Plenty for Peggy


When I met her, Peggy was a dinky little thing. She was 5'2" with long brown hair and weight about 125 lbs. She was pretty, though not a real looker. In fact, there was nothing about her that was particularly remarkable - nothing definable that set her apart from lots of other girls I knew. But we went out and enjoyed each other's company. She was warm and very enthusiastic, but there always seemed to be something she was on the verge of asking me that she never managed to say. Then we drifted apart and I didn't see her for almost two years.

Then one day, I was at the store buying groceries when I heard my name. I turned around and there she was - only now she was rail thin. I don't think she could have weighed 95 lbs. I greeted her warmly and we left the market together arm in arm. She seemed very happy to see me and I was happy to see her again, despite the fact that she looked like a stick figure. We went to a coffee place nearby. We talked for about an hour, and again, I got the impression that she was wanting to say something to me that she didn't know how to say. When she hugged me in parting, I could feel all her ribs and the bones in her back - it was like hugging a skeleton. We made a date for Saturday night and went our separate ways.

On Saturday night, I picked her up from her apartment around 7. The place looked spotless and smelled like no one had ever lived there. While she was in her bedroom collecting things, I went into her tiny kitchenette and found that the refrigerator was almost completely empty: a box of baking soda, some carrots and a lime were all that it contained. She came out in a very tight, quite revealing outfit. Trouble was, I wasn't particularly interested in what it revealed. She looked unhealthy. Her skin lacked any life to it and every movement she made seemed to require a little more effort that it should.

"You like?" she asked, turning around for me.

"You certainly have gotten thin!" I replied with as much warmth and politeness as I could muster.

This seemed to satisfy her and we left the apartment together arm in arm. I took her to my favorite Indian buffet. She went to the buffet and returned with a plate containing a couple of pieces of lettuce and a small piece of melon. As we ate, we talked. I returned to the buffet for another place of rice and curries and she remained at the table. When I returned, I said,

"I thought you liked curry. I am sorry if I brought you to a restaurant you don't like. Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"Oh, no, I love curry and it smells wonderful," she replied wistfully, "but it's so fattening. I've got to keep to the new me," she concluded with conviction.

"Keep up this kind of starvation diet, and there soon won't by any new you at all," I said.

"I thought you liked the new me," she said, pouting ever so slightly.

"My dear," I started, "what a girl does about her own body is her own business and I was trying to be polite. But if you want me to be completely honest, I thought you looked a lot better when we first met. In fact," I concluded, with an air of resignation, knowing I was probably burning my boats, "if you wanted to look good to me, you would gain back all the weight you've lost and a lot more besides."

"Do you mean that?" she asked shyly. I nodded. "You'd really think I was more attractive if I was fat?" she continued with an air of disbelief.

"The fatter the better," I said, digging into my curry and taking a big bite.

"Excuse me," she said and left the table.

I felt pretty bad. I didn't mean to be rude. I thought she'd left the restaurant, but I wasn't going to let her ruin a perfectly good meal, so I kept eating. I didn't have to wait long, as it turned out. She came back to the table with a fairly good sized plate of curry about five minutes later.

"I'm starved," she said with feeling and started to eat.

After a little interval, when she started to slow down, I asked, "So what's with the diet?"

"Well, I'm a little embarrassed to say," she began.

"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to," I suggested.

"Oh, but I do want to tell you," she replied, "it's just hard. When we were going out, I really liked you and I wanted to get to know you better and spend more time with you, but I always got the feeling that there was something about me, about my appearance, that you didn't find exactly attractive. So, I went on some diets and found a way to get really skinny for you. It was hard, but I was determined not to let my weight come between us." She laughed. "Boy, it never occurred to me that it was my lack of weight that was the problem!"

"It must have been hard on you," I suggested. "You really look, well, unhealthy - really starved and not just thin."

"Well," she began around a mouthful of food, which she stopped to chew and then, after a drink of water, continued "I did starve - I was pretty fanatical about the losing weight thing. What this wants," she continued, pointing to her plate with her fork, "is a good beer."

