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Airport Fantasy
by Doug

Part I

It was about fifteen minutes until boarding time. I had come in on an earlier flight, and was waiting for the connecting flight back to New York. It had been a fun visit to California, where most of my family still lives, though they can't hide the fact that they wonder why I like it so much in the big apple. I was, as usual, strategically positioned to watch the flow of airport foot traffic, in case anything interesting should come down the pike. But nothing could have prepared me for what came down next.

I was dumbstruck. In an instant, my heart rate had doubled. In another instant, I was pumping so much adrenaline that I couldn't even be sure anymore whether or not my anxiety was painfully obvious or just a curious anomaly. Scared, I dug my nose back behind my newspaper. It was the sports section. But I knew I didn't have much time before I might lose sight of the apparition forever. I casually (or so I thought) folded up my newspaper and took a big sigh, looking around as if checking to see if a friend had returned from the bathroom. She was still there.

How could she have gone far? A beautiful blond-haired brown-eyed woman, with a full chest that led the way about 6 inches in front of her. Her other features were, to me, phenomenally more impressive. She had an average waistline, thinnish arms, and no double-chin. But her lower body was massive. Wide hips that flared out at almost 90 degree angle from her waist, on either side. She was practically resting her arms on top of them. As she approached, I could also see a small pot belly. But I became most worried when I moaned out loud as she passed and I got a view from behind. And what a behind it was! Each spherical cheek seemed to have this same amazing ninety degree flaring quality described by the hips. They were so big, I had to look away for a moment. It didn't help that the thin off-white sun dress she wore had a waist fitting seam that pulled the material up around her waist and made it flare off in all directions southward. So, obviously, because of the hanging quality of her dress, I didn't get to see much else. One other thing that couldn't escape my attention was how each cheek's upper rim had a distinct jiggle to it with each step she took that made the material wiggle around on top of it.

I thought, well, she's going too slow for me to be able to follow discreetly, and besides this is a small airport. So I just hung out and prepared to watch her exit my reality for good. But things just kept getting better! She made a sharp turn and got in line at the counter at the same gate I was leaving from! From where I was sitting now, I could get a real sense of the exaggerations of her profile. I must have blown my cover because right then she saw me staring at her. I dashed my eyes away to pretend she was just one of a myriad of things that my bored-and- waiting-for-the-plane eyes happened to be passing over. But maybe she had noticed more than that. Because when I looked at her again, she was still staring back at me, and this time with a wry smile. A whole new tank of adrenaline seemed to be released into my bloodstream all over again. I smiled back, timidly, not sure what to do. The line she was in was quite long. I could go to the bathroom... or move to another seat. But that would be to obvious. So I stayed there, swallowed hard, and began to have a facial conversation. I gave her a new, more composed smile, and raised my eyebrows. She narrowed her eyes, then got a big smile and rocked her big hips back and forth, causing her rear to jiggle some more and her so-nearly-translucent sun dress to break out in a sea of motion.

When she got to the front, she spoke to the checker and pointed at me while saying something. I was sure I was done for. The airport police were coming. I don't know. She thanked the attendant and walked over to me. Her chest, though well secured into place, displayed a dangerous amount of cleavage. And from this direction, I could see the sway of her tummy and jiggle of her hips as she approached. She sat down right next to me.

I couldn't stand it any longer. "What did you say to the attendant?", managed to get out. My voice cracked. I could have died of embarrassment right there. As in the actual cause of death would have been listed, "death by embarrassment while sitting next to a lethally beautiful woman."

"I asked for a seat next to yours." she said, with some kind of European accent that I couldn't place, but it was mesmerizing all the same. Mesmer himself would have been impressed. She waited for my reaction, but I was still in shell shock. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Um, J-Jared. And you are?"

"I am Marian. I hope you don't mind, but I thought we could talk, you know." She was taking up two consecutive seats, one for each amazing cheek. It was a good thing, too because if she had been any closer, she would have been bulging up against me and that wasn't something I was ready to deal with. Now that she was sitting down, her breasts were pushed even further up and away. It was like she had a portable fold-out table of cleavage that showed up whenever she sat down. Thatís how big they were. It was difficult not to stare.

