Weight Room Title Bar

My Athletic Friend
by Weight Watcher
(translated from German by Bellyrubber)

In the gym, Julia was my best friend. We spent a lot of time together, mostly playing sports. We played a lot of volleyball together, and she recently made the school's varsity basketball team. She was 17 years old, 5'10" tall, and her 139 pounds were pure muscle -- not an ounce of fat. She was the kind of girl who could eat whatever she wanted and not gain an ounce, which is why so many girls in our class were jealous of her.

I did too. I always tried to get in shape through sports like she did, but in the past three years it has gotten much harder. I wasn't able to preserve the type of figure I had when I was fourteen. When I reached my full height of 5'7" that year, I weighed only 106 pounds. Too thin, my mother thought. But that certainly remedied itself -- with puberty arrived a more feminine figure, and for a brief time I had the kind of figure I only dream about today. At 15, I weighed 119 pounds and had measurements of 33-22-33. I was in seventh heaven! But the pounds accumulated, and when each birthday passed, I had gained another 20 pounds, in spite of volleyball and regular swimming. At the beginning of this year, when I brought 165 pounds to the scale, I was finished with volleyball -- I couldn't get to the simplest balls anymore! Since I finished with sports, my chocolate consumption has climbed almost daily.

On the other hand, Julia was still playing volleyball and was still on the basketball team. Puberty only made her body more athletic, rather than furnishing it with layers of fat. I was envious. She had no double chin, no rolls of blubber on her waist, no wobbling rear end -- a dream! On the other hand, however, she was not so feminine. She had next to no breasts and only a hint of hips. In spite of that, the boys followed along behind her -- and I hadn't had a date in two years! But we got along wonderfully, and my weight problem played almost no part in our relationship.


It was during Fall vacation, when Julia invited me to breakfast one morning. She had spent a week with her Aunt in the country, and was talking enthusiastically about recipes and the different kinds of delicious foods she had eaten there.

"My Aunt totally spoiled me! Every day at noon she cooked a real three-course meal, and sometimes we would still be eating into the evening. Imagine that! I don't believe I've ever eaten as much as I did last week! By the end of it, I couldn't fasten my jeans!"

"I have the calorie-collector for both of us right here," I said, and patted my belly.

"My Aunt has absolutely no respect for calories. I think she can't cook at all without cream!"

"Isn't that the Aunt who is somewhat plump herself?"

"Yes. She weighs 240 pounds, but she doesn't mind. Look, she gave me some cake to bring home!"

Julia held out a large container with marble cake and fruitcake and took a piece of each. She had already eaten two rolls and three pieces of toast! That was new -- before, if she had eaten that much, she would have been full.

"Hey, you're really getting into this, aren't you!" I had had to quit after one slice of toast because I couldn't fasten my largest pair of jeans this morning.

"Yes, eating is fun! I wouldn't have thought that before. Do you think that I've gotten too fat?"

"Oh stop! You can still eat whatever you want and not gain weight."

"No, I gained two or three pounds last week. But as soon as I start playing basketball again, I'll lose it."

As she spoke, she took two more pieces of cake. Now I could no longer restrain my hunger. "Oh well, give me the box too. One pound more or less doesn't matter for me."

"'That's right. . . only don't let it spoil your appetite,' my Aunt says at least three times every day."

To end the story, we finished breakfast just before noon, having eaten half of both of the cakes. We were so full that we both gasped for air and held our bellies. I had more to hold than Julia did.

"I guess that this "lunch" turned out OK," she said, then belched loudly and laughed. "I felt just like this all last week."

On the way home, I noticed with a curse that my pants were giving me trouble. Naturally, I had to unfasten them so the cake could work its way comfortably into my stomach. Oh man. . . not a good day for my waistline!


School had begun again, and the stress of homework, nervous teachers and stupid classmates were operating in full gear. On a Tuesday, Julia and I were both finished with our classes by 12:30.

"Hey, I feel like going to McDonald's. Do you want to come?" Julia was hungry again.

