Comely Consumer
“Welcome to the Hayburger, home of the hayburger,” Anon droned, staring glassy-eyed across the counter. “How can I help you today?”
"I'll have two number nines, a number nine large, a number six with extra dip, a number seven, two number forty-fives, one with cheese, and a large soda,” a portly stallion intoned, peering up at the expansive menu.
Anon rang the customer up and waved the stallion over to await the gastronomic apocalypse of grease, cheese, and gluten, and semi-artificial ingredients. Working at the Hayburger wasn’t the worst thing in the world, requiring nearly no thought, yet it was far from a fulfilling job. As the hefty patron stepped to the side, he turned his attention back to the queue, did a double take, and went rigid.
He wasn’t surprised to see Leech, given her proclivity for sub-par dining, but he was taken aback by what she was wearing. Instead of any sort of conventional attire, such as the t-shirts and snugly-fitting shorts she favored, the tall, shapely mare was adorned in what looked like - no, what was a curtain from their house. Wrapped around her like a toga, voluminous fabric hugged her weighty chest, ample hips, and presumably her prodigious posterior.
“Hi, honey!” she chirped, shooting forward and wrapping her arms around him.
Hastily gathering himself, he gently pushed her away and freed himself. “Lee - Mom, I’m working!”
Beaming down at him, she straightened up and placed a paper bag on the counter. “I know, sweetheart, but you forgot your lunch this morning.”
As much as he appreciated her kindly gesture, her unexpected appearance was the last thing he needed. For starters, her bizarre choice of clothing, full-figure, and gargantuan size drew amorous looks from customers and his coworkers alike - secondly, there were at least a dozen ponies waiting in line to order. He turned his head, glanced at the clock behind him, and gave a sigh of relief.
“I can take my lunch break in a few minutes,” he noted, nodding over to the dining area. “If you want to wait, I’d be happy to join you shortly.”
Grinning from ear to ear, she squinted up at the placard of combos hung from the ceiling. “Now then - what to get…”
He waited and impatiently tapped his foot, hoping she’d make her selection and get out of the way - alas, she took her sweet time. “So - um - do you know what you want?”
“I’d like a chicken sandwich, sweet potato fries, and a diet lemonade,” she hummed. “Oh and can I get a parfait too?”
Nodding and hastily punched her order into the register, he scowled at a young stallion who was eyeing her backside. “Alright - I’ll bring your food out in a few minutes.”
Fuck if he could say why she’d discovered a new use for one of their curtains, yet he didn’t have the time or energy to question it. Practically shooing her away, waving his hands as she tried to give him a peck on the cheek, he pulled several bits from his pocket, paid for her meal, and got back to work. While he would have - should have been more annoyed with her, he couldn’t be angry.
For all her eccentricities and dubious decisions, Leech really did care for him. His actual parents hadn’t ever brought him food while he’d been on the clock, nor did they regularly make him breakfast or ask how his day had been, elevating her standing in his eyes. After several more minutes of tending to customers, he switched places with a coworker, took the tray with her order, and wandered into the dining area.
Leech waved at him from a corner booth, making herself less inconspicuous than she already was. “I’m over here!”
“I know,” he groaned, weaving past tables to seat himself opposite from her. Placing her meal down and sliding it over to her, he was presented with the bagged lunch she’d brought. “Thanks for this.”
“Don’t mention it,” she giggled, resting her hand on his forearm. “I couldn’t let my special little man go hungry ~ could I?”
He nervously smiled, opening the paper bag and peering inside. Though he didn’t have many regrets involving her, he wished he’d never proclaimed he was her man - not because the poolside ploy hadn’t worked, but because she’d started using the term with him more and more frequently. The development wouldn’t have been that bad if the particular phrase didn’t have romantic implications, but that wasn’t the case. Intended or not, she inadvertently advertised that they were an item.
Unwrapping and bringing the chicken sandwich to her muzzle, she opened her mouth and helped herself to a rather sizable bite. As if her makeshift toga didn’t make her a spectacle, the sight of a grown mare eating meat garnered her even more awestruck looks. There weren’t many if any equines that openly consumed flesh, yet she had no reservations about showing off her omnivorous diet to the public.
