I tried to deny it throughout most of my adolescent life. To me, it was almost like a sickness, a malady that planted itself in the darkest recesses of my mind...I desired fat women. To the reader, this may not seem like much of a problem, but teenagers can be very cruel to anyone who doesn't submit to peer pressure. The common view was that smaller women were the ones who were supposed to get the attention and bigger ones were supposed to be ridiculed, treated as though the fat they carried around also served to insulate their feelings. I fell in line with the mandates of the many, even though my heart was never in it. Every time I saw a huge pair of breasts or an gigantic ass wiggle by, my dick gave it attention even though I pretended that I wasn't aroused. This went on for many years. At the age of twenty, I began asking myself serious questions about the views that I had imposed upon myself. I still pretended that I lusted after smaller women while, secretly, I longed for more breast, more ass, more leg, more stomach. While having sex, I would fantasize that I was feeding the woman I was with: dishing out mounds of chocolate, pastries, pies and other delectable treats. Her body would swell like a great living balloon, expanding underneath me. I would come hard and then open my eyes and see a small remnant of my lust panting underneath me. Ultimately I was left unsatisfied, possessed by the urge to experience my hidden passions. Despite my best efforts to purge it from my mind, the lust never waned. Every time I saw an attractive, shapely fat woman, her body undulating as she walked down the street, it was almost impossible for me to keep from staring. As I entered my early twenties, I began to set aside my complexes and found that there were quite a few incredibly beautiful big women out there. The more I looked, the more my appetites rose to the surface, but the prerequisites of remaining socially correct continued to stifle me. Then I met Geneva Darnell. I stopped in at the local Quik-Mart late one evening to pick up a pack of cigarettes but no one was at the counter. I looked around but still didn't see anyone. I called out and was answered by a muffled voice that came from a storage room behind a snack display. It was all I could do to keep from gawking when she emerged, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. She was about twenty years old, looked like she weighed about 210 pounds and had long, black hair that was held back from her elegant face by a purple scarf. She had breasts like two cantaloupes. Her jeans were fitting her tightly, half a size too small, and her hips strained the seams. She hurried to the cash register and apologized for making me wait. I had caught her in the middle of sneaking a snack, a thought that somehow aroused me. I asked for my brand of smokes and, as she turned to get them, treated myself to the twin bowling balls of her ass, commenting that she probably didn't get many breaks working late at night. She agreed as she set my pack on the counter. I paid her and remarked that she must be new there, since I had been frequenting the store for years. She gave me my change and replied that this was her first night. I wanted desperately to strike up a conversation, but my brain just sputtered and stalled. I thanked her and quickly made my exit. I began building up a stockpile of cigarettes at my apartment because of my nightly visits to see her. It got to the point that, when I entered the store, she'd have my pack waiting for me on the counter. Her beauty magnified each time I saw her. I relished the bright, chestnut color of her eyes, the almond hue of her skin, her pearl white teeth and how they were just slightly off center, the dimples in her cheeks when she smiled and the dimples in her elbows when her arms hung at her side. She was so exquisite that the sight of her quickly melted away all of my remaining insecurities about size. Geneva soon figured out that I was stopping by for more than cigarettes, and our short greetings and good-byes grew into conversations. I discovered that she was lonely. The same voluptuousness that I lusted after had been a bane in her love life. She had been both ridiculed for her obesity and used as if she were nothing more than a fat plaything. She also told me that she'd been dieting for the past six months and had lost over fifty pounds. It had been hard for her but she hoped that by sizing down, she would make herself more desirable and avoid the ridicule that had been heaped on her. Before I could catch myself, I replied that she really shouldn't have gone to all that trouble. She glared at me, as if greatly injured and insulted. I guess she thought I was saying that she'd just been wasting her time. I quickly added that she must have misunderstood me, that I meant it as compliment. I told her that she put her weight in all the right places and that, heavier, she probably had more of what a man like me appreciated. Her anger turned into confusion and finally into a broad, beaming smile. The truth had set me free. She said it was the nicest thing that anybody had ever said to her and then began to blush. I wanted to grab her and kiss her right then and there, to show her the feelings that were pent up inside me, but I merely asked her