"Sure!" At home I would just have stuffed myself again with cold pizza, so why not eat a small salad at McDonald's? I took the smallest salad and decided to pass on the dressing. Julia ordered two cheeseburgers, a large order of fries with mayonnaise, and a large Coke.

"You haven't forgotten your Aunt's motto, have you!" I commented, my eyes widening.

"I'm just hungry. And I'm sick and tired of the yogurt and granola my mom always gives me for lunch. Would you have thought that cheeseburgers could be so delicious?"

"Oh yeah," I answered. "Look at me and you'll know the answer to that question." She looked surprised and shook her head.

"Oh stop! I honestly don't think you're too fat, Bettina!"

"I might agree with that if my body looked more like yours does."

"No honestly. I don't think a few more pounds are so bad."

"Well, just wait. If you keep feeding yourself like this, it'll happen to you too."

"I guess so. I'm still a little hungry. I think I'll get something else."

Believe it or not, she had devoured both her cheeseburgers and the fries! And I was still nibbling on my salad. . .

When she went to the counter, I noticed for the first time that her jeans contained a genuine butt, and her thighs were stretching the material to its limit. She really seemed to have gained weight. For the first time ever, she had something like feminine curves, although she was still a long way from being fat. But her ass did wobble a little -- it had never done that before.

She returned with a Big Mac and a regular burger. "I couldn't decide. They both looked so delicious in the pictures on the wall!" And these two "calorie-bombs" also disappeared into her stomach in no time at all.

"Oh man, if I ate as much as you, I would probably weigh 240 by Christmas!"

"But you don't play sports anymore. I'll work off these burgers tonight during basketball practice, no problem!"


When I went by her house that evening, I saw a light on in the kitchen. Her parents were away again, and Julia was supposed to be at basketball practice -- but was she? I rang the bell. Julia opened the door, munching on something. She turned red when she saw me.

"Hi! I thought you were supposed to be at basketball!"

"Um. . . yeah. . . I don't feel so well, so I stayed home."

"Too much to eat?"

No. I'm still hungry, whether you believe it or not."

I could see through her tight T-shirt that she had opened her jeans. Through the opening -- I could hardly believe my eyes -- was a round little belly. The calories she was consuming were certainly doing their work.

"You can't fasten your jeans anymore, can you!"

"Yo mama!" she said, and rolled her eyes ironically. "Did you come just to tell me I've gained weight? Either come in and eat a burger with me, or leave."

I quickly decided on the hamburger, after recalling how little enjoyment I had found in the dressing-less salad I had had for lunch.

The kitchen looked like a battlefield. On one side of the table lay the hamburger buns, and on the other stood tomatoes, lettuce, ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise. On the stove, a pan with meat patties sizzled.

"Were you waiting for someone?" I asked, astonished at the amount of food.

She blushed. "No, I've already told you that I'm hungry."

It became a very "nourishing" evening. both of us ate five or six hamburgers, and we cheerfully helped ourselves to her father's beer. When we had finished eating, we were stuffed. It was obvious to me that my belly had reached a record size, and Julia's waist no longer had much resemblance to its former self. Somewhat exhausted and unable to stand, we sat on our chairs.

"I'm afraid that by tomorrow I'll have reached 175," I said with a groan and patted my swollen belly. A new record for my weight chart. That is 70 pounds more than I weighed when I was fourteen years old!

"You keep records on your weight?"

"Sure. A girl has to know in which months she gains the most weight."

"And which ones are those, usually?"

November and December. About ten pounds every year. This year, I've already gained at least nine pounds in October. It looks like it will be a really fat Christmas!"

"I've never kept a record of my weight. I don't think I've gotten fatter this year though."

"But you look much plumper than you were this Summer!"

"Yes, I guess my jeans have gotten somewhat tighter. But I don't have any idea how much I've gained."

"Then you should get on the scale. Right now!"

"What. . . now? When I'm so full?"

"Sure! I'll weigh myself too."

She couldn't think of anymore objections, and so we went into the bathroom where the scale was.

"With clothes or without?"

"When you want to know exactly, you have to do it without."

