The Weight Loss Camp
A Serialized Novel by Wilson Barbers

Epilogue

Winter was typically a slack season at Camp Venn, though with all the renovations the place was undergoing, Bob and Shelley were kept busy that year. Plans to reorient the facility from a weight loss to an exercise and nutrition camp for large-sized clients had been approved by Kay Venn and her new partner, Dale Harvey. Venn Spa ("Where Heft and Health Meet") opened in its new guise the following Spring. It was hugely profitable thanks to Dale's canny promotion.

Bob and Shelley lived on grounds in their own home, a large A-frame cabin built that spring to accommodate the dual camp managers. They married the week their house was finished in an outdoor ceremony, a bright May day full of succulent promise. It was held on the lawn with all the campers in attendance. Mo Dowl appeared as the maid of honor with her latest boyfriend, a skinny English major that she'd apparently met in one of Bill's classes. The collegiate plumper had not surprisingly put on some pounds during the last semester: her hourglass form was starting to round out appealingly.

The professor was also present, a subdued looking Tina by his side. The receptionist (as she'd explained to Bob and Shelley one morning) was toning down her act to accommodate the image of a faculty wife. She seemed to be succeeding: in her crinoline dress and straight brown hair, she looked softer, more feminine, even if she hadn't gained any weight.

Max Venn was never seen in the area again. A year later, Kay divorced him on the grounds of desertion.

In a way it was too bad, as the accountant would have certainly appreciated the growth Venn Spa experienced. The facility was an undeniable success, so much so that Kay and Dale were considering franchising the name. By turning the camp's emphasis from weight loss to fat health, they'd given a whole population of defeated dieters new hope. Fat fanciers from all over the country began to frequent the facility, some with their rotund lovers, others looking to find one.

One June Friday Bob saw a familiar name on the checklist of new arrivals: a chubby lady his age who was close to the weight of Mo Dowl the first time he'd met her. She was visiting the spa with her paramour, and with this realization an unexpected twinge of jealousy hit Bob.

The woman was Ann, his old love from before his days at Venn.

According to her chart, Ann had grown quite a bit in the two years since they'd split. But then so had he. At close to twice his old weight, Bob was an exemplar of well-fed healthiness; with his muscular arms and broad body, he looked like a beardless lumberjack. Just the sight of him leading the group in exercises was an inspiration to many male campers, as the even fatter Shelley was to women visitors.

Bob spent the rest of the day wondering what his old girlfriend looked like, the images from his old weight gain fantasy reappearing in his head. Was he being disloyal to Shelley? As long as he didn't act on his fantasies, things were okay - at least that's what he told himself.

Saturday morning, Ann appeared at the spa with her lover in tow. He first saw her from behind in the parking lot - but immediately knew who it was from the way she held her substantially thicker body. She was dressed in a pair of acid-washed jeans that looked a size too small for her chunky thighs and hips. Her great round ass shelved up wonderfully behind her, jauntily angling her tee shirt as she walked to the office door. Bob came up behind her and said, smiling, "Can I help you, Ma'am?"

"Bob!" Ann cried happily, turning to face him. She looked around 250, and the gain had done much to banish her once boyish figure. Her breasts had become big and upfront, pushing forward atop her spherical belly. Ann's angular face had filled out, making her prominent cheeks red and apple-sized, her kissable lips even bigger. As she'd grown, a beauty mark had become more noticeable on her face: it rested on the hang of her second chin, drawing attention to her fulsome jowl. She'd also let her hair grow long, spilling onto her globular shoulders in waves.

Poking Bob's prominent gut with a pudgy finger, Ann scrutinized her old lover and noted, "You look fat and happy!"

"Could say the same for you," Bob answered. "You look pretty hot, Ann."

"Glad you think so," she said. "I see you got married." She rolled his wedding band between two fat fingers; the contact sent a tingle through his frame.

"And you?" he finally asked, looking back to the slender young man unloading suitcases from the trunk of his Porsche.

"Looks like it's serious with Ned," Ann told him happily. "All those years of fighting weight gain, and as soon as I said, 'fuck it,' I wound up finding a man who enjoyed me fat. If only we'd both known sooner, eh?" She looked up at him, her eyes a mixture of sauciness and regret.

"Maybe it turned out for the best. Our time together wasn't bad, just incomplete."

"You're right," Ann sighed, turning to introduce her boyfriend Ned to Bob. He looked about five years younger than Ann and was obviously intrigued by Venn Spa. His eyes kept moving, trying to take in the Rubenesque beauty all around them; with a twinge of possessiveness, Bob hoped that the guy was going to be content with just looking. He hated the thought of Ann getting burned by Camp Venn again.

That afternoon at lunch, though, such worries were banished. Ned was clearly in thrall with his fat flame. They'd joined Bob and Shelley at their table for lunch, and he'd barely eaten his meal between keeping his eyes on Ann and offering to get extra servings.