"Sure, I'd love to." The conversation ensued, and things began to get better for me. Marian was a 28 year old research assistant, and I an architect, though seven years her senior. Both New York singles, both from California, though she was much bolder than I. It was like a gift from the Gods. Our conversation kept going and going... we boarded the plane, and this time she really did squish up against me. She was glad to be seated next so someone who wouldn't complain. However, in order to fit, she had to put up the armrest between us and request a seatbelt extender. Oh, yes.

By the time we arrived in New York, there was no doubt in our minds that we had something going. We exchanged both phone numbers and addresses, and said "Please call. Any time." Actually, I had only been home about an hour and a half when the phone rang.

"Can I come over yet?" Her voice was plaintive on the phone, but with a hint of desperation. Even on the phone she sounded sexy.

"I'll be waiting!" Boy was I ever excited. Of course, the apartment was a mess, so it took a decent Tasmanian devil impersonation to clean up with the time I had. I lit a fire, put on some Burt Bacharach (never fails), and set some ice cream on the shelf.

When she arrived, she was wearing a black satiny clingy thing that hatched whole new breeds of butterflies inside me. Every subtle curve was accentuated in a soft, dull reflection of the folds and contours of the dress. I could see that her legs were larger than I had imagined. She wore minimal makeup and a soft, soothing fragrance. I let her in, silently noticing that each hip was only about two inches away from the door frame.

"Ick. Who's this? Burt Bacharach?"

Oops. Strike one. "You don't like him? I'll take it off."

"Just show me where the bedroom is, honey. I need you NOW." This was good, because I didn't think I could stand it much more either. It's too bad I had to walk in front of her to show her the way. When we arrived at the bedroom, she grabbed my head and kissed me violently. As she was slightly shorter than me (5'6" to my 5'9"), this pushed her amazingly soft breasts into my chest. My hands first hugged her at the waist (which was still surprisingly small, even to hug). Then as I first felt my way out to the ends of her hips, and across her enormous rear, I found I couldn't even reach everything. She laughed, and began to stealthily pull my clothes off. Before I knew it, I was nude and she was still in that form-fitting dress. She then turned around, and I almost fainted from the view.

"Care to help me get this off?" It was obvious that, though the dress had a zipper up the back, it was not going to move down any further on this body. So I unzipped it (to which she replied with a pleasurable sigh), and began to pull it up from the ankles. Her feet were plump and overflowing a little in her flats. Her calves were also thick and round. But her thighs were much larger than I expected, each having nearly the width of the cheek above it. When I got the dress up to her hips, I got stuck. It didn't seem to go up anymore. I wondered how she even got it on in the first place. I tugged, but it eventually took her help to get it over just one hip and then the other. Beneath the dress, she wore a very large bra to contain her massive breasts. I could see it digging into her back and shoulders trying to contain them. She also was wearing the biggest pair of panties I had ever seen. Silky and pink, they managed to make their way over ever inch of acreage in the back, around the fullness of each hip, and form a nice elastic waist. Words seemed unnecessary now. I undid each bra clasp, producing louder and louder "mmmm"'s from Marian, until I reached the last one, which I had some trouble with. Finally I was able to undo it, and the bra lurched forward, still pinned on by the shoulder straps. Pulling them off, the breasts finally were able to make amends with gravity and they fell big and round against her chest. They were very soft and quite heavy and somewhere between pendulous and spherical.

I began to remove her panties but found I had to do one hip at a time. Her rear was simply huge, and every bit as beautiful as I had hoped. Just the motion I was making with the panties made them jiggle a little bit. I was so excited I could barely stand it.

We made love for what seemed like hours. Amidst her wailings of pleasure, I could swear I heard her say things like "... make me FATTER!" and "...oh, I'm getting so BIG..." I passed it off as my overactive imagination...