"Sure thing," I said, and get a waiter's attention. "We'd like two beers, the large ones." The waiter returned moments later with 2 quart bottles of beer and two glasses.

She pushed her plate away from her, took a pull at her beer and said, "I'm stuffed, but it's so good, I want more."

"No hurry," I said. "After not eating for so long, I imagine your stomach has gotten to be pretty small."

"Could you get me some dessert please?" she asked.

"Certainly," I said. I returned a little later with a small bowl of rice pudding and several dumplings in syrup. Her plate she'd pushed away from her was now empty.

"Ooooh, I love those!" she exclaimed, and started on the dumplings.

We talked while she ate the dessert very slowly and we finished our beers. By the time we left the restaurant, she'd had what most people would consider a normal meal. She felt like she could barely walk and leaned heavily on my arm. When I got her home, I helped her into the bedroom to lie down. As she lay there, she raised her blouse to expose her flat stomach and took my hand to feel it. "Tight as a drum, lover. How does that made you feel?" I took her hand in mine and put it against the tight fabric of my slacks so she could feel my rock hard erection and leaned over to kiss her.

"I'd kill for a really good milk shake," she whispered to me when our lips parted.

"Rest yourself, dear," I replied softly, caressing her hair, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

I knew that there was nothing in her pitiful little kitchen to make a milk shake from, so I went to the store. While I was there I picked up a selection of staples like eggs, flour, sugar, potatoes, and some other things like doughnuts, a few pastries, and of course the makings for my special milk shakes.

She was still asleep when I got back, so I busied myself with putting the groceries away and making her milk shake. To make it, I took a quart of extra heavy whipping cream and added a cup of sugar to it in the blender. Then I added a quarter cup of cocoa and a cup of corn syrup and just a touch of almond extract. I then added a quart of extra rich vanilla ice cream, mixed it all up and sprinkled grated milk chocolate on top. I poured this into three glasses and put them to chill in the freezer.

When I returned to the bedroom, my presence disturbed her and she woke with a little start. I knelt by the bed and kissed her and she looked deeply into my eyes, asking me earnestly: "Are you sure you meant it - about me being too thin?"

"Yes, my dear, nothing would make me happier than for you to gain as much weight as possible as fast as you could."

"You really mean that?" she ask again. "You wouldn't be ashamed to be seen out with me?"

"I would be proud of your looks and proud to be with such a beautiful woman," I replied.

"Where's my milk shake?" she asked with mock seriousness. I returned quickly with a milk shake, 2 maple bars, a Danish with extra frosting, and a bag of potato chips.

She drank a third of the milk shake at once and exclaimed, "Wow! that is the best!" She finished the rest of the milk shake and a maple bar before handing me the empty glass and asking, "can I have some more, please?"

"My love, you can always have more," I said happily.

I came back with another milk shake for her and found she'd eaten the other male bar and had started in on the potato chips. "Do we have any dip?" she asked, taking the milk shake from me.

I returned to the kitchen and made some dip from cream cheese, sour cream, olive oil and onion soup. While I was mixing the dip, she came up behind me and hugged me. She felt better already... still very thin, but I could feel her tiny belly pressing against me now, not just ribs.

We spent every non-working moment together from then on and I moved in with her two days later, since her place was better and cheaper than mine, which I sublet . I was always careful never to give her too much to eat at once and she always asked for more. She gained 15 pounds in the first week, 20 pounds in the second and 25 pound each for the next three weeks. Every morning we would weigh her and I would admire her growing body and reassure her that she was becoming more and more beautiful and desirable every day. I would fondle her fat each day, caressing her all over and making sure she knew how truly beautiful she was becoming.

After the weighing in, she would stand on some marks we put on the floor at one end of the bedroom and I took a picture of her naked with an electronic camera. These images went onto my computer and with a special program I could see the entire progression from about 100 lbs., when we started, to the present day. It was very enjoyable to see her body changing and growing.

"I'm really starting to get fat, now, aren't I?" she'd say, fondling her fat and bending into it, so it looked even fatter. "Are you sure you want me to get fatter than this?"

