Doom-mates - Dinner Bell

You arrive at your girlfriend Volly’s place. You hear her call out to greet you as you come in the door, since she’s preoccupied as usual, and the smell hits your nose right as you move through the door.  Whatever she’s cooking, it’s delicious. Oh christ and she’s baking biscuits too.

 “Hey babe!” you say, walking in to the kitchen. She has her back to you, and you can see all of her curves in one go. She’s not wearing much, the result of her kind’s average physique. Her hips are massively wide, providing a substantial rear-shelf. Which she has actually used as a shelf once or twice while cooking, not to much great effect, but still. She’s got a pair of black panties stretched haphazardly around that gorgeous bubble butt, not much else. You see the straps of her apron tied around her back.

There’s a stigma that anyone who’d date a Mancubus is a chubby chaser, but you say if liking thicc girls is wrong you don’t wanna be right.

She turns around, sampling a wooden spoon-full of some kind of sauce, she smiles warmly then licks her lips clean of stray sauce. Her soft round face framed by her flowing mocha hair.

You can fully appreciate her beauty now. She’s built like a fertility idol int he best of ways. Some mancubi self consciously transferred almost all of their got mass into breasts and hips to try and “fit in” better with human standards. But your girl Volly? While she’s stacked both ends to no end, she’s still got plenty of a big soft belly.

She’s wearing her favorite apron, covered in little cartoon cows. The thing’s just barely covering her bosom enough to technically preserve her dignity. Honestly the thing’s just for show, as creamy smooth her caramel colored skin is, that stuff could stop bullets. It’s why her kind were considered the tanks of hell.

“So glad you’re here honey,” she says, her voice as warm and lively as ever. “I just discovered the most delightful pot-roast recipe, and I’ve been experimenting with substituting blood-worm steak, since we had so much leftover, and I think it’s shaping up wonderfully!”

Every other day she was trying out some new kitchen experiment, toiling in the kitchen with an arsenal of cookware.

Mancubi’s naturally gluttonous nature had blossomed here on mars, their pallets collectively maturing once they encountered finely prepared cuisine. With a lack of fighting to do, most took their food obsession into a passion for cooking, and Mancubi were quickly becoming known as the best cooks on Mars. Another upside of dating a mancubus was becoming one of their trusted “taste-testers”.

You’d been hitting the gym constantly just to keep up with her decadent menu.

You quickly pull in for as good as an embrace you can give someone so big, and give her a deep kiss. You can taste the sauce on her lips. It’s damn good. Your hands feel her soft, almost rubbery skin squish between your fingers.

She pushes you back slightly, giggling. “Honey! Honestly, if you want a taste I’ll serve you up a plate in just a minute!”

“Sorry hun,” you say, shrugging sheepishly. “Hard to resist a dish like you.”

She blushes at your usage of her pet name, one of many. “Oh stop!”

You sniff the air a bit, once again detecting the scent of freshly baked biscuits, a good lot of ‘em. “Something special going on?” You ask. She was of course the go-to caterer for her circle of friends, so she often cooked in large batches for parties and pot-lucks and what-have-you.

“Oh, yes! Vereth, you know Vereth from the book club? Well, Vereth asked if I could help cater for this weekly meeting for this little group she’s a part of.”

“What is it?”

“Not entirely sure. She said it was sort of a help group for demons having a hard time adjusting here. You know Vereth, she never seemed comfortable in her new body, so of course I said it sounded like a delightful idea!”

“Huh. Sounds… nice. Must be hard for a lot of folks to adjust, huh?”

“You’ve no idea dear. Some girls I know just can’t get over the past. It’s rough.” She sighed, thoughts trailing off fair away.

You felt a pang of concern. “You aren’t struggling with anything like that, are you honey?”

She snaps back to the present and smiles reassuringly. “Oh no sweety, with you and my kitchen, I’m in paradise. Speaking of which!” She quickly pivoted back to her cooking, sending her body into a fit of gelatinous quaking that made the blood rush far away from your head.

“Get yourself a seat honey, it’s just about done!” She rang. You obeyed, pulling yourself up a chair from the kitchen table, and watched her work.

The massive gauntlets at the end her arms quickly whirr’d and ka-chunk’d, deploying a grabbing claw and a large ladle, respectively. Nearly every Mancubus had their arm-mounted cannons replaces with what were essentially massive swiss-army knives of cooling utensils. Quickly she grabbed a plate and poured out a portion of her evening’s masterpiece. She laid it in front of you and that glorious odor was hitting you at full force. Pale cuts of bloodworm meat swam in a deep brown sauce, flanked by carrots and pearl onions.

You, like most humans, had initially balked at the idea of eating the meat of gigantic burrowing hell-worms, but one serving from her and all reservations were immediately deported.

Your first bite was heaven. You couldn’t stop yourself from audibly MMM’ng at the taste. “Mph, JEEEZUS honey, you keep feeding me stuff like this and one day I will just, literally explode I’ll be so helpless to stop.”

“Oh enough flattery, it’s nothing special!” She said, blushing and sitting down into her huge reinforced chair. You saw she’d served herself a portion three times as large, and began to eat with a similarly huge spoon. “Mmmmn, okay, maybe not. *Shllrrrp*” She indulged in four big spoonfuls before speaking again. “So would you consider this a success?”

“Volly, if that’s in question, I fear daring to try what DOES fit your standard for that.”

“Stop it you! I swear, you’ll make my head inflate with all your flattery!” She said laughing. “But thanks. I can always trust your taste-buds.”

“Is that the only part of my body you like?” You say, smirking.

She nearly snorts out her mouthful of food. “Fresh!” She says, batting her grabber claw in your direction. “Mmm, but I -do- love a good cut of meat~” She added, giving you bedroom eyes. “In fact, I’d love to have a helping right now~” She purred, licking her lips. “Mm, but I need to scoot. This food’s not going to make it to the rec-center by itself, no matter how fresh it is!”

She stood up, grabbed her plate, brought it to her lips and downed the last of her meal in a few deep gulps, excess sauce dribbling down her chin. “Aaaahh….” She sighed, eyes hazy from a quick  food-binge high. She snapped out of it instantaneously and started preparing her feast for transport. Pouring out the pot-roast into a potable container, bringing out the biscuits and, making sure to leave one for you, covering them up in tin foil.

“Need any help carrying it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Honey you ask that every time, and every time I tell you I’m just fine.” Without effort, she lifted the massive container of roast and set it by the kitchen door. As soft her plushy body appeared to be, underneath all that chub were muscles of steel. “I’ll be back once the event is over, so feel free to help yourself to any leftovers in the fridge while I’m out.”

She drew up closer to him and drew him into a squishy embrace. “And when I get back, we can have dessert~” She whispered, locking lips with him and kissing him -hungrily-. And god could she get hungry.

You reached around and gave her left butt-cheek a good hard squeeze, making her jolt, squeak in surprise, then purr lustfully in that order. “Now now, no dessert til you finish your supper.”

She peppered your forehead with a much more chaste smooch, then picked up her goodies and started to leave. “Love you honey!”

“Love you too.” You reply, waving her off as she goes to be the great provider for whatever that group is.

You look back down at your plate, realizing there was still a heaping helping of food left.

You’re going to have to start putting in more hours at the gym, you think, just before you spoon up another mouthful.