----- Chapter 2 ------

            Light flooded from the tall living room windows as Cheryl shook me awake. We had both slept on the couch, and in the middle of the night I had become pinned against her body. As my eyes opened she kissed me on the forehead.

            “Morning Dale.” She sat up, stretched, and let out a long yawn.

            I sat up myself. Had I really just spent the whole night on the couch next to Cheryl? It suddenly seemed a little weird. I looked over at my mom. She was holding her stomach, which was rumbling angrily.

            “Are you hungry Cheryl?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

            The woman next to me hugged me with one arm as a token of appreciation before leaning back down into the couch. “Go make me some breakfast Dale.” She happily pointed towards the kitchen.

            I headed into the kitchen and fried up some eggs for her. I also made toast for both of us. Despite not eating anything last night, I still wasn’t too hungry. I left myself one slice of toast and put the rest on my mom’s plate. She had looked pretty famished, and she was going to need it.

            As I carried the plates into our big living room, I could see Cheryl sprawled out on the couch. She’d taken her stockings off, and her exposed feet were dangling off of the armrest. Her deep pink toenail polish shone brilliantly in the morning light. She moved her bare feet out of the way as I sat down.

            “I made you some eggs and toast.” I said as I offered her the plate. She accepted it greedily, eager to eat.

            “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked with her mouthful, pointing at my nearly empty plate with her fork.

            I tried a bite of toast and set it back down, uninterested. “Not particularly. How’s the eggs?”

            “Fantastic. Make more.” She said between gulps. “And get me some milk.”

            I was pretty shocked. Cheryl’s appetite had sky rocketed, for no apparent reason. I was beginning to get concerned.

            “Isn’t that quite a lot? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been eating a lot lately.”

            The starving woman hardly paused, speaking between mouthfuls. “I know. I’m just hungry. It’s ok Dale.” She assured me as she grabbed the rest of my toast right off my plate and shoved it down her gullet.

            I brought her a gallon of milk and went back to the kitchen, frying up another half dozen eggs. Cheryl demolished both the eggs and the entire gallon of milk. I sat next to her and watched with an odd curiosity as she ate. It was strangely satisfying to me to see her so pleased, to see her enjoying something I had made for her.

            She finished quickly, her stomach visibly stuffed. I carried her dishes away as she curled up on the couch. By the time I came back she was sound asleep again, her pretty feet propped up on the edge of the armrest again.

            As a specimen of female beauty, she truly wasn’t bad looking. In fact, I’ll admit, she looked pretty good at that moment. She had smaller breasts, but a tight, packaged form. Her hips weren’t wide, but they had a bit of womanly curve to them. For a woman she was taller than average, at around 5’8”. Her face had considerably attractive features, particularly her large green eyes and plump lips. It was a shame no men were interested in her, and I began to wonder what their problem was.

            As I gazed down at her I caught the familiar aroma of that perfume of hers. It smelled so good, so feminine, aromatic and enthralling. It took all my willpower to leave her side and start my day.

            I headed upstairs and spent the next several hours working at my computer. It was the weekend, so Cheryl didn’t have to do anything, but I still did. As I worked I couldn’t help but listen to what was going on downstairs. Sometime in the afternoon, my mother got up and made herself even more food. I could hear her gorging herself on anything that was in our pantry. I was worried that she might be seriously depressed, crushed by too many rejections and eating to make herself feel better. I decided I’d maybe bring it up to her later.

            Later that afternoon Trisha came by, and the two women had coffee. I could vaguely hear them talking about a variety of things. Mostly business stuff, but they did touch on their personal lives a bit. I wasn’t sure if the conversation really helped, because after Trisha left Cheryl went right for the pantry again.

            I came down much later in the evening, and my mother had crashed on the couch yet again. I went to the kitchen and checked our cupboards and food supply only to discover she had eaten us out of house and home. The shelves were bare! How was that even possible?

            Cheryl was asleep on the couch, and all the lights were off. I walked into the dark living room and put out my hand to shake her awake and confront her on all of this. I didn’t want to turn the lights on, as nobody likes to be rudely awakened with their eyes unadjusted to the light.

            As I put my hand out, I felt my fingers touch a soft smooth patch of skin. Groping in the darkness I tried to find her shoulder. My thumb suddenly brushed against a rougher circular part and rested against a marble-like ball of wrinkly flesh.

            I felt my face go flush as I realized what my hand was on. Cheryl realized it too, and she suddenly bolted upwards, covering her bare chest with her arms.

            “What are you doing!” she murmured, half asleep still. I could hardly make her out in the darkness of the night.

            “I was trying to wake you up! What were you doing without a shirt on!?” My voice squeaked, shocked at what had just happened.

            Cheryl sighed and flopped back down, exhausted and exasperated. “I got uncomfortable, so I took it off.” She fumbled around in the darkness. “There. I’m decent now.”

            I was still a bit shocked at what I had accidently just touched. I’d never really felt a breast before. Guilty pleasure flowed through me, as I secretly admitted to myself that it had felt good. Additionally, her perfume scent filled my nose again, distracting me with its intoxicating aroma.

            My adoptive mother sighed again, obviously wanting me to tell her why I’d disturbed her.

            “Cheryl, what happened to all our food?” I suddenly blurted, remembering why I was there.

            “I ate it,” she admitted matter-of-factly. “You need to get more tomorrow. I’ll make you a list.”

            This was all really confusing. “A-are you feeling ok?” I sputtered.

            “Why do you ask that?” I heard her sit up, intrigued that I was taking such an interest in her.

            “It’s just… you’ve been eating a lot lately. I’m concerned for you. I think maybe you’re depressed.”

            Cheryl laughed a girly little laugh. “Really? That’s why you woke me up?”

            I was a bit angry she was taking this so nonchalantly, even laughing at my concerns for her. Yet I replied sheepishly.

“…yeah.”

            “That’s sweet.”                      

            “Yeah.”

            “Come lay down.” I heard her pat the couch.

            My mind immediately said no, but for some unexplainable reason I desperately wanted to. What I did know is that I couldn’t get enough of that wonderful scent. I was suddenly compelled to just grab her and bury my face in her chest, to take in more of that aroma. It was driving me mad.

            I felt her hand grab my own, snake up my arm and grip my elbow. Slowly she pulled me down closer to her. I couldn’t resist, and my mind simply shut off.

            The woman pulled me over on top of her, then rolled and pinned me against the back of the couch. Her arms and legs wrapped around me, and I took in glorious amounts of her scent. It was all around me, permeating everything, injecting into my nose and tickling my brain, almost drug like. And for whatever reason, I loved it.

            In seconds I was solidly asleep, unaware that when I awoke my life as I knew it would begin changing rapidly.