"Yes, darling," I would say, kissing her fat, "this is a good beginning, but I want you to be even more beautiful."

"Good, cause I am really hungry!" she'd say, "what can I eat now?" and we'd go off into the kitchen an prepare something yummy for her.

She stopped working after the fourth week. She said she was spending all the money she made on new clothes anyway. "Besides, it takes too much time away from eating," she said happily, finishing another box of doughnuts. She stopped wearing clothes entirely, which was fine with me.

Her breasts had been quite small, especially after she lost that weight. As she began to gain weight, her breasts got bigger and fuller. As the rest of her grew larger, her breasts stood out more and more prominently. She was proud of her new large breasts and loved to have them fondled and admired. All this fat she added was so soft - not like a woman who has been fat for many years. Her skin stretched and stretched and she developed deep, luscious folds of fat where her new fat rested. Her belly grew larger and larger, spilling down onto her lap. When she sat upright, she first has one, then two and then three large rolls of soft fat at her sides. She developed a delightful waddle and when she walked her soft rolls of flesh undulated and quivered in the most sexy way. Her huge ass rolled from side to side and her fat thighs were so enticing. She would come to bed and drape her arm across me and the rolls of fat under her arm would spread against me, giving me an instant erection, which we would take into her fat cheeks and suck like a big piece of candy.

"Look at how big I am getting," she'd say, when I got home, holding her enormous breasts in her hands, or lifting her belly, or learning over one shoulder so the fat on her back rolled up.

"Yes, you are getting more beautiful every day!" I'd exclaim rapturously, coming over to kiss, fondle and admire whatever fatness she was showing me. She loved it best when I would caress in the folds of her fat, adoring the feeling of her fatness.

For my birthday, she asked me for breakfast in bed. She ate 9 eggs fried in butter (with melted butter poured on top) with 2 loaves of toasted french bread spread with a pound and a half of butter and then covered with a pound of honey (she had developed quite a sweet tooth), a pound of bacon, 6 slices of whole wheat bread (fried in the bacon fat), a pound of link sausage, 3 large helpings of hash browns fried golden brown in pounds of lard, 2 large cinnamon rolls and three quarts of my cream milk shake. When we weighed her after this meal, she weighed a trim 326 lbs! We made love slowly, for hours.

She would sit at home in front of the TV and eat 12 bags of potato chips with a gallon of heavy dip and then I would come home and cook her lunch for her. She loved pancakes. I would make her two dozen pancakes soaked in 2 pounds of butter and an entire bottle of real maple syrup. She loved to have me put the platter down on the floor so she could get on all fours naked and eat from the plate. I could never keep my cock in my pants for long, watching her huge stomach swaying and brushing the floor, her watermelon sized breasts pressed into the carpet, undulating from side to side. She also love to go this with a big double chocolate cake, which looked so beautiful all over her face when she was done.

"Maybe you should just get me a trough," she'd say, making pig noises and thrusting her hungry mouth into the mounds of food.

"Come along, piggy," I'd say, draping a tie or some other convenient halter over her neck, leading her around the room on all fours.

"Piggy wants more pancakes, please," she'd complain and I would lead her back to her platter. She loved to have me kiss and lick her face clean after she'd done this. She would come and sit on my lap, my cock thrust deep within her, bent toward me over her huge belly so I could clean her face with my tongue and kiss her.

About the time she hit 450 lbs, I received a shock at work: another outfit was buying our company and the management team was going to receive a huge amount of money as a retirement settlement. Here I was 36 and retired. Life was good. I hurried home to tell my darling the good news.

I came home to find my luscious darling had covered herself from head to foot in oil. She undressed me and spread her huge body onto me. She had made some butter cream frosting, using about 2 pounds of butter and 4 pounds of powdered sugar.

"You look so good," she said, "all you need is a little icing." And she took a pastry knife and covered the front of me in icing and then ate it all off.

"Guess what?" I said, while she licked and sucked the frosting off of me and I fondled her oiled fat. "Another company bought mine, so I get to retire."

"Really?" she said, pausing for a moment. "Does that mean you don't have to leave me every day and can stay home with me and help me get even bigger?"

