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The firm yet supple surface gives a little under my shoes. It stretches for what seems like forever in front of me, heat radiating off of it, warming me. High above me is a white arch, stretching into the sky, decorated with little ornamental gems that I'm not sure are real. As I advance towards the horizon, I approach a long stretch of gold in the ground. Bending down to touch it, it's still warm to the touch. I turn to my side and there's another long, thin stretch. They're numbers. 11. Then I feel the floor trembling.

Large brown finger tips close around me and I'm gently picked up.

"Silly you", Nita says, her voice like thunder, "you've accidentally climbed Devi's shoe again!" Sure. Let's go with that.

Her hand soars into the sky and she carries me into the kitchen. Her mother and sister have already begun eating.

"Put him on my plate, honey", says her mother, "I feel like having an appetizer." I know she's just joking, but the way she laughs makes her fat belly jiggle under her tight dress. Like most Indians, they're vegetarians.

 

Nita puts me down next to her plate, where she's placed my little dinner set. It's like a real dinner table with a chair, and it has tiny plates and silverware my size. There's no tiny food, so Nita dutifully takes a tiny spoonful of her curry and dumps it onto my plate.

Of course it's still way too much, and overflows, drenching my whole table. I don't care, and start to dig in. Luckily all these slow-cooked curries are pretty soft, so I can easily cut off pieces with my tiny knife and fork and eat them myself. Sometimes I get a bit bored with the vegetarian cuisine. Other times, I'm happy that these beings that are hundreds of times my size don't have an appetite for flesh.

Devi is quiet as usual. Even when she's eating dinner she manages to look mysterious and majestic. Her perfect, straight posture. The long, flowing, black hair that she keeps open, draping around her face and almost down to the table. Nita has almost the same hair, of course, but she mostly keeps it in a ponytail. I like the ponytail, but whatever Devi's doing with her hair works.

 

I finish quickly and watch them eating. Nita, unaware as usual, is humming some sort of melody between bites and exchanges a few pleasantries with her mother. Her mother doesn't really respond much, as she's busy destroying what seems like an olympic swimming pool full of food. This woman is a mountain. Relatively tall for a woman, she's probably always been meaty, with those Indian hips and buttocks. But she's definitely let herself go over the years, what with the two pregnancies, and now she's just enormous.

She's not wearing the customary sari today, so I can't see her bare belly. But her gut is still stretching out that colorful dress, so she has to lean forward to even reach the table over her thick stomach. This crushes her broad tits between her ribcage and her belly, and it also causes her to be out of breath while stuffing her face. Each time her lips open, she hastily shoves in another spoonful of curry, chews two or three times, then gulps in another mouthful of air. I suspect that her ample breasts are giving her trouble breathing, especially when she's hunched over like that. Spoon after spoon disappears up into that greedy feeding hole.

Devi's mostly watching me watch the others. Due to her stomach condition, she never eats much. I don't remember if she's already finished or if she hasn't started touching her plate, as I can't see over the rim of it. She wears a poker face, as always.

Devi's not actually a vegetarian, she just can't eat meat. One of the first times Nita brought me home, Devi actually told me she'd eat me in a heartbeat - but then she'd spend the night on the toilet, so she'd let me go just this one time. I don't know if she pulls that story with everybody, but so far, I'm alive.

I wonder if Devi heard her sister, scolding me for climbing the sandals. I think Devi kind of knows I have a thing for her, but she's playing the icy older lady, either amused by my boyish crush on my girlfriend's older sister, or pretending to be. I climb Nita's sandals too, but they're just ratty plastic flip-flops. Devi's are elaborate, elegant patent leather. And frankly, Devi just has nicer feet. Longer toes, more ladylike, no calluses. Probably because she just hangs around the house all day, unlike Nita, who's more of an outdoorsy type.

 

***

 

On our first date, Nita and I actually went on a hike. They say hike, but it was more like going for a walk. For Nita, I assume, it was a walk around the block.

Due to our size difference, she'd only make a few steps, then wait for me to catch up. While it was hard to lose track of someone that tall, I'd have to figure out how to get around or over the terrain that she was just stepping on, barely aware of hills, valleys, or forests.

Indian girls love to walk around barefoot, and Nita was no exception. She'd stripped her worn flip-flops off at the parking lot and was carrying them in her hand. Muscular, stubby, brown toes soared above me and touched down a dozen feet to my left, depressing a vast area of flowers and shrubs. I could see the powerful muscles of her arch stabilizing her, and distributing her immense weight onto the ground. A flock of birds flew noisily from a nearby tree, clearly disturbed by the commotion.

Her gold ankle chain catches the sunlight, and she steps onto the forest, trees yielding to the enormous force of her food instantly. As her toes dig deep into the ground to find traction, I wonder how much of the local wildlife will be flattened into a paste underneath her during our hike.

 

***

 

A sudden noise pulls me out of my daydream. Everybody has finished eating, and Nita's mom is getting up. The vibration was caused by her belly forcefully pushing against the dining table, shaking my tiny table set like the toy it really is.

I watch in awe as this mountainous woman moves almost in slow motion, then disappears into the dinstance in the huge kitchen.

"Did you like it, or was it too spicy?", asks Nita.

"It was fine", I say, "thanks."

"My tummy is actually a little irritated", Devi says, "if only there was some remedy. Something I could swallow down right now, into my belly, to make me feel better." She stares straight at me.

A rumble from the distant mom, if anyone else wants ice cream. I'm not sure ice cream is what she needs, but hey, what am I going to say to her? She probably has lumps of food stuck between her teeth larger than me.

"That ice cream might actually be good for your stomach", Nita tells Devi, completely oblivious as usual.

"Maybe it'll help settle down, so my big, bad, belly can digest all those little things I ate today", Devi agrees. Still the stare.

I turn as the shadow of the mother approaches. At this scale, everytime any of them move, you just have to look. It's like an avalanche, you can't not look. A tub of ice cream comes crashing down not too far from me. It's one of those ridiculous Ben & Jerry's flavors that consist more of little chocolate pieces, whole nuts, banana chips, or whatever, than actual ice cream. Lots of little goodies to melt in somebody's mouth and slide down a greedy throat into a big, brown belly.

 

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