By Big Dave Hill
Sara and Dan got married right out of College. They'd been seeing each other for a couple years and were nearly inseparable. They each got a good job, put a down-payment on a house, and started a life together.
Just a month prior to leaving College (and entering Marriage), Dan suffered a back injury. It wasn't serious, but it would lay him up for a year. He was under strict orders not to perform anything too strenuous. Even on his honeymoon with Sara, Dan tried not to strain himself . . . too much.
Dan started putting on weight immediately. He wasn't as active, no longer playing with the school rugby team, and was eating a lot better (making a regular salary meant they could afford more, and better, food). Within eight months of moving into their new house, Dan had a very visible gut, which bulged out over his belt.
"I've got to get rid of this," he said, shirtless, holding his belly in his hands.
"Aw, but sweetie, it's so cute," Sara replied, and kissed him on the cheek.
She put her hand on his bare stomach and rubbed it gently in circles. "And it's so sexy," she added.
They kissed passionately, grasping at each other's bodies. Sara noticed that when Dan ran a hand down her back that it touched a slight love handle. She pulled off her shirt and grabbed hold of the little bit of flesh that bulged out over her jeans.
"See? I'm getting fat with you," she said with a smile.
"I guess we'll just become two, big fatties together," Dan said, and took her in his arms.
Over the following months, Winter came, and with it, Winter pounds. Increasingly trapped inside, both Dan and Sara grew. While they had both been slim in College, by their first anniversary Dan was tipping the scale at 220 pounds. Sara had packed on a lot of weight on her own, weighing 170 pounds by Christmas. It was during the lull between Christmas and New Years that Sara really started to discover her appetite.
Sara had a chocolate fudge sundae, big enough for three, ready to eat when Dan interrupted her.
"Are you really going to eat that?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yeah," she replied, a little confused, "what did you think I was going to do with it?"
"Well, it's a lot, that's all. And you've been complaining about your clothes getting tight again . . . "
Sara smiled a wicked smile. "I'll just have to get new clothes then," and she put a dripping spoonful into her mouth.
"Honey," Dan continued, hugging her from behind, pressing his belly into her back, "you don't want to get too fat, or you'll have a really hard time getting in shape this summer, if you want to join that women's soccer team."
"Too fat?" Sara turned to face her husband and hugged him back. "Isn't that kind of like the pot calling the kettle black?" She smiled sweetly at him, causing him to laugh.
"True, but this," he looked down toward his stomach, "happened by accident. I wasn't trying to eat myself to blimpdom!"
"But don't you like it?"
"Well, yeah," Dan admitted, "it's kind of a turn on when we're in bed together." He started to look concerned. "Honey, are you saying you like being fat better than being thin?"
She turned back to her sundae. "I like EATING!" She shoveled a heaping spoonful of ice cream into her mouth to illustrate the point.
Dan liked eating, too, but as Spring came, he gradually started to add his old, favorite physical activities back into his schedule. He joined an informal hockey team and started working out at a gym. Very gradually, almost invisibly, he began to lose weight.
"Look honey," Dan called to Sara one morning in June, "I can fit into my old jeans with the 36-inch waist!"
"Aw, sweetie, you look so cute with a little extra meat on you," Sara whined back at him, "but you're still so cute!"
They hugged, and Dan could feel the extra softness of his wife. While his weight had been falling, Sara's had been climbing. She'd graduated to 190 pounds a few weeks earlier, just about the same time Dan got down to that weight. Dan ran his hands along her waist, feeling the flesh that oozed over the top of her pants.
"I think you've gotten fatter, though, honey," he said.
"What a terrible thing to say," she said with a smile, "are you calling me fat?"
"Well, if the shoe fits - or rather, if the pants don't . . . "
Sara laughed. Even though Dan had been urging her to get back into soccer this summer, he didn't make a big deal of it when she finally said she wasn't interested.
"Hey, let's weigh you," he said, and took her by the hand.
"No, not today - " Sara protested. She wound up on the scale, anyway.
"203 pounds!" Dan exclaimed.
"Oh my," was all Sara could reply. There was some sort of psychological leap that occurred when she finally passed 200.
Dan slapped one of her buttocks, making the thick layer of fat shake. "So are you officially fat enough to be in the 'cow' category?" He smirked at her.
Sara feigned a frown, "That's not very nice!"
"Okay, I'll just call you 'my little piglet' then!"
"This piglet is hungry, too!"
Sara left the room to head toward the kitchen. Dan watched her behind sway and bounce as she walked away.
A week later, about to leave to meet friends at a local restaurant for lunch, Dan waited by the front door of their house.
"Are you coming, honey?" he called, looking expectantly up the stairs. She'd been getting ready for a long time and Dan was starting to worry.
"Coming!" came the strained reply.