"Yes, that is just what that means," I said, losing my train of thought as she started eating the icing from my crotch. When she had eaten all the frosting, she lay down and her breasts and stomach were smeared thick in icing from brushing against me while she ate.

"Your turn now, lover," she said. "Come and get my icing. "It will be so nice to have you home," she said as I started on her breasts.

"This is a lot of icing," I said.

"It's good for you and besides," she said, "you're much too thin." She thrust her icing covered breasts into my face and moved around until I'd eaten off all the icing. Then I started on her belly. That was a lot more rich buttery stuff than I was used to and I was afraid of getting heartburn. Then my darling brought me a big plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and fed it to me while she massaged my body with hers and told me how she'd found this wonderful food delivery company that would deliver almost anything right to your door. She'd made a kind of muumuu out of some old sheets to wear when they delivered the food and had been waiting patiently for me to get home to show me how good she was going to be to me.

I was feeling very full by this time, but every time I protested that I was full, she'd suck my cock for a while and put one of her gigantic boobs for me to suck, then she'd feed me some more. Her body was so huge and lovely. The oil on her body made her look and feel even fatter than she was. It felt so good to run my hands in and out of the folds of her fat. Well, if she wanted me to gain a little weight, that was ok with me. I could always work it off later.

She woke me at 2am for a couple of maple bars and a milk shake. "Time for your 2am feeding, honey," she crooned. I ate the maple bars while she rubbed her fat body, pinched her big nipples and told me how excited it made her to think of my body getting bigger. Then she rubbed my back with her huge boobs until I fell asleep.

The next morning she met me coming out of the shower, "now it's your turn," she said, leading me over to where she stood each morning to get her picture taken. She took my picture and weighed me (178 lbs) and then took her picture and weighed her (562 lbs).

Then she took me into the kitchen, where she had prepared breakfast. She had her usual 9 egg breakfast, but she'd prepared me a 4 egg breakfast with bacon, sausage, toast and home fries. It was very good, but it was a lot of food. She looked so disappointed whenever I seemed to be stopping eating however, that I did manage to put it all away. I was stuffed. She took me to my chair in the livingroom and while we watched TV she would eat a couple of doughnuts and then give me one. Or open a Cadbury chocolate bar and eat most of it and give me a piece. The brought in two bowls of ice cream about 11:00 - a big one for her and a smaller one for me. For lunch she made me two big hamburgers and french fries, while she had four burgers and about three times as many fries. She liked to keep a pan of melted butter by her fries to dip them in. After I finished my burgers, she started dipping my fries and feeding them to me. "Just one more, honey?" I undressed and felt a lot better.

"I wish you wouldn't wear clothes around the house," she remarked. "I want to see you from every angle as you get bigger for me."

"I'll get cold," I protested.

"I'll keep you warm," she crooned, kneeling on the floor in front of me and draping her immense belly over my knees.

"Whatever my big beautiful girl wants," I said, cupping her tits in my hands and pinching her nipples lightly. "How about a snack?"

She squealed with delight and pounded off into the kitchen to get us something good.

That afternoon, we made love for several hours in a leisurely way. She did manage to feed me 2 more doughnuts. Then I took a nap. She woke me at 6pm with a big Lasagne dinner with garlic bread and ham and deep fried roast potatoes and apple pie and ice cream for desert. I really didn't want any pie, but she put a little bit of pie on her tit with some ice cream and offer it to me to suck it off. Then she put more on. She ate two pies and a quart of double cream ice cream herself. Again at 2am, she woke me, this time with an eclair and a milk shake.

After a month of this treatment, I didn't have any clothes that fit. She made up one of her muumuu dresses and went out shopping for me. I'd never been fat, but now my waist had grown quite large. I'd grown a generous set of love handles and my arms didn't rest at my sides anymore. I'd gained 65 lbs with her urging. Every morning we would take our pictures together, weigh each other and then sit at the computer to watch the animated version of her getting bigger and then mine. Every time she watched mine she was so hot and eager.