Shelley watched this interaction with an amused look on her face.

"So that's your old girlfriend," she said, as they watched the couple leave the dining area. "Do you regret your break-up, seeing her the way she is now?"

Bob looked over at his huge, stout wife and shook his head. Ann may have grown, but she was tiny compared to Shelley. After their first dinner with Kay and Dale, Bob's wife had developed an appreciation for eating that surpassed anything she'd ever felt before. She was more than a hundred-and-fifty pounds heavier and carried it better than ever, moving her quarter-ton-plus super-sized frame with slow and sinuous grace. Sure, Ann looked hot - but Shelley was a goddess!

"No," Bob said, pausing over his dessert, letting out his belt to accommodate his settling, full-fed belly. He looked across the room at the tables with diners in all shapes and degrees of fatness, contented couples and would-be couples. "The past two years have been the best of my life."

"Mine, too," Shelley said. "But I know how you two ended. If you think there's still some unfinished business between you, it's probably best if you completed it." With that, she rose to get another helping of dessert.

Bob appreciatively watched her waddle across the room, her voluminous rear swaying. They visited the Venn/Harvey house twice a week for dinner, had their own private binges, too. Their nights of gluttony were mutual and sensual, part of their sexual life together. As his wife got bigger, the frequency of his arousal seemed to also increase.

Two days later, Bob got the opportunity to spend some time alone with Ann. It wasn't anything that either of them had planned (though later Bob would wonder if Shelley's absence was a bit too convenient), but once the chance presented itself, they both seized it. Shelley had gone into town to get some groceries; Ned was back in their room, playing with his laptop. The majority of the camp was resting after dinner.

Seated on the sandy beachfront, the two talked through the evening about their lives since their break-up. Their conversation was energetic and filled with moments of mutual laughter, as only the talk between two adults who'd shared a part a life together could be. If only they had been this open during their relationship, Bob thought at one point, perhaps they'd still be together.

"I'm glad we did this," he finally said, leaning over to kiss Ann on the chins, hitting her beauty mark. It was a companion's, not a lover's kiss.

"So am I," she said. She rose to adjust her sweatpants, pressing her pendant belly and pulling up the elastic band. "I was angry at you before, but seeing you and your wife - and seeing myself now - I realize that what happened was for the best. I could never have been happy with you at this size because I always would have been comparing myself to the way I'd been when we first met."

With that, she walked away, while Bob lay on his back, looked at the clear night sky and considered her words.

He watched the stars until his stomach began to make demanding sounds. Shelley had probably returned from her shopping trip in town, so he hefted himself up to return to the cabin. Along the way he passed a super-size couple on a concrete bench: two male clients in their second week, he recognized. When they'd first arrived at Camp Venn, he'd bet neither could have walked this far without being seriously out of breath.

Shelley was in the kitchen, pounding two large round steaks, humming to a Janis Joplin CD as she readied dinner. Without saying a word, Bob placed a palm on her prominent left hip and took the kitchen utensil from her hand. Then he led her out of the kitchen.

"Dinner'll be late if we do this," Shelley said, as she followed him to their large bedroom. The room had the same heavy wood furnishings as the Harvey/Venn house: a custom-made double king-sized bed with an oak end table on each side, a mock armoire with a television and VCR, and two dressers. On both tables were bowls of hard candy.

"I can wait," he said, grabbing her huge arms and leaning over to kiss her pursy lips. Shelley's chins pushed against his; their bellies flattened together. "How about you?"

She returned his kiss.

"Had a snack on the way to the supermarket," she admitted, reaching behind to grab the apron string resting on her great shelving rear. They parted to quickly disrobe, and Bob stepped back to review his wife's form. The three building folds on her inner thighs; the multiple rolls on her sides; her overflowing upper arms; great swelling hips - he loved every inch of her.

Though her extra weight had mainly gone into her lower half, a nice bit of poundage had accumulated on her pendulous breasts. They hung with both nipples and aureole obscured by her gut; every move she made, they seemed to alter in size, so at moment it appeared as if the left was substantially larger than the right - and then the reverse.

Bob embraced his wife's pyramidal body, arms sinking into her cool soft flesh as he nuzzled his face between her mams, tasting the sweat of her cleavage, sniffing the womanliness hidden between her rolls of avoirdupois. Shelley was breathing heavily, her front rising and falling with each gulp of air she took.

He thought of being totally engulfed by such fleshiness as his face pushed into her, and as usual he found the thought exciting. Pulling back, Bob lifted her left breast and uncovered the nipple. Holding it before him, he began to circle her well-defined aureole with his tongue. From the kitchen, you could still hear Janis bemoaning her fate.

"I used to wonder why men are so obsessed with women's tits," Shelley said, as he began to nip her teasingly. "But the way this feels, I'm not going to complain about the attention."