Dan climbed the staircase to the bedroom to see what the problem was. As he entered the room he saw Sara hunched over, struggling to do up the zip on her jeans. Her face was red and she was out of breath when she looked up to see Dan standing there.
"Sorry," she wheezed, "I can't get it done-up."
"Lie down," Dan said.
Sara sat on the edge of the bed and lay down on the covers. She sucked up stomach in and tugged the sides of her jeans together as much as she could. Dan struggled a bit, but managed to raise the zipper. He had to help Sara stand, the jeans were so tight.
"You okay?" Dan asked.
Sara considered her body for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I think so."
She wore a loose T-shirt to cover up the bulge of her flabby stomach over her jeans and the large, spherical balloon that her belly had become. She could feel her ass sway from side to side as she walked, held taught in the skin-tight garment. She paused for a moment, wondering if the seams would hold, if she'd be able to sit down, or if she'd be able to eat anything in these clothes.
"What are you waiting for, jelly-belly?" Dan called.
Soon thereafter, Sara had to purchase new clothes. And as she continued to grow gradually fatter still, she had to buy yet more (and larger) clothes.
Meanwhile, Dan had been working out and was probably in the best shape of his life. One morning he woke Sara up before the sun had even risen.
"Hey, honey, look," he said, and beamed at her, "I can fit into my clothes from College!"
He stood in front of her, wearing the jeans he hadn't been able to fit into for years. He sauntered over to the scale, just out of curiosity, not having weighed himself in quite a long time. The dial stopped at 168 pounds.
"Wow," he whispered to himself. He checked himself out in the mirror. "I'm in good shape," he said to himself, and flexed his well-defined biceps for emphasis.
Sara approached him from behind and ran her hands down his muscular sides.
"You look so hot," she cooed.
He turned around and kissed her passionately, pulling her close against him.
"Let's weight you, sweetie," he suggested, and walked to the scale.
Sara considered her reflection for a moment. Her large belly and breasts were obviously carrying more weight than they ever had. Her night-shirt barely contained her. As she ran her hands over her bulging, soft hips, she also noticed the increased girth of her arms. "Sure, honey," she said unenthusiastically.
She stepped onto the scale. She tried to look over her breasts and gut to see the number, but it was a struggle.
"It says 254, honey," Dan said, recognizing her predicament.
"254," Sara repeated the number.
She stared blankly forward. She couldn't believe how high the number was. She enjoyed eating, of course, and she didn't feel badly about putting on weight, but somehow this size seemed gargantuan all of a sudden. Dan rubbed her back gently, sensing his wife's concern.
"It's alright, sweetie," he said, "it's not that much. You can lose that weight easy enough."
Sara looked up into his eyes. Her face wore a sad smile. Dan hugged her tightly. He loved his wife dearly, and hated to see her so depressed.
The next day Sara bought a sweat suit that fit, and decided to get down to some exercising. She went for a brisk walk, which raised her spirits. When she got home, Dan was waiting for her.
"Hi honey," she called to him and waved.
"What's going on?"
"I'm exercising," she said with a grin, and kissed him on the cheek. "And I need your help - you've got to motivate me."
"Sure, baby," he said. As she walked past him, Dan slapped one of her large, bouncing buttocks.
"Cheeky," she called over her shoulder, and giggled.
Back in their bedroom, Sara set up a large, full-length mirror to exercise in front of. First she stretched, and tried to touch her toes, with little success. Examining herself in the mirror, she grabbed two large handfuls of soft belly flab.
"This has got to go," she told herself.
She eased herself onto the floor and lied on her back. Sit-ups would get rid of that belly blubber, she thought to herself, and commenced her first one. She struggled to sit up, first with her hands behind her head, then by reaching forward toward her legs. Grunting and face turning red, she wasn't having much luck. Just then, Dan entered the bedroom.
"Come on," he encouraged her, "you can do it!"
She let out a gasp and lay flat on the floor. Her large belly rose and sank as she breathed heavily. She was too out of breath to respond.
Dan knelt down beside her and rubbed her belly with both hands.
"Looks like this is in the way," he said, shaking some of the fat. "You'll have to try harder than that, little Piglet!"
Sara was not amused. She was even less amused that evening, when, an hour after a healthy, low-fat dinner, her stomach started to growl. She and Dan were watching television. Sara tried to ignore her stomach, but eventually she just had to get some real food.
"I'll be right back," she said, and excused herself to the kitchen.
She pulled a gallon of ice cream out of the freezer, and started to shovel some into her mouth. Her stomach cried out in ecstasy! Minutes later, Dan entered the kitchen.
"Tsk, tsk," he said.
Sara looked sheepish, and started to put the ice cream back into the freezer.
"You were doing so well, honey," Dan cautioned, "don't ruin it now." He kissed her, and could taste chocolate. "If you don't want to be a fat cow, you can't eat like one, you know."