As I sat on the couch waiting for her to come back, I felt the rolls of fat covering my body and imagined her eyes looking hungrily at me. It made me hungry, so I went into the kitchen and got some cream filled doughnuts and made myself a large milk shake. As I bit into the first doughnut, I could almost feel myself getting fatter. I realized I was holding my stomach in and as I took another bite, I relaxed and felt my stomach against my legs. It felt so good.

When she walked in, she gave a happy squeal of surprise, "eating without me, I see." And she went and got me a six pack of beer and a box of eclairs and a six pack of beer for herself. She removed her clothes and brought the clothes she'd bought me.

"How did you enjoy being out and shopping?" I asked.

"Well, you know, I'd rather be here with you, " she said, fondling my belly, "but it is nice for a change. There was a man who was ogling me, he came up to me and said I was very beautiful."

"You are," I said

"And you will be, too, my darling," she said. She brought out the pants. The waist size was 60. "When these fit we can go out togetheru and I won't feel like I'm with some little shrimp." She'd gotten several other pairs of trousers, even larger than the first and shirts and underwear to match. She held up the biggest pair of briefs I'd ever seen and said, "Oh, it makes me so excited to think of you in these, filling these!" She got us some chips and dip and a few candy bars. We watched a movie and she fed me chocolate on her thighs.

For dinner that night we made fried chicken and deep fried dumplings. I was determined to eat everything she gave me, which turned out to be 24 pieces of chicken, 10 dumplings and a cherry cobbler. Not to be outdone, I fed her the same. She was so happy that I ate as much as she did. She wasn't full and I was practically catatonic, but it felt so good as she massaged my swollen belly and licked by cock. I came all over myself and she licked that up, too.

Every morning, she would kneel at my feet and rub her face against my belly and say, "oh you are so very sexy. I love you big belly and big thighs. You make me want you so much every pound you gain makes me want you more. Please keep getting bigger and bigger for me, my love!"

To which I would reply, "what's for breakfast darling, I'm staved!" of course.

By my next birthday, we was at 654 and I was at 401. It was a lot easier to eat the same as she did now. She loved to stuff me full to bursting. Then she'd touch my cock and open her mouth and I'd cum into her waiting lips. We'd lie in bed fondling each others' fat and feeding each other golden syrup on a spoon (I'd developed quite a sweet tooth). Then sometimes she'd come and sit on my lap and I'd suck her tits and fondle her fat till she came, or else she'd put a pie on the floor and get on all fours to eat it while I pounded into her from behind. She loved to oil my fat body and then run herself oils from my fat.

It made me so hungry to feel her soft caresses over my body, knowing how much my fat excited her, then running my hands over her and knowing how much her enormous fat body excited me.

When I was really stuffed and she still wanted me to eat more, she'd take a bite of something like an eclair and eat it, then she'd take another and chew it, and then put her mouth over mine and put the chewed eclair in my mouth to swallow. She ordered several tubs of that bulking up compound body builders eat and started putting it in our milk shakes. She was delighted when she topped 700 lbs. and I topped 450. That night we went out and had a dozen pizzas.

She was so eager to please that it made me eager to please her. What can you say about a girl who wakes you at 2 am with a sandwich made by buttering two large pieces of bread with a quarter pound of butter and placing half a pound of bacon inside - who says, "here darling, eat this and I'll have one, too, and a yummy milk shake!" One of her favorite things to do is to take a link of cooked (cold) sausage inside of a stick of butter and put it half in and half out of her mouth - we "kiss" and chew and eat it all up. Yummy. She likes to do the same thing with cream filled doughnuts or eclairs, too. Of course, she still likes to scewer a cream doughnut on my cock and then eat it off.

The other day I found her in the kitchen eating a bucket of lard by the handful. "What're you doing?" I asked.

"Well, " she admitted shyly, "you've been getting so beautifully big that I was afraid you might catch up to me, so I wanted to eat the most fattening thing I could think of."

I took the bucket away from her, reached my hand in and got a big glob of lard. I put it in front of her mouth and she eagerly devoured it. I am the luckiest guy on the planet.