Part II

When I awoke, Marian was in the kitchen. I came out in my robe, hair askew and probably needing a wash. I thought she might have been cooking breakfast, but she was eating--eating everything in sight. I saw the empty box of eggos waffles. I hadn't even opened those yet. There was also an empty egg carton. I think there were at least six of those, too. I arrived in the middle of a stack of pancakes and a heap of bacon. Maybe she noticed me, but if she did, she didn't say anything. She was wearing only the full slip she had on under her dress the night before, but I didn't remember it being quite that tight. Her hips draped off either side of the chair, and her enormous rear elevated her in her seat so that she could barely fit her legs under the table. Forkful after forkful went into her mouth, and her braless chest bounced along the way. I tried to get her attention, but she just screened me out. So eventually, I had to get dressed and go to work, and leave her there, gorging.

When I got home, she was passed out in front of the television, next to a couple empty bags of microwave popcorn and an empty pizza box. I gently awoke her and turned off the TV. She awoke with a lazy smile and said, "I hope you like fat women. I'm going to be the fattest woman you've ever seen. Yesterday, I weighed 280 pounds. Now I weigh 284!"

I was dumbstruck. "You don't have to do this for me! I like you just the way you are!"

"This is for me, Jared. This is what I have always wanted to be. Now that I know I have a man who will love me when I am huge, I want to be huge. This is my secret fantasy from as long as I can remember. You are not going to make me give it up."

"Well there are limits to this kind of thing, you know. Just how big did you want to get?" I couldn't help myself from imagining the possibilities of someone who had gained four pounds in just 24 hours, and with this kind of figure!

"I want to weigh more than 600 pounds. Did you notice where I gain most of my weight? Of course you have. I'm going to have the biggest rear end this planet has ever seen!" She giggled to herself.

She was going to do this with or without me, it now seemed. So I declared that it was measurement time. She hopped on the bathroom scale, and sure enough, the number now climbed to 285. She squealed with glee. I got out my tape measure and took her chest measurement at 36, and her bust measurement at 58. Moving down to the incredibly slim waist, I found a whole 36 inches. And now for the big one. I needed her to hold the tape in two different places, because I couldn't hold it all myself. Yep, no doubt, 76 inch hips.

It didn't take long before these numbers were ancient history. Marian ate with a determination I had never seen before. One week later, she broke the 300 pound mark and kept on going. It was true; her hips and behind just kept getting larger and larger while the rest of her stayed the same size.

In another month, she reached 400 pounds. She decided it was much easier for her to live with me, so she moved in. We set up a spare bedroom with a reinforced king size bed, a restaurant sized refrigerator, an industrial scale, and entertainment. Marian was at this time probably the largest woman I had ever known. Her breasts had not increased in size, and her waist had only expanded to 46 inches. However, her lower body had reached massive proportions. She now had a hip measurement of 96 inches, and was over three feet wide. She had no trouble walking in open spaces, but she was forced to sidestep through hallways. The flaring of her hips and rear was so exaggerated that she could balance glasses and food on them. Her thighs had each reached a circumference of 45 inches, making it impossible for her to wear anything except dresses. She still held her job at the research lab, but she had arranged it so she could mostly work from home, on the computer.

Then things took another turn. In two weeks, Marian was gaining faster than ever. Her seamstress could no longer keep up with the rate she needed new dresses. She passed the 500 pound mark and just kept going. She was having more and more difficulty getting around the house, and her distinctive waddle was turning into more of a slow mosey. She was so wide now that she couldn't sit in three conventional chairs because her behind stuck out so far that there wasn't enough room. She was also beginning to outgrow the loveseat in the living room and would only take the couch. I was becoming worried, and I decided I wanted her to stop. But she didn't listen, and ate more than ever.

Part III

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, disaster struck. I arrived home one day to find police and ambulances surrounding the entrance to my apartment. As I approached, an officer informed me that Marian had become literally wedged in the doorway to the kitchen, and had been lucky to be in reach of the phone to call for help. They apologized for having to break down my front door, but I was just worried about Marian, and I didn't think to be mad. When I got into the apartment, she was still there, wedged in the doorframe. She had been attempting to get through it sideways (the only real possibility for doors, anymore), and had gotten one hip/thigh/cheek through, and part of her belly, and now was just plain stuck. Fortunately for her dignity she was wearing a new dress, but with all the pressure involved, it didn't relieve the friction enough to pass back the way she came. She just smiled at me and asked if I could pass her that donut that had been tantalizingly out of reach for the past hour and a half. I wanted to lecture her right there, but I spared her the embarrassment.