She took her T-shirt off and slipped out of her jeans. And -- surprise! -- there was no way she was as lanky as I remembered her being in the locker room. Her thighs had become more substantial, and it was clear that the new weight wasn't muscle. For the first time, she had a real butt, with two round, yielding, wobbling buns. But that was nothing compared to the changes in her waist! Arched out in front of her was a globular little belly. A belly that had formerly been completely flat. If I hadn't seen her eating, I would have assumed she was pregnant.

"What are you staring at?" she asked somewhat testily.

"Well, you've gained a little weight recently. Just look at your belly."

"Yeah, I see myself. But I'm still a long way from having rolls of blubber like yours!"

Now she was being unfair! First, she tells me that a few pounds more or less don't matter, and now she abuses me about my rolls. And it's not even true! I mean, my belly does form considerable rolls, but only when I have to sit down. At the moment, standing with tight jeans and a blouse that was too small, my belly looked spherical and quite plump. No rolls. . . nothing hanging over the belt. . . nothing.

As I stood there in the bathroom and Julia took her first step onto the scale, it occurred to me that my bra had become too small. My boobs bulged out the sides of the cups! Small rolls of fat oozed out everywhere! And I had just bought the bra this Summer. Oh well, a few pounds will do that.

The scale's dial swung back and forth, moving more and more slowly until it finally stopped just under 155. Julia gave a short cry and sprang off the scale.

"That can't be right! I can't have gained sixteen pounds in the last three weeks! That can't be!"

"Well, I'm not surprised, considering the amount of food you've devoured! Besides, a few pounds more or less doesn't matter, as you said yourself."

Julia was silent for a moment, but then gathered her senses. "I'll lose it all playing basketball. And now you get on the scale."

Because I already foresaw how it would turn out, it wasn't so bad for me. I hefted my poundage onto that small appliance that has such great power to lift or depress the spirit, and took a deep breath while sucking in my gut so I could read the numbers. It wasn't just 175. . . it was 180! Immediately, I remembered all the meals I had eaten during the past three weeks: the breakfast at Julia's -- that had added two pounds; the numerous clandestine visits to McDonald's for large orders of fries -- surely five or six pounds; my recent consumption of chocolate (I had "discovered" 1/2 pound chocolate bars and for the past two weeks made sure to have a "two day supply" on hand) -- again, five or six pounds; and then, naturally, the occasional burgers and beer at home. What I wouldn't give to rid myself of some of these pounds!

"Well, how much is it?" asked Julia, from the edge of the bathtub where she had sat down. Did I detect a roll of fat on her waist?

"170," I lied, because I didn't want to give her any more ammunition to attack me with this evening. "I haven't gained that much. Only five pounds since the Summer."

I was surprised about telling such a daring lie, and asked myself whether my round belly would betray me. But Julia was so depressed about her weigh-in that she didn't have any suspicions. Anyway, I was already so chubby that I could get away with lying about a few pounds.

I tried to comfort Julia by telling her that, for someone who was 5'10", 155 pounds was definitely not on the road to obesity, but her mood couldn't be salvaged. She sent me home and wouldn't even let me help her clean up the kitchen. At home, I took a good look at my protruding belly in the mirror. For "only" 25 pounds overweight, it was really quite impressive. Before going to bed, I decided to finish off the rest of my chocolate supply. . .


Julia's shock over her weight didn't last long. Two days later, she was once again living according to her Aunt's motto. In her family's presence, she didn't eat particularly much, but whenever her parents were away or when we paid a visit to that famous fast food restaurant, then she stuffed herself. She wasn't satisfied with less than four burgers, and most of the time she ate one or two orders of fries. And, of course, she couldn't eat anything at all without lots of lots of Coke.