to let me prove my feelings by taking her out for dinner and dessert. She accepted. Two weeks later, after a few dates, she stood before me in her living room, naked in all her majesty. The images of her body that I had conjured up in my mind for weeks paled to insignificance beside the splendor of her corpulence. Her thick breasts jutted out over a fleshy stomach that rolled inward at the navel. Her small bush of pubic hair rested in the crest of the fleshy mounds of her thighs as they pressed tightly together. Her ass strained under some unseen pressure, forced into two spheres that seemed to want to explode out of the layer of fat that contained them. At first she covered herself shyly, certain that I would be disappointed now that I had seen her naked. I set aside her insecurities along with my own by slowly running my tongue over every inch of her flesh, appreciating every curve. Minutes later, she was sucking my cock so voraciously that my ears started to ring. I eagerly reciprocated by burying my face in the furry pillow that was her pussy. My dick followed where my tongue had been and I was immediately caught up in an animalistic fury, my years of constricted lust finally unleashed upon this wet, burning, fat snatch. I quickly came in a volcanic tide but my cock stayed rock hard. This drove Geneva into her own primitive, sexual frenzy. She threw me onto my back, mounted me, and began savagely pounding my dick with her sopping wet pussy. Her breasts sprang back and forth violently, clapping each time they slammed together. Her stomach was locked in tremors as it swelled with each deep breath. I reached up, pulled her teats to my face, forced her nipples together and sucked them for all I was worth. She let out a loud moan and stepped off the edge into a long and wrenching orgasm. Hours later as we lay beside each other, bathed in pools of sweat, my dick was still nodding its approval as it pulsed above my stomach. Gen moved in with me one month later and I quickly discovered why she had once been so much fatter. She was an excellent cook and loved to eat. Her tastes all leaned toward the fattening side of food: fried chicken, potato chips, peanuts, candy, wine and nothing was so irresistible to her as baked goods. She had denied her appetites for so long that she could scarcely resist the urge to indulge herself. I satisfied her longing for sex at every turn and slowly began to indulge her passion for food. I brought her treats every night after she got off work and many times fed them to her while I was eating her pussy, thereby combining her two lusts. We were both in heaven. It wasn't long before the bliss began to manifest itself on Gen's body. Her great breasts began to swell and bulge out from the harness that strained to hold them in place. The pants that had once fit her snugly were now drumhead tight. The sleeves of her shirts were slowly squeezing themselves against her swelling arms. Luckily, she hadn't thrown away her clothes from when she was bigger because soon they were all she could wear. She complained about her sudden relapse but kept right on eating, knowing that I loved the results. I think she felt obliged to discredit her weight gain, but really didn't want to turn back. We were a perfect match. She wanted to eat every tasty thing that she could get her lips on, and I wanted her to do it. After we'd been going out for a few months, Gen took me to meet her mother. She had said very little about her family up to that time. She was an only child and her father was deceased. Her mother owned some sort of business in town and Gen had once worked for her. I assumed that they must have had a falling out and that she didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't pry. When we drove up to the storefront of her mother's business, though, I realized that there was much more to the story than I had imagined. Her mother was Edith of Edith's Sweets and Treats, the largest bakery in town. She was 5'6" tall, very pretty, about forty years old and looked like she'd put on about ten pounds for every year of her life. When she noticed her daughter and me, Ms. Darnell waddled across the bakery as quickly as her mass would allow. She waved hello as the hams that were her arms echoed her gesture. Her cheeks swelled up as she smiled, and her chins quivered as she greeted us. Gen hugged her but could barely get her arms around her mother's enormous trunk. Her breasts were watermelons that seemed to move with a life of their own, supported by the expanse of her belly. She greeted me with a mother's skepticism, offering me her pudgy hand, but promptly turned her attention to her daughter. She patted Gen on the stomach and said that it looked like she'd gained most of her weight back. Her tone was more pleased than concerned. Gen quickly blamed it on me saying that it was all my fault. Her mother gave me a nod and said that it was good that she'd found a man who knew how to appreciate the finer aspects of a bigger woman. She invited us to the back and said that we needed to get acquainted. We talked for almost an hour. Edith and I got along wonderfully. She asked Gen how her job was going at the Quik-Mart and she replied that it was tolerable, but that the hours were screwed up and that her boss was an