The sun beat down on Punchy, her heavy breasts slippin' and slidin' around in her slightly undersized sports bra. She wondered if truly fit people felt nothing wiggling or bouncing around on their body as they jogged, and whether the pace at which she jogged was "normal" or humiliatingly slow.
The extreme heat of the sun was causing Punchy to sweat terribly. Sweat beads slithered down her shoulders, chest, and nose. Punchy looked straight into the sun and told it, "You're too much today."
Curious, Punchy tasted the sweat bead sliding right below her nose, above her mouth. It wasn't salty, as she had expected, but sweet.
Punchy looked up at the sun again, this time with one eye closed. The perfect bright circle had transformed into a short stack of buttermilk pancakes, dripping in old-fashioned maple syrup.
"Nope, can't be," thought Punchy.
She kept on jogging despite a burning desire to collapse onto any of the grassy yards she passed. If only Punchy could carry Katie around with her, in her shorts pocket, or perhaps in a fanny pack--that would be more comfortable for Katie. Katie could continue to provide Punchy with pep and discipline, both of which Punchy needed but had troubling providing herself.
Ten more minutes and Punchy's workout would be complete. She treated herself to another face-lick. This time her sweat tasted exactly like maple syrup. Her food-inspired daydreaming beckoned her to gaze up at the sun again.
Punchy was sure of it this time. The sun had indeed been replaced by a plate of giant pancakes.
Punchy extended her tongue almost automatically. The pancakes seemed so close, yet they were so completely out-of-reach.
At that moment, there was nothing Punchy wanted more than to reach out and grab those glistening, golden flapjacks, and of course...eat them.
So she did.