In early December, two weeks after the evening when we both weighed ourselves, I watched her play basketball. My God, her eating had done amazing things to her! Her athletic body had developed a not-so-athletic layer of fat and gained some extremely feminine curves. For the first time, I saw her with noticeable breasts, and an obviously rounded belly swelled under her gym clothes. But still more eye-catching was her fatter ass, which could barely fit in her shorts. Whenever she ran, it wobbled back and forth to such an extent that I noticed several boys watching her buns rather than the game. And her thighs, which she had always been so proud of, had totally lost their tone. Her ample blubber wobbled whenever she walked or ran. But it wasn't just her figure that had changed. It struck me that she was having trouble keeping up with the flow of the game and that she fell behind her teammates when they went on offense. She didn't get the ball very often because she wasn't quick enough, and would stand gasping on the court because she was out of breath. At first, I was a little sad because her declining skills were obviously connected with her increased weight, but then I thought: she eats with so much devotion, why should she have to deal with the consequences?

I waited after the game until she came out of the locker room. "It didn't go so well today, did it?" I asked sympathetically.

"Not at all. Oh man, I've gotten so fat that I could barely bring up the rear and get anywhere near the basket so I could shoot."

"You've gained quite a bit of weight in the past few weeks, haven't you?"

"You can say that again. Man, I've gotten a real belly. Have you noticed it? I absolutely need new gym shorts. My ass has gotten so fat that I can hardly fit in these."

"How much do you weigh now?"

"I have no idea. I haven't gotten on the scale for a while. I'd guess about 165."

"Don't you want to try to diet? I think if you keep gaining, you'll be finished with basketball the way I was finished with volleyball. Of course, there is still McDonald's," I said ironically. But she didn't notice my tone!

"Yeah, you're right. Do you want to go? I'm completely starved, and at home mom will only feed me salad and crackers again!"

It took a double cheeseburger, a Big Mac, a regular cheeseburger and a large order of fries to fill that athlete's stomach. Also the obligatory Coke and a vanilla shake (because she "needed something different," as she said). I ate two regular burgers myself -- a mortal sin for my waistline -- persuading myself that, considering the "burger mountain" on Julia's tray, such a small meal was quite reasonable at McDonald's.

Julia devoured the burgers with gigantic bites in record time, stuffed the fries in her mouth with both hands, and chugged her shake. Meanwhile, I had eaten only my first burger and, watching how she was consuming food, had lost my appetite.

"Aren't you going to eat your second burger?" she asked greedily.

"No, you can have it," I stammered, a little bit confused, and she quickly devoured it.

"Are you full now?"

"Finally, yes. But, still, maybe we can go by the bakery on the way home."

"Well, anyway, you shouldn't wonder where this layer of fat is coming from, Jule," I said with a slight tone of warning.

"I don't wonder at all. But tell me something. Is it normal for a belly to be as swollen as mine is now whenever you've overeaten?"

Julia was so in love with eating that everything else had lost meaning for her. She no longer went to basketball but instead spent her afternoons on the banks of the reservoir eating chocolate and junk food. She neglected her schoolwork more and more, and eating became her main -- if still secret -- occupation. I spent a lot of time in her company, but she also went to pizza and fast food places by herself, so that she could face her mother's dinners of salad with a stuffed belly. Her mom explained to her that her weight gain was due to puberty, and that it would eventually reverse itself.


It was two weeks before Christmas when I finally persuaded Julia to go swimming with me. I had bought myself a new swimsuit to fit my increasingly voluptuous figure, and wanted to try it out. Julia noticed it immediately.

"Hey Bettina, you have a new swimsuit! It looks great!"

"Yeah, if I looked good in it, we would make a great team."

"Don't be silly. . . are you bothered by a few little rolls?"

"No. I'm just nervous that we might run into some classmates. Do you have a new suit too, Jule?"

She had stripped and was standing in front of me in her underwear. My God, she had gotten huge! She had gotten heavy boobs, and I would say that her waist measurement was in no way inferior to mine. Her belly was full and round, and it looked like she had just stuffed it with a few burgers. Wow! Everything on her was massive! I guessed that she must weigh almost 200 pounds, and couldn't figure out how someone could gain so much weight in such a short time. Our "weighing evening" was only four or five weeks ago, and she had weighed only 155 then!

Then she tried to put on her old suit. It was blue with red stripes up the sides, and she had always looked good in it. Not today. . .

