Cravings

The moment Lois passed the threshold, her stomach growled. She looked down at her still-flat tummy, as if to make sure it was there. A gnawing emptiness hit her, and a sort of jittery feeling in her limbs like when her blood pressure was low.

Food. The reporter's thought was immediate and primal. Need food.

Lois passed through the bedroom, barely sparing the idol with its swollen belly on her bed a glance as she made a bee-line to the kitchen. Mind already focused on what she had in the fridge. Grocery shopping was usually something she had little time for, depending far too much on deliveries...

As she cracked open the icebox, Lois' sudden cravings solidified. It wasn't just that she needed to eat, her body wanted specific things. She grabbed a jar of pickles, a pint of emergency ice cream from the freezer, yogurt, a sleeve of saltine crackers, ketchup, potato chips... Her mouth was already salivating at the though of sweet, sour, salty flavors. The reporter knew that when your body acted like that, it meant you had some sort of deficiency. Best to listen to it.

Laying the feast out on the kitchen table, Lois scarfed. It wasn't even a meal, she chided herself, shaking and half ravenous as she covered a pickle with yogurt and shoved it into her gullet, chewing happily, willing the food down her esophagus while reaching for the next bite. It was the kind of unbridled gluttony associated with teenagers during growth spurts and...

...pregnant women.

Lois paused, her mouth full of ice cream and ketchup. She could feel the ice cream run down her throat, and slowly, deliberately, chewed and swallowed, feeling the chill sweet and crunchy bits slide down to settle in her stomach.

"Ridiculous," her voice out loud was calm. "It can't be. Takes weeks before those kind of cravings kick in. And...and I'm not...I'm not pregnant. I can't be. Totally impossible."

The reporter stared down at her midriff. Despite the aborted pig-out session, it was still taut and toned. She could even see the dark curly pubes above her pussy between her legs. Still staring, Lois absently reached for another pickle.

Which was when a very different sort of craving kicked in...