asshole. Her mother laughed and said that she'd love to have her come back to work at the bakery. Gen blushed said that she didn't think she could do it but that she appreciated the offer. The wheels started turning in my head...what a perfect situation! Around all those sweets, she'd have no choice but to swell to new proportions. I imagined what her body would look like at her mother's size, or even larger. Edith must have been reading my mind because, as we were leaving, she handed me a four layer chocolate fudge cake and told me to make sure that her daughter enjoyed it. She gave me an almost sinister smile as I replied that I most certainly would. That evening, I was sitting beside Gen at the kitchen table and feeding her like she was a baby. No child on the planet, however, could have consumed the amount of food that she was eating. We had been at it for over an hour and I was starting to wonder how much more she could take. She was so bloated that she almost looked pregnant. She was leaning back in the chair, legs outstretched, arms hung at her side and had a look of pure ecstasy on her face. I kept sending the forkfuls to her mouth and she kept swallowing them. As I watched her chew, I thought of how quickly she'd succumbed to her true appetite. Such was the power of her mother's cake. She had gone from controlling her hunger to reckless surrender within a few minutes after the first bites. It was easy to see why she'd quit the bakery and equally evident that I had to get her back to work there as soon as possible. After she finished the last of the cake she had to go and take a nap. When she woke up, I quickly brought up the bakery job. Gen basically feared that if she went back there with her newly unchained appetite, her mom would turn her into an absolute blimp. I knew that this would be the case and set about convincing her that a blimp was exactly what I wanted. Two days later, Geneva was wearing her baker's apron again. Since the main reason for her quitting was less of an issue, the job no longer loomed over her like an obese specter. Gen's imagined concerns that her mother would try to fatten her up became an instant reality. It seemed like Edith sensed her daughter's weakened resistance to her voracious appetite and attacked it ferociously. She sat so many wonderful treats in front of Gen that there was no time for her to worry about getting fatter. She surrounded her with rows and rows of delectable goodies and quickly sapped the last of Geneva's will power. Her appetite, which had been suppressed and denied for years, came forth with a mighty vengeance. Gen began indulging herself with reckless abandon. The clothes that had fit her at her previous high of 250 pounds quickly became tight and then unwearable. A new wardrobe had to be bought to fit the new body. She seemed to be visibly gaining weight almost every day, a thought which drove me into sexual frenzies. Her breasts were headed outward and downward and began to battle her stomach for supremacy. Her bloating belly was so swollen that it tried to push the great mams to either side, but her tits were so huge and thick that they refused to budge. I watched as her ever expanding canopy of belly fat slowly began to shroud her pussy. Her ass was becoming two chunky mounds that supported the rolling mass of her back. When she sat down, her trunk like thighs would force the bulk of her stomach upward, which would lift her swelling breasts into a fleshy shelf. Every time that shelf appeared, my dick got hard. She kept on growing unashamedly. A few times she voiced concerns about her amazing weight gain but I knew where her heart really was. She no longer had to suppress her appetites whether they be for food or sex or good companionship. I told her that I intended to satiate all three of these appetites until she burst with happiness. Meanwhile I would satisfy my own appetites by watching her burst at the seams. Of course, the same obesity that was giving the two of us such joy, also brought criticism from our supposed friends. My buddies were wondering what I was doing going out with "the incredible inflating woman" and I told them that if they tried it for themselves, they might not ask such silly questions. Gen's friends also criticized her for her sudden weight gain, saying that she was heavier than she'd ever been. She merely retorted that she was also happier than she'd ever been and that if they were really her friends, they'd be happy for her instead of telling her how to live her life. I can't say that her corpulence didn't present a few problems. It was, for instance, becoming much harder to find clothes that fit her properly. The massive bra's that supported her melons had to be custom ordered along with the gigantic pantyhose that enshrouded the pillars of her legs. We bought almost all of her clothes out of a catalogue or a plus size store, and they were far from cheap, especially when most of the items had to be replaced within a few months because she'd outgrown them. None of these problems mattered. Edith was very generous when it came to financing Gen's growth, making sure that she always had a nice clothes to show off her expanding beauty. I guess that it made her proud to have her only daughter following in her fat footsteps. Anyway, with