She was getting tired just trying to pull the poor material over her fat thighs. It was obvious she would have trouble getting the suit on. "Hey, stop! You're just too fat for your old suit!" I said, laughing.

"Nonsense!" she snarled, and tried to force the material over her thighs. With great determination, she pulled it over her wide ass and then tried to pull it over her swollen gut. If I hadn't been standing right next to her, she would have given up trying to fit into a suit that was now several sizes too small. But now she wanted to prove to me that she could, with a little effort, cover her blubbery belly with the poor blue suit and also eventually capture her breasts under the stretched material. How she looked!

Where her upper arms and thighs oozed out of the suit, rolls of fat formed; her belly formed a tightly-compressed globe; and her breasts appeared on the verge of bursting through the material. She was a "female Michelin Man" who would cause a scene at the pool -- I was sure of that.

And she did cause a scene. Because of that, we didn't stay long. We ran into some classmates, who didn't insult us (something I am still grateful to them for) but whose eyes became as big as saucers when we both wobbled by them. Julia's appearance was now, let's say, "stimulating" for male eyes. After a few minutes, Julia also noticed what an "eye-catcher" she was, and we decided to leave. Julia wasn't at all happy, because she knew the time was past when most men would go on dates with her. And for one reason: SHE HAD GOTTEN TOO FAT!


After this experience, Julia changed her eating habits. No more "burger orgies." Only yogurt, salad, and crackers. The drop in caloric intake seemed to affect her -- she was really tired and seemed to lack the motivation to do anything. It took a great deal of effort just to drag herself to school every day. Whenever I asked her whether she wanted to have a burger, her face would brighten for a moment and then immediately darken. "I have to lose weight" was the only explanation I could get out of her. she also refused to wear jeans anymore. Just two weeks before her diet began, she had bought two new pairs of jeans two sizes larger than she needed. Now, she could barely fit them over her hips. Over her waistband hung a thick roll of fat, and I was sometimes afraid that her voluminous ass would burst her overstretched jeans.

She stuck with the diet until Christmas while she was at home. On the day before Christmas Eve, she was leaving to visit her Aunt in the country, and I paid her a visit just before she left. I brought her a little present that she really should have opened on Christmas Eve, because it wasn't entirely without a hint of the "feeding cure" I thought was awaiting her at her Aunt's house. I would rather not have been around when she opened it! But she couldn't wait and opened it right away.

Her face darkened visibly after she tore open the wrapping paper and opened the little package. She held up the gift between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, looking confused at first, and then becoming furious. Uh oh, I thought, I'd better get out of here before it gets really unpleasant.

"What do you call this?" she snapped, pulling the elastic belt to see how large it would get.

"I thought you could probably use it over Christmas. You won't have a chance to buy new jeans there, and I think we both realize that you won't LOSE weight at your Aunt's."

"But I'm not pregnant, my dear, and won't need an elastic belt."

"Well, if your Aunt cooks as well as she did on your last visit, the results are bound to show up on your slender waist."

Now she had to laugh. To claim that she had a slender waist was no different than saying that a walrus was made only of muscle and bone.

"Well, you're right," she finally responded. "The food is bound to be substantial at Aunt Jutta's. And I'm liable to gain a pound or two before I come home."

"How has your diet been going so far? You haven't been eating anything at all!"

"In the past twelve days, I've lost thirteen pounds, believe it or not. Now I'm down to 194."

"So you were up to 207?"

"Yeah. You saw how fat I was at the swimming pool. I could only see my feet if I bent way forward! My belly isn't quite so big anymore. But it's been really hard. Most of all, when you would ask me if I wanted to go for a burger. I wanted to forget about dieting then."

"Well, I wish you a good appetite and a happy holiday. Eat just enough so that I still recognize you when you come back. When are you coming back, by the way?"

"On New Year's Eve. Do you want to come over then?"

"Sure. I want to see whether you'll be using that elastic belt I gave you!"

She laughed, and we both said good-bye.