“So,” he began, causing her to peer over at him, “what’s up with all this?”
She peeked down at herself, adjusted the cloth over her chest to better cover her cleavage, and swallowed. “The toga?”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
Washing down the bite with a sip from her drink, she gave a small shrug. “I just thought it would look cute.”
“You got your clothes dirty this morning ~ didn’t you?” he asserted, not buying her explanation for a second.
Her shoulders wilted, a blush into her cheeks, and her smile wavering. “N…no…”
She had - she totally had. Aside from all her other peculiarities, she wasn’t what he’d call graceful in the slightest. Cooking, gardening, grocery shopping - hell, even the most simple tasks typically resulted in her having to shower off and do a load of laundry. He wasn’t particularly bothered by how often she made messes, since she always cleaned up after herself, but it would be nice if she wasn’t so clumsy.
Watching her sink her teeth into the grilled chicken, he lifted a brow. Her fang-like canines and eyes were singular, traits he hadn’t seen in other ponies around in Equestria - well besides the few bat-ponies he’d run across. Peering over at him, chewing her mouthful, she cocked her head.
“What?” she asked. “Is there something on my face?”
Shaking his head, he thrust a hand into his lunch bag. “I was just wondering about your teeth.”
“My teeth?” she parroted. Swinging her jaw open, she tapped one elongated tooth with a finger. “Don’t tell me there’s something stuck in them…”
“Nah,” he snickered, lifting a caesar wrap she’d made for him up to his face.
Helping himself to a bite, he savored the combination of lettuce, cheese, and baked chicken. For all her faults, she was actually a decent cook. As a drop of dressing rolled down his chin, she extended an arm and wiped his face with a napkin.
“And you say I’m the messy one,” she mused
“Takes one to know one,” he countered, reaching over and rubbing a dollop of mayo from her cheek.
Attempting to withdraw his hand, having wished only to playfully return her gesture, he was startled when she grabbed his wrist. Leaning forward, pressing her bust to the table, she opened her jaw, extended her tongue, and wrapped her lips around his digit. He shivered, his hair stood on end, and his loins stirred as she sucked his digit clean.
“So - uh - what made you use a curtain?” he inquired, pulling his hand back and doing his damnedest to talk about something - anything that may distract him from the sinful thoughts clawing at his mind.
Reclining in her seat, she proudly showed off her improvised garment. “It’s prettier than a bed sheet and it’s just big enough to cover everything.”
The curtain was pretty large, long enough to cover her to her ankles, and its flower patterns were rather eye-catching - still, he was actually impressed with how well she’d managed to don the thing. “I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve made a toga for yourself.”
“And it won’t be my last,” she added, waving a fry over at him. “Back when I was living on the streets, homemade togas were one of the cheapest, comfiest options for wearing much of anything. If you wanted, I could show you how to make one yourself!”
As he went to reply, to tell her that there was no need, she shuffled over, got to her feet, and stood beside the booth. He knew what was coming, scrambling over to stop her, but it was too late. Before he could get up, she’d wheeled around and was fiddling at the cloth wrapped around her torso.
“The first step is to get a sheet that’s the right size,” she merrily remarked. “You fold it in half, throw it over your shoulder, then bring it around you - Shoot.”
Though he couldn’t see exactly what had happened, he quickly surmised that she’d suffered a slight wardrobe malfunction. Her hands shot to her chest, the material around her went slack, and the toga nearly crumpled off her frame. A stallion seated nearby started choking on his meal, a young mother covered her colt’s eyes, and an older griffon nearly spit out his drink, while she wrestled with the garment.
“You were supposed to pin it in place!” Anon groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“I couldn’t find the clothes pins!” she bleated, turning to face him.
As he was given a good look at her front, his fears were realized. The fabric over her rack was slack, only held in place by one of her arms, and she was only making the situation worse. Bolting upright, he abandoned his meal and went to help her. Making a scene anywhere would have been bad, but having her put on an impromptu burlesque show at his job would be catastrophic.
Batting him away, she grimaced. “I can do it myself!”