support coming from both her mother and me, Gen's body was swelling up faster than I would have ever dreamed. After we'd dated for about a year, we got married. Gen had just crested the 300 pound mark and I couldn't fathom losing this corpulent Venus who had inspired me in so many ways. As a wedding present, her mother gave her a partnership in the bakery business and the name of the place was changed to Edith and Gen's House of Treats. Gen quickly took to her job with a newfound vigor. Within one month of our honeymoon, the 300 mark was but a distant memory. Gen's life became absolutely centered on three activities: fucking, eating and working. The more we fucked, the bigger her appetite got, an appetite was being fully indulged at her job. The more she indulged herself, the fatter she got, which made me want to fuck her that much more. It was a beautiful cycle. Her weight leveled out at about 350 pounds after about six months or so. It seemed like no matter how much she ate, she didn't put on any more weight. I offhandedly asked her mother about it one day when Gen was out making a delivery. Edith gave me a blank stare and then let out a great bellowing laugh. After a few minutes, she regained her composure and commented that I really and truly was a lover of fat women. She had laughed because the look on my face was one of true concern...she could tell that I was starting to worry that Gen might not get any fatter. She told me to be patient and not to worry. She said that all women who attain extreme obesity go through a "phase" where there body prepares itself for the immense poundage. She added that, after that time has passed, a woman can put on weight like never before because her metabolism slows down so much. By her estimates Gen only had a couple of weeks left before her time came. I was almost embarrassed by her mother's candor until she added that she was glad that I wanted her daughter to get fatter. She had hoped that Gen would find someone who loved her for her true self. She added that the Darnell family had a long history of big women, and she was glad that her daughter was carrying on the tradition. Gen's great-grandmother had been a fatty of the thighes magnitude. When she was just a little older than Gen, she had almost crested the half-ton barrier. She would have held a world record, but because they lived out in the country, her weight was never officially verified. After she got married, she slimmed down to a svelt 650 pounds and stayed there until her death at age 72. The Darnell women certainly knew how to hold their fat. Gen had never told me this and I was puzzled. Edith told me not to fret, that Gen was still coming to terms with her inherited appetite and that she wasn't telling me some things because she didn't want to scare me off. Not every man would like the idea of his wife possibly weighing almost half a ton. She told me to just keep reminding Gen how much I loved her and that everything else would take care of itself. Three short weeks later, Edith was being proved right. Of course, she was helping to insure her prediction by making sure that her daughter ate something at every available opportunity. As soon as Gen got through waiting on a customer or taking something out of the oven, Edith made sure that Gen started stuffing herself. She even convinced Gen to make continual quality checks on the wares. Overseen by her mother, day after day, more of them were required. It soon got to the point where Gen sampled almost every batch that came out of the oven and continually monitored the freshness of the items in the display case. Under this continual deluge of food, her body had no choice but to start storing away the pounds again. Gen reached the 400 pound mark by our first anniversary and had put every ounce where I'd hoped it would go. The hams that surrounded her biceps had swollen to the point that they were forcing her arms out from her sides and they wiggled with every step she took. Even her hands were rounding out, and her fingers began to look like little, pudgy sausages. Interestingly enough, she was putting her weight in different places than her mother had. Where quite a bit of her mother's weight had gone to her stomach and calves, Gen's was spreading itself mostly between her tits, stomach, ass and thighs. I considered it a genetic improvement. When she sat down, her butt protruded past the base of her back almost a foot. Her tits and stomach, as they sat on her great rolls of leg fat, reached halfway to her knees. When she was standing, it became increasingly apparent that gravity was trying to pull her gargantuan mams earthward along with her elephantine belly, but her body was fighting back by growing outward to support her newfound bulk. As a result, her tits and stomach stuck out so far that, as she ambled along, she had to pull her arms back for a counterbalance, which made her look even fatter. Despite the increasing burdens of her obesity, Gen was ecstatic. She seemed to relish her newfound body almost as much as I did. As Gen's body grew, so did her appetite. In the morning, she started her day off by consuming a breakfast that was big enough to choke an ox. As soon as she walked through the doors at work, her mother would get give her something to snack on. She