At Christmas, my family did one thing above all else -- we ate. Morning, noon, afternoon, evening and night. My mother went to great lengths to feed us. She cooked one delicious meal after another. And, of course, she made too much of everything. She made enough turkey to stuff six people, even though there are only three of us. Somehow, I couldn't permit any of the food to be thrown away. Then, a roast appeared in the "pipeline" almost before the previous meal had been cleared away. The rest of the cabbage and the last two dumplings, which my Dad couldn't finish, disappeared into my stomach and began to send warning signals that my ability to consume any more food was now in the "red zone."

The turkey/roast meal was at noon on Christmas Day. In the afternoon, we went to visit relatives, and I was amazed that there was already room in my belly for two pieces of cream tart. Of course, I got the following lecture: "Now Bettina, you've gained enough weight, haven't you? Be careful with that dessert. It has a lot of calories."

The only thing I had to be careful about was the button on my jeans. Of course it was riveted, but it was already starting to tear away from the denim. I also couldn't count on my zipper holding. But I still couldn't resist reaching for a piece of apple strudel. . .

In the evening, there was a cold buffet with everything my tastebuds craved: cold roast, turkey legs, lots of hard-boiled eggs, meat balls, a half dozen types of salads (also a noodle salad -- delicious!) and so on. And naturally, dessert! Three different kinds of pudding and chocolate mousse. I stuffed myself full of these desserts -- even though my day hadn't exactly been deficient in calories up to that point!

After my third bowl of chocolate mousse, I again had to hear about how fat I had gotten. Well fine, so my belly had reached record size. That wasn't so strange after three heaping plates of roast, egg and noodle salad, and several helpings of dessert. I thought not, anyway. But my elderly Aunt Rosemarie couldn't resist needling me: "When I was your age, Bettina, I had a wasp-like waist." Well I have the waist of a big fat bumblebee, I thought, though I didn't say anything. I didn't want to get into that kind of a discussion.

The button on my pants held until we sat down in the car to go home. With a "RIP" it tore through the material and finally gave my belly the freedom it needed. I exhaled and listened to my stomach digesting.

Needless to say, the food on the day after Christmas was no less substantial than on the previous day -- although there was less celebration surrounding meals. Finishing off the roast was an unspoken duty which we all devoted ourselves to. Why my mom felt it necessary in the afternoon to bake waffles smothered in whipped cream is a riddle to me, but we finished them off anyway. But I had second thoughts later when, in the kitchen I found no fewer than four empty eight ounce containers of cream. Each of us had consumed over a cup of pure cream, and I had probably had much more than that since I had sacrificed myself and finished the last two waffles!

For dinner, mom warmed up some stew and, even to this day, I have no clear memory of what happened after that. Right in the middle of a second helping I suddenly became very dizzy. I was finally convinced that my belly couldn't hold another bite. I staggered into my room, laid on my bed, loosened my clothes, and was quickly unable to move. I assured my anxious parents that I wasn't about to die, and asked them just to let me lie in peace. Which I then did.

After an especially restless night -- I could hardly sleep because my belly looked and felt like it weighed a ton, and rolled from one side of the bed to the other whenever I moved. I awoke the next morning dripping with sweat, and decided to swear off eating for the whole day. And for that day, I refrained from doing any further damage to my poor beer belly. But only for a day. . .

Something had sure changed: the scale showed 207 pounds! Twenty-seven pounds heavier than two months ago. A significant portion of this gain had occurred in the past few days. Man, was I fat! I felt infinitely fat and heavy. I weighed the same as Julia had before she began her diet -- except that I was three inches shorter than her! I couldn't get into my pants anymore, and I lost my breath if I had to walk up a flight or two of stairs. And I couldn't even manage a short sprint to the bus stop in the morning.

In the days following Christmas, I thought often about Julia and her Aunt. Were things going for her the way they were with me? My belly was stretched tight by New Year's Eve.


On New Year's Eve, I went over to Julia's house to see if she was back yet. Her mother answered the door.

"Hello Bettina! It's nice to see you. I notice that Christmas left its mark on you too!"

When she saw my confused expression, she added, " You've gained a lot of weight too, Bettina."