After she had been cut loose (goodbye, door frame), she went back to her bedroom, and began munching again. I told her how worried I was, but she asked me to prove she was unhealthy, and I couldn't. She could still get around the house, she was doing well at her job (in fact, her reports were so good she had gotten a promotion), and she could still drive, but just barely. Her doctor made regular visits and had said she was unusually healthy for her size. But at 683 pounds, however, she still wasn't satisfied.

The next day, I arrived home to an even bigger surprise. The media had come-- newspapers, television reporters, the works. Marian had publicly announced that she was happy the size she was, and wanted to become the fattest person in history. Within a week, my life had turned into a circus. Headlines splashed all across the country reading "Fat Woman Wants to Gain More (and doesn't apologize for her size)", or worse, "Super Fatty Keeps Growing!" on the tabloids. The first perk I noticed was that I didn't have to pay grocery bills anymore. Donations were sent in from all over the country to help Marian keep up a steady intake of food. Marian was in an eating heaven and couldn't be stopped.

I had to hire help around the house just to keep things in order. Julie soon proved to be a life saver. She was a 250 pound busybody who soon became Marian's biggest fan. She kept up a steady supply of food, was careful to balance nutrition with all the fattening goodies, and took care of bathroom needs. However, all the indulgence soon began to rub off on her, and she was nearing 300 pounds after a few months.

Marian was eating so much that she hardly slept, and the reporters were beating down our door most of the time. Also there were the construction workers, remodeling the entire house to accommodate her even in her last days of mobility, which I would have thought were approaching fast. But Marian made certain to exercise and move around as much as she could every day.

Two hundred pounds later, Marian was a breathtaking sight. Nearly 900 pounds of female flesh covered the king size bed. Her thighs and rear had lives of their own. Watching her stand was an experience I tried never to miss. She would do kind of a twisting motion with her torso, over and over, and each time her body would slowly rotate toward the side of the bed, sending waves over her body. Once she was sitting on the side, she would lean over into her thighs and grab the wall support, and then with a groan, pull herself to her feet. At this point, I had to hold on to something to keep from fainting. The world's biggest butt was now in view. It was truly huge. Marian was almost six feet wide, and each beautiful cheek was still almost spherical, save for the expansive shelf above and the upward-rounded pressure into the mammoth thigh below.

Marian got dressed (with some help), and began to slowly sidestep her way out of the bedroom and into the living room. Her first stop was at the scale where she weighed, daily. It was a reinforced livestock scale, but it was fairly accurate, although it was becoming tight quarters as well. A little fiddling with the hanging weights put her at around 890 pounds. Next was measuring-- quite a feat, but not impossible. Her bust had not been changing much, and had been at 64 inches for quite a while, so we didn't bother with it. Her waist was now growing, steadily, though, so we had to check it. Sure enough, 82 inches. Then came the tough part. Marian could no longer reach the sides of her hips, unless she was sitting down and leaning far to one side. So she just held the first tape measure as far down her belly as she could reach. I handed it to Julie, who brought it around her right side. It was only a 100 inch measuring tape, so she marked the spot where it reached (somewhere in the expanse of her right butt-cheek), and threaded it again around to me. It only came to about four inches away from where we had started. Two-hundred and four inch hips!

Marian's last recorded weight was somewhere around 1,300 pounds, however, she kept gaining for almost two years after, reaching a (very estimated) weight of 1,800 pounds. Immense, immobile, and content, she measured over 12 feet in width, and was so large that at night, I just curled up and slept on one of her thighs. She told me she had reached her goal, and wouldn't mind staying this size as long as it was okay with me.

Julie, however, was now more than 400 pounds, and had ideas of her own...