“No - no you obviously can’t,” he groused, reaching for the loose cloth.
She obstinately twisted her torso to one side, obstinately trying to fix the toga herself. “I can - Aaaahn!”
The lascivious noise brought the room to a standstill. Though he’d merely wanted to hold the fabric for her, allowing her to use both her hands without exposing herself, he found his fingers sinking into the supple flesh of her left breast. Hot, soft, and shockingly heavy, the mountainous bosom felt terrifyingly incredible in his grasp, leaving him frozen in place.
“A…Anon,” she whispered, her pleading eyes gazing down at his face, “please, n…not here.”
He could all but feel a blood vessel burst somewhere in his brain. Not only had he inadvertently copped a feel in front of a room of ponies eating lunch, but he’d done so with a mare that was, for all intents and purposes, his mom. Withdrawing his hand as if her bust was a serpent, having sensed something going rigid under his palm, he peeked over at the spectators.
Several ponies went to leave, mostly families with foals, but many remained in their seats to enjoy the display. Yeah - he was definitely going to catch hell for this from his boss. He uneasily swung his eyes up to her, saw that her face had gone beet red, and was hit with a pang of sympathy.
“You got it?” he murmured.
She nodded, having finally resecured the article. “I think so…”
He placed his lunch on the tray with her meal, picked up the food, and made for the nearest exit. “Let’s finish eating outside.”
Following along behind him, Leech excused herself to the diners. It was one thing to deal with her being a ditz on her own, but he couldn’t recall a time when he’d accidentally been a part of one of her awkward performances. Holding the door open, immeasurably thankful that nobody was sitting outside, he hung his head in shame.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Slowing as he closed the door, she came to a halt next to him. “Sorry for what?”
“For embarrassing you,” he clarified. “I was -”
“Honey, you didn’t embarrass me,” she interjected, squatting down while cupping his face in her hands.
He turned his eyes to her, confused by her claim. “Wait - you aren’t embarrassed?”
“It takes a lot more than that to embarrass me,” she tittered, winking at him.
“Well if you’re not embarrassed, what…” he trailed off as understanding dawned on him.
Her glowing features, the indecent noise she’d made, and her comment about ‘not here’ could have been misinterpreted as humiliation, but it was what her bra didn’t cover that was what ultimately gave her feelings away. There were two very prominent bumps on her chest, one on each behemoth bosom, that the thin fabric made painfully obvious. Though she hadn’t been mortified, he sure as hell was - not just because he’d groped her, but because of the revelation that she’d liked it.
She rose to her full height and loomed over him, her rack at his eye level, and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you alright, honey? You’re looking a bit flushed.”
His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths grew fast and ragged, and adrenaline flooded his system. He’d heard about fight or flight responses before, those rare times when the survivalistic parts of one’s mind kicked into high gear, but this was something all the more unnerving. Instead of fear, a raw, primal passion boiled up inside him.
“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should come home and rest,” she purred, holding his shoulders and drawing him in.
The thought of being pulled into her embrace was as appealing as it was horrifying. His higher functions screamed at him not to submit, that caving to his urges would break him, but his bestial desires pleaded with him to give in. Just a hug, a simple, innocent hug couldn’t hurt anything ~ right? Gliding his palms up her hips and to her waist, sensing her body heat through her toga, he snapped to his senses when a peculiar, dreadful ache struck him.
“I gotta get back to work!” he squawked, turning and dashing back inside.
He couldn’t afford to tell her goodbye - not because his lunch break was almost over, but because of growing tightness in his slacks. Rushing back to the counter, almost knocking his coworker away from the register, he struggled to get his raging libido under control. Leech would undoubtedly be a bit crestfallen by his abrupt departure, but he’d find some way to make it up for her - either intentionally or not…
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Big Smoke, is that you?
media.tenor.com/Ecc2BFq9cEcAAAAM/gta-big-smoke.gif
Everyone noticed big smoke but no one's talking about that hidden Goodburger reference.
Is that a Good Burger reference? That’s awesome!!
“Welcome to goodburger, home of the goodburger. May I take your order?”
I love that!
Huh… interesting
I still love that reference.