth. “I did pay for us all while I was up here.”

“But you shouldn’t have, Ollie,” April frowned. “I invited you out, and Zara is my friend.”

“And we agreed that we both get to treat and spoil each other, right?” you pointed out. “This is supposed to be a fun night meeting your best friend - I’m treating you and her.”

She sighed and shook her head, then took your hand as she accepted it. Once you were outside and found Zara waiting for you impatiently she pointedly stopped and turned, summoning you down for a kiss. You happily followed through with that want, and she made sure you kissed for what would have been an unreasonable amount of time if you were being polite. When it was over, April looked at Zara. “Rude,” she said.

“OK, snog-fest,” Zara snorted. “Now where’s your car, Oliver? You’re driving, we’ve both been drinking.”

You led them through the parking lot to your car and went around to open the passenger door for April.

“This is your car?” Zara asked, looking clearly unimpressed.

“It’s a clean, working vehicle, Zara,” April said. “Just because you sometimes run in circles with guys who have ugly, loud sports cars doesn’t mean every guy needs to own one.”

“But it’s a Civic,” Zara said.

“You drive a Civic,” April said.

“That’s what I mean!”

“I live in the city,” you pointed out. “I don’t even need a car. The only reason I have one is so I can go visit family whenever I want, or go on trips to other nearby cities.”

“Whatever,” she said and opened the back door as you held open the front for April. 

They both got in and shut the doors, but you could have sworn you heard April say, ‘What did I say about not being a cunt anymore?’

You got in, feeling self-conscious about how the car shifted with your weight, and buckled up. “Are we heading somewhere specific?” you asked.

April had the directions, and the conversation lulled a bit during the drive. The bowling alley was newer, with lots of lights outside to make it look more like a bright, entertaining place instead of the rundown dive you’d kind of come to expect from bowling alleys. It also had a ridiculous name, ‘Alley Social,’ and was also a bar. Inside place looked like it could have hosted corporate parties and had twenty lanes of bowling backed by a bar lit almost entirely by bright fluorescent multi-coloured tube lights.

A pretty hostess welcomed you, and April ordered up a lane and the three of you went through the process of getting your rental shoes before heading to your lane.

Things got… interesting, once you all sat down to put them on.

April had worn socks with her sneakers, so she just kicked off her shoes and started to put on the slightly goofy shoes that wouldn’t go with her dress at all. Zara, however, has worn strappy heels with her dress so she had to pull out a pair of socks from her little purse and start putting them on. You were bending over, taking off your own shoes, when you glanced across your communal sitting area and almost choked on your own spit.

Zara’s dress was short, but you hadn’t realised how short while walking around upright or with her sitting behind the table at dinner. Now it sat high on her thighs, and when she shifted to pull on one of her socks it spread her legs more than enough for you to have a clear look right at the little red thong she was wearing and the fact that it had shifted a little and one of her pussy lips was peaking out.

You sat up quickly, coughing and blinking the water from your eyes at the shock of both the unintentional glimpse and inhaling your own spit. April quickly sat up as well, patting your shoulder. “You OK?” she asked in concern. You managed to nod, clearing your throat heavily.

Once your throat was clear, and you’d wiped your eyes, you leaned down and dropped your voice to a whisper. “You should warn Zara she’s, uh, exposing herself.”

When you pulled back April gave you a confused look with one eyebrow raised, then looked over at her friend. Zara had paused for a moment at your coughing but had put on her other sock and was leaning down to tie her bowling shoe. Legs slightly spread. The angle should have been more risky for revealing her bust, but somehow the dress remained in place up top.

“Zara,” April said, shooting to her feet when she saw it.

“What?” Zara asked, sitting back up questioningly.

April grabbed her hands and urged her to stand up, then started pulling her towards the bathrooms - Zara wearing one shoe and April in her socks. “We’ll be right back,” April said over her shoulder.

You shook your head a little incredulously. That was definitely not what you’d been expecting to see.

“Hey, my man,” a guy said, leaning over the seating from the lane next to yours. “Just checking, is one of those chicks your sister? ‘Cause my buddies and I think they are both smokin’ hot, but we don’t want to make it awkward and flirt with a sister in front of her bro.”

On the one hand, you were a little surprised at the… politeness of the request. But it also hurt, because the guy looked like he could have been named Chad and it would have fit. He and his buddies were dressed for a night out and could have all been on some sports team together. And they thought it was more likely you were related to one of the girls instead of dating one.

“I’m actually dating the shorter one,” you said honestly. “And, to be honest, we’re pretty smitten with each other right now. Her friend is totally single though, if you want to give that a shot.”

“Dude, nice,” the guy said, offering me a handshake. “Good for you, and thanks for the heads-up.”

“No problem,” you said, shaking it.

He turned back to his group. “Guy says the redhead is single!”

“Nice,” someone else said.

You shook your head. Either Zara was going to be happy with the distraction of a bunch of guys hitting on her, or she was going to give them the same cold treatment you were receiving. Either way, you were hopefully going to get a short reprieve from her ire.