Dan headed to bed ahead of Sara, who stayed behind to tidy the kitchen. When her husband was gone, she quickly pulled the ice cream out and stuffed five more spoonfuls into her mouth before she went to bed.
Newly concerned with her size, Sara couldn't pass a mirror without checking how she looked. She also noticed how she had started to waddle a little, and how climbing stairs caused her to sweat. Her light exercise regime continued, minus the hard stuff, like sit-ups, but she kept on snacking. Sara tried to eat smaller, lighter meals, but they left her ravenous. She often, secretly, would find something to fill her up afterward.
Dan thought she was doing very well, unaware of her secret snacking. Sara didn't tell him that the scale now read 261 pounds. Dan was supportive, and their love life was as good as ever. He took to kidding Sara about her weight, however, and calling her names. Nothing too mean, she thought, but she felt a little embarrassed when he called her "fatty," or "chubby." She didn't mind "piglet," which she thought was cute, but she hated "porky."
"Honey," Dan called one evening, "I've got some news. You're gonna like it and hate it."
"What is it?"
"I've got a job offer, and it pays double what I'm making right now."
Sara's face lit up with a smile, but Dan's brow furrowed.
"That's great," Sara exclaimed, and hugged him. "But what's the problem?"
Dan rested his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "I'll have to be away for a couple months. The training involves a lot of travel, two solid months' worth. I won't be able to see you at all in that time."
Sara's smile dissolved. "Oh," she said.
Talking about it more over the coming weeks, Sara finally convinced Dan that it would be alright - a couple of months wasn't much, really, and it would be terrific experience for him.
Then, a week before Dan left, Sara lost her job.
"Don't worry, sweetie, you can take your time to find a job you will really like - we don't need money so bad now, with my new job," Dan said.
Sara bid her husband farewell, and then went home to her empty house. It would be a couple of days before Dan would be able to call her, so, being unemployed, she had some time to fill. She filled it by filling herself, snacking in front of the television set.
The first week Dan was away was very hard for Sara, and she grew lonely. They talked as much as they could at night on the phone, but Sara missed her husband so much it really surprised her. Food was her solace.
Before Dan's first week away was up, Sara went for her regular, annual physical. Her doctor was quite shocked.
"My goodness, Sara," she exclaimed, "you've put on some weight!"
"Yes, I know, Dr. Simpson," she admitted sheepishly.
"Please, step on the scale."
The doctor calculated Sara's weight at 265 pounds. Sara sat down on the examination table once the weighing was done. Naked, and alone in the small examination room with her slim doctor, she felt huge. Her thighs spread out wide over the cold table, and her belly rested heavily on her lap, trying to sink in between her fat legs. The doctor made some notes, and did not comment on the scale reading at all.
"We could take a body-fat count, but I don't really think it's necessary," the doctor explained.
Sara nodded. They both knew it was high.
The doctor poked and prodded Sara some more, and then allowed her to get dressed.
"You know, you should get more exercise," the doctor explained, while Sara struggled to pull her jeans up over her thighs.
"Yes ma'am, I know." Sara turned away to hide the fact that she couldn't zip up her pants once the button was done-up. She pulled her long, loose shirt over to hide it. It wasn't long enough.
"Um," the doctor began uncomfortably, "your fly . . . "
Sara felt for it (she couldn't see over her gut), and turned red. "Oh, heh, that. I know . . . I can't get it up."
Feeling fatter than ever (and, in fact, she was), Sara hurried home in embarrassment. She grabbed a family-size bucket of fried chicken on the way, just to keep her company.
The day before Dan returned, he called Sara.
"Honey, I can't wait to curl up in bed with you again," he gushed.
"Me neither, I've missed you so much, for so-o-o long!"
"I have to let you know, sweetie," Dan confessed, "I've put on a little weight. I can't get into my pants with the 29" waist anymore. I'm up to a 30."
"Oh, don't worry, I've put on a little weight, too."
When Sara stood on her scale that night, it read 291 pounds. She needed a mirror to read it, unable to read the numbers. She wasn't entirely surprised. Her exercise program had dwindled to short walks around the block, which she waddled through, leaving her out of breath. Worse, she still ate like a pig. When she tried to eat well, she was hungry. When she ate to satiate her hunger, it made her feel guilty. When she felt guilty she ate more.
She ran her hands over her large, flabby belly. Like a blimp, she thought. Her belly size was matched proportionately by her breasts, butt and legs. She worried what Dan would think when he returned. She was almost 300 pounds, for gosh sakes!
Her fears were demolished when Dan returned, and their passion was as strong as ever. Dan continued to tease Sara about her size, but he never really seemed to mind. He was certainly just as attracted to her, and he always offered her seconds of dessert. Sara, as time passed, came to accept herself, and enjoyed being the beautiful, fat lady she had become. Then one day, she secretly started to fatten her husband . . .