I am athletic, popular, good looking, and I am not fat. But the problem is I am not happy. I live in a society that denounces everything “big.” My family wants me to meet a nice skinny girl who I can marry and have beautiful skinny kids with. My friends see a girl with a few extra pounds on her and they find it necessary to make jokes about her. And all this time I simply bite my tongue and agree. Well, to be honest, I'm sick of it!
My name is Tim. I am eighteen years old. I have an athletic build and a good personality. Needless to say I've never had trouble landing that perfect ten. Well, everyone else's perfect ten. My whole life I have lived a lie. I date girls who meet other people's standards. And that's only half the story. Not only do I fantasize about being with a fat girl I fantasize about being a fat guy. I look at gay websites to see fat men, not because I'm gay, but because I want to look like the men on my screen. But I hold back my true feelings because I am afraid of what the people around me might think. Well, today that changes. Consider this my coming out party.
The club is crowded …not much room to move……I'm growing tired of the atmosphere and begin to make my exit…but wait…there, across the room I see what I have been searching for the entire night. It's the girl…..No let me rephrase that…It's THE girl. Beautiful brown hair, cute slender face: she is by my estimates about 5 7” 190 lbs. She is wearing a loose-fitting silk shirt that V's out below her breasts to show her stomach. And what a stomach it is. Soft and plump that ever so gently sags over her tight fitting black skirt, which her massive rear end literally hangs out of. I decide to make my approach, putting all naysayer aside.
“Hey, I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. My name is Tim.” It is hard to speak over the pounding of my heart. She is even more beautiful up close. She tells me her name, but I find myself too fixated on her soft tummy to hear her. The way it moved when she talked had my mind moving 1000 miles per hour.
“I'm sorry what did you say your name was? It s so loud in here I can't even hear myself think.”
“It's Megan. You wouldn't want to go somewhere quiet to talk, would you?”
“Actually, I would love to!” What I really wanted to say was, “Yeah, that would be great, lets have sex.” But I figured my first response was more cordial.
We left the club and went back to her apartment. When we got there, we both had a seat on her couch and began to have a conversation. When she sat down and her belly rolled up over her thick thighs, I thought I was going to bust right there.
Megan: “I can't help but notice you haven't taken your eyes off my stomach the entire night. I know I'm fat and I feel like your mocking me inside because of it.”
Me: “No….no, not at all. This may sound weird, but I kind of have a thing for bigger girls.”
Megan: “You, look at yourself. You were the best looking guy at that club tonight, and you have a thing for fat girls?”
Me: “I know it sounds stupid, but I get really turned on by girls with 'cushion.' When I saw you in that club tonight with your tummy hanging out and your butt cheeks sagging below you skirt, I was stupefied.”
This is where the story gets good.
Megan: “Well, to be honest, I normally only date bigger guys. I dunno, it makes me feel more secure.”
Me: “Well, I would love to be that guy for you.”
Ok, I did it I found a fat girl who wants to make me into a fat guy. Fantasy fulfilled.
Needless to say we began dating and I began gaining. I didn't want to get huge but just enough to get a nice overhanging belly and a small pair of breasts. Well, she had a different plan and of course she got her way. By the end of the year, I had gained 98 lbs. I gained weight differently than I thought I would. I didn't just have a big gut, but instead I have these massive love handles that stick out over my waist. And the small breasts turned into boobs bigger than any girls I had ever been with. Below those, I sort of narrow off until you get to my stomach and love handles. My butt got a lot bigger than I thought it would, also.
Finally, I was living life the way I wanted to live. I walk around Megan's apartment with a wife beater on that is too small for my body. My bell and love handles sag out of the bottom, and the crease that my belly button makes is amazing.
I know this is a strange way to end, but I want to save the sexual parts for another story. The parts where I describe how Megan pulls my shirt off and exposes my soft flesh. The parts where my stomach touches hers. The parts where I massage her deep mounds of fat with hands …….so until then.
To Be Continued……..as long as the feedback is good.