Puttin It On (2)

"Oh man," I muttered as I looked down at the chips covered in hot cheese.
"Scared?" He asked.
"No!" I replied defiantly. I grabbed a chip, pulled it from the rest and dug in. As I ate he (now we call him david as a fake name) rubbed my stomach. I managed to eat the salty chips and string cheese. "Beer!" I shouted, hoping I didn't look nearly as bloated as I felt. A waitress hurriedly brought one over. "Thanks," I said, already gulping it down.
"Done already?" David asked.
"Yes!" I cried. I couldn't eat another!
"If you don't eat another basket you don't get a kiiiiiiss," he teased. I grinned.
"Fine. You win." I began to eat the next basket while david rubbed my somehow-still-flat stomach and kissed my neck. The chips went down.
"I love that bloat!" David cried, kissing my stomach. I groaned softly.
"Thanks, b****ard."
"Shut up," he murmured.
"I'll have to run a mile to get the crap you put in me out."
"Here's my number." He handed me a piece of paper with 10 digits on it then left. I saved his number and checked my messages. My bff had texted me: goin home w sum1 ttyl.