"Yours have definitely grown in the last year," Bob noted.

"All of me has definitely grown," Shelley shot back. "Though I'm glad at least part of me meets with your approval."

"All of you meets with my approval," Bob said, turning his attention to the hangs of her upper arms. "It's a wonderful body. Huge. Sexy. The form of a goddess." She snorted, but he wasn't going to let that dissuade him. He kneeled and kissed the front of his fat wife's quivering belly, feeling his own substantial paunch as it pushed between his upper legs.

"Lay down," he told her, and Shelley obliged by lowering herself onto the bed. As she lay on her back, her body spread across the mattress. Beneath the hang of his own belly, Bob felt his fattened member growing.

He kneeled by the bed and kissed her passionately on the lips, her cheeks and jowls, her blubbery chins. Her mouth tasted of cherry hard candy, the rest of woman. Bob dug his tongue under her chins, as he stroked her fat rolls and striations with his fingers. Then he began to concentrate on her legs, holding each great calf in his hands and prying open her inflated thighs.

Following up the ever-widening rolls of her inner legs with his fingertips, Bob pushed through the final fattest folds to reach her prize beneath. He remembered their first time together, his unsuccessful attempt to hit her vagina with his mouth. These days he knew better than to even try.

His hand was totally cloaked by her thighs and belly apron, but he could feel the moist hairlines guarding her. Bob prodded his middle fingers past her pubes and began exploring this familiar territory. Shelley began to moan her appreciation. Face resting on a voluminous thigh, he encircled her clitoris with two of his fingers.

She sounded like a mountain transitioning into a volcano, and the image of her uncontrollably giving into his ministerings prompted him into rougher probing. His thumb and knuckles strained against her tonnage. The air grew alive with the scent of her passion.

There were no more words, just the gasps and pants of a grown woman in heat. Shelley trembled beneath him, unable to move in the ecstasy of the moment. But her still body had plenty of jiggling motion of its own. Her thigh slid beneath his head, as her thigh folds clenched with her building excitement. Finally, even his built-up wrists were unable to handle the strain; he pulled his hand out and wiped it on their rumpled sheets.

In that moment's respite, Bob recalled his final night with Ann: the fantasy he'd used to keep himself going, the lies he'd been telling to both her and himself. Now he was married to a woman so much more exciting than he ever could have imagined, while Ann seemed to be living his fantasy with another man.

He pushed this thought aside and returned to Shelley, kneeling against the foot of the bed after getting her to scrunch down toward him and open her legs over the edge of the bed. Bob was aching with anticipation as she lifted her folds to allow him access. Holding his belly with his hands, he arched his back and aimed for her. Once he penetrated, he was sucked in fully, as if her vagina were ravenous. Letting go of his forefront, he used the balls of his feet to raise and lower himself against her. Shelley's flesh followed him.

From on high, he stared into her face, which had grown red from the exertion. The rueful expression he remembered initially seeing on her face had vanished, as her face had grown fuller. As her passion remounted, her nostrils flared into her bulging cheeks; her eyes stared into the unseeable. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Bob felt himself hit the peak of ejaculation.

And then, he came, filling up her well-filled body with a strong spray of liquid. As it overflowed between them, the hot juice flowed down the uppermost folds of her thighs, soaking the sheets.

"Jesus, Bob!" Shelley shouted, and she began writhing frantically against the bed, nearly sitting up and forcing the head of his exploding penis more intensely against her. He almost fell back to the floor, but instead grabbed her wrists and pulled so they'd get even closer. Shelley shrieked happily and began to shudder. Bob continued to pump until he was no longer capable.

"Phew!" Shelley said, as she backed her way up onto the mattress. "I can only assume that you weren't out with Ann just now . . ."

"Actually," Bob told her as he joined her on the mattress, "I was. But we just talked."

"So was this all from pent-up sexual frustration?" She grabbed a bowl from the table and offered a candy to Bob. He took a few seconds to unwrap it before answering.

"Not in the least," Bob answered. "If there's one thing Camp Venn has taught me it's to not keep things pent-up." He popped the candy into his mouth. "Seeing Ann here made it clear that it's over. And even clearer how lucky I am to be with you."

Shelley smiled and patted her husband's hirsute belly.

"We've both been lucky," she stated. She rolled to the edge of the bed and said, "My turn to do dinner. I'd better get dinner started or we'll never get to sleep tonight."

"Need any help?" Bob asked. She had, he noted with a smile, grabbed only her apron to wear to the kitchen.

"Only if you promise not to distract me again."

"Can't do that," Bob grinned, and he rose to follow his gorgeous super-sized spouse. Despite his own size, he felt light in a way he'd never known before. He stepped through his clothes, leaving them where they lay on the wooden floor.

Fat Magic

Dinner in the cabin was very, very late . . .