would eat at a steady pace until about an hour or so before lunch. Then, she would stuff herself with a bunch of brownies or doughnuts so that her stomach would be well stretched out for the daily glutting at the all-you-can-eat buffet bar down the street. She and her mother went there every day and worked that bar like tag team wrestlers. The only saving grace for the establishment was that they only took an hour off for lunch. Still, in sixty minutes, they would pile up enough plates to keep the dishwasher busy for hours...or at least Gen would. As soon as she waddled back into the bakery, Gen would grab something for desert. The rest of her afternoon would be spent sampling the bakery's goods. Even though she ate constantly during the day, when dinner time came she was still hungry. Since she was always eating, mealtimes became little more than peaks in her gluttony. I watched her, on many occasions, eat two large deluxe pizza's without blinking an eye and then ask for dessert. A bucket of fried chicken with all the trimmings was barely a challenge. She finished with dinner at about seven and would spend the rest of the night indulging on plenty of snacks. With my subtle assistance, Gen would usually eat a pie, half a cake, a few large bowls of ice cream, a bag of chips, a jar of peanuts and so on, obliviously entranced by her favorite television show. I just put food in front of her and she shoveled it down, half unaware of how much she was eating. She'd wash it all down with a bottle of wine or a couple of milkshakes, stagger her way to our king-size bed and, after we'd had a good long fuck, would fall asleep and process the days food into pounds of fat. Gen weighed about 480 pounds when she and her mother announced that they were going away for two weeks to attend a baker's convention. They invited me to accompany them but I insisted that they would have a better time if it was just a mother-daughter vacation. Before they left, Edith cryptically added that I would most likely join them before the trip was over. I asked her what she meant and she just told me to wait and see. I kept myself busy with work and Gen and I talked every few days on the phone. She told me that she and her mother were having a wonderful time and that she was getting to sample wares from all over the country. Most of our conversations centered around what she was eating: French pastries, English tarts, sweetbreads, pies and cakes of every kind. She sounded like she was in heaven. I imagined her waddling from booth to booth, stuffing her face, and putting on pounds in the process. The day before she was supposed to return, she called to tell me that they had decided to stay a few more days to take in the sights and to visit a few of the restaurants in the region. There was a strange tone in her voice and I asked her if everything was alright. She avoided the question for a few minutes and then told me what was on her mind. She said that, since their arrival it seemed that her mother had tried to get her to eat everything in sight. It went without saying that she had been successful. My dick got hard at the thought of what it had done to her but I simply asked her how she felt about it. Gen remarked that she had always wanted to eat without worrying about the consequences but had never considered how addicting it could truly be. She thought that she should feel guilty or worried but all she could do was enjoy herself. She knew that her mother was cultivating her appetite and that she seemed almost hell-bent on getting her as fat as humanly possible, but for some reason, it didn't bother her anymore. She credited her newfound, unconditional acceptance to the fact that she was too fat to worry about it anymore. I told her that she should never have worried in the first place, reaffirming that she could never get too fat for me. She sighed, giggled, and said that she'd hoped I would feel that way, since she had something very important to tell me. What followed boggled my imagination. She told me the complete story about her great-grandmother Pearl Hancock, and how she had been part of a strange rivalry that dated back over a century. At Gen's age, Pearl weighed over 500 pounds and was an object of attention in her home town. In those days, being so fat wasn't looked upon with the same critical eye and there were more than a few men who gave her attention. In that town, however, there also lived a woman named Bella Hobson, a woman every bit as fat as Pearl. Bella constantly taunted her, saying that, despite her size, no woman could match her appetite. Eventually, their rivalry took on a strange manifestation: they began having eating duels. When a challenge was made, the would meet at a local greasy spoon in town and gorge themselves, plate for plate, until one of them surrendered, too bloated to eat another bite. Legend had it that some of their duels would last whole days. Sometimes Pearl won, sometimes Bella won. There contests became the object of many local wagers and lots of dollars changed hands as the two packed on the pounds. Their rivalry went unchecked until Ezra Maitland entered the picture. For many long months, he courted the two of them, an obvious lover of the fattest of women. His divided affections fueled the animosity between them