I reacted quickly. "Why 'too'? Has Julia gotten fatter?"

"'Gotten fatter' is an understatement."

She came closer and whispered, "She's absolutely splitting at the seams. My sister Jutta fed her like a pig. Now she wants to eat like she did at her Aunt's! We've been quarreling about it ever since she got back. I just think she's gotten too fat! Look for yourself. She's sitting in the kitchen."

Extremely curious, I went into the kitchen. On the kitchen counter sat Julia -- eating straight out of a big bowl of chocolate pudding. I almost didn't recognize her! Her face had gotten rounder and she had a double chin. She wore her old overalls which had always been much too big for her. Now, her lusher belly could barely fit inside it. It curved buddha-like, straining the material almost to the bursting point. On her belly rested her newly-plumpened breasts, which were only encased in a tight white T-shirt and were barely covered by the overalls. Jule was noticeably fatter than during her "gorging phase" before Christmas!

Julia had become a fat couch-potato, enjoying a sedate life of overindulgence. This fact was brought home to me when she didn't even get up to greet me. Instead, she just kept shoveling the pudding into her mouth with a big tablespoon.

"Hi Bebbina," I heard the muffled greeting from her chocolate-filled and be smeared mouth. "Siddown."

she swallowed some more pudding and asked me quite bluntly, "How much've you gained?"

It was embarrassing to talk so openly about my weight in front of her mother, but Julia continued, "I've gained twenty-two pounds! Can you believe that? In eight days, twenty-two pounds? That rubber belt you gave me came in handy. I wore my biggest jeans unzipped and kept them up using that belt."

"You mean you weigh 216 now?" I remembered her pre-Christmas "diet weight" of 194 quite clearly.

"Yep. And before the New Year arrives, I should be up to 220! Do you want some of this chocolate pudding?"

"Sure," I said, somewhat resigned to fate, considering her current ravenous state. "Let's get fat together!"

Fortunately, her mother had left prior to this exchange. If she hadn't, I certainly wouldn't have spoken so boldly. So we sat down, got our spoons busy, and soon the bowl was empty.

Since Julia's parents were leaving for a New Year's Eve party, and I had no plans, we spontaneously decided to spend New Year's Eve together.

"Chocolate pudding and champagne is all we need!" cried Julia enthusiastically and sprang up from the table -- something I didn't imagine her capable of, considering her new bulk. "I'll make some more pudding and chill the champagne."

"Tell me," she spun around suddenly, "how much you've gained since Christmas. You're looking pretty rotund yourself!"

"I don't know exactly, because I didn't weigh myself on Christmas. But since the middle of December I've gained about eighteen pounds. Now I weigh about 207."

"Jesus! The way you look, I would have guessed 220. Do those huge boobs give you a back ache?"

No one had ever spoken so openly and directly about my bust, but Julia was right. In recent weeks I had had to buy bigger bras twice, and even these were becoming too small for my melon-shaped udders. Actually, I was interested in whether my bust or "waist" had the larger measurement. I decided that before the evening was over I would ask Julia for a tape measure. Come to think of it, I was also interested in Julia's measurements. . .

"The chocolate pudding is ready," said Julia, and took the huge pot off the stove -- it was the pot her mom used to cook noodles. "It holds over a gallon!"

"Won't we be having anything else to eat?"

She puzzled over this for a moment. "Do you think I should make some vanilla pudding too?"

"No, I mean something substantial to eat. Pizza, pasta, chicken, fries. . ."

"I think we have fries in the freezer. They're quick to make."

She took out a three pound bag of fries and threw them all into the oven. "You think that's enough?"

"For me," I answered with a stifled grin. "But what will YOU eat?"

She laughed. "I see that we understand each other."

It became a very fulFILLING evening. We devoured the fries until there wasn't a single one left. Each of us had eaten three pounds of them (we had cooked a second bagful) along with half a jar of ketchup and half a jar of mayonnaise! My belly felt ready to burst.

So that we wouldn't get too dry eating all those salty fries, Julia had opened the champagne. Before we got to the chocolate pudding (our "dessert") the second bottle was half empty. It was such a wonderful, smooth champagne that it tasted like fruitjuice with bubbles. Except that fruitjuice doesn't have 12% alcohol. Anyway, we both drank the stuff just like it was juice, and soon were buzzed. Julia divided the rest of the bottle between our glasses and drained hers in a few gulps. When she stood up to get the pudding, she swayed a bit.

When we had emptied half the enormous bowl, I remembered my idea about the tape measure. "Hey Julia, do you know your measurements? Bust-waist-hips?"

"Naw, haven't measured myself for a long time. Used ta have a 31-23-31 figure or somethin' like that. But THAT is sure gone. Here, le's measure."

She grabbed a tape measure out of a drawer and stripped off her overalls.

"Wait, I forgot somethin'!" she cried, standing there in her T-shirt and panties. She went to the fridge, opened the third bottle of champagne, and took a swig. I emptied my glass with a swallow and felt the bubbles making their way from my mouth to my stomach. I looked at Julia, who was now fully undressed. Wow, she had gotten fat, I thought to myself when I finally saw her naked. Her belly jutted as far in front of her as her butt did in back. I've rarely seen such a plump and well-nourished body! If I hadn't known better, I would have assumed she was nine months pregnant.

"Now, measure!" she ordered me, and poured some more champagne down her throat.

"Hey, you have to stand still or I can't read the numbers," I said, when I had gotten the tape around her body. It was tough to bring the two ends together because she was unsteady on her feet.

"But I AM shtandin' shtill!" she said, slurring her words badly as she swayed from side to side.

"Jule, just a little more champagne and you'll be 'sleeping in the New Year' on the couch."

Her breast measurement was nearly 40 inches. About what I had expected, because her boobs were visibly larger than they used to be. But her fat had mainly accumulated in other places. For example, on her belly -- I had to unroll the tape to 47 inches before it fit around her blubber. Her firm round ass was her pride: not less than 49 inches!

"Pretty damn voluptuous, Jule," I concluded when I had finished my work. "You've certainly been working on your figure, I must say."

She couldn't answer me right away because she was once again guzzling champagne. "No, yer jus' skinny's bean-pole," she finally said. "Now'm gonna measure YOU!"

I stripped out of my clothes and Julia fumblingly tried to wrap the tape measure around my body. We touched a couple of times when she staggered against me, and I felt her wonderful cushion of fat press against mine. After several failed attempts, she had the tape around my boobs and was trying to focus her vision so she could read the number.

"I b'lieve 's 46 1/2," she slurred, and began trying to get the tape around my belly. "Forty. . . no, 44 1/2," she read off. My hips turned out to be 47.

"You see? I'm not at all as fat as you are," I said triumphantly.

"I said that 'lready! Skinny's a bean-pole!" answered Julia, collapsing on the nearest kitchen stool and draining the bottle with a series of long, slow swallows. She wouldn't be conscious much longer, that was for sure, so I quickly suggested to her that we finish the rest of the chocolate pudding. It was obvious, though, that she didn't want much more of it. In fact, she was trying to get up to get a fourth bottle out of the refrigerator. Since she couldn't stand, I had to get it for her. After we finished that bottle, we were both so wasted that I can't even remember how we got into bed (BOTH into HER bed, I might add!)


We were both hungover when we woke up on New Year's Day. Julia swore never again to eat chocolate pudding and drink champagne at the same time. I couldn't even raise my head without difficulty.

We also had a "hangover" where our eating habits were concerned. Julia's mother ordered her to go on a strict diet and I have reason to believe that, at least for a while, she will have to observe it. It certainly can't be expected, though, that she will lose the 81 pounds she has added to her starting weight of 139. (Yes, she weighed herself on New Year's Day and had reached her goal of 220). So she is pretty much finished with basketball, but that doesn't seem to bother her much. And, if I know Julia, she will eventually figure out some way to get around her mom's order to diet.

I certainly won't go on a diet -- eating is far too much fun. And I have a New Year's resolution: to let no one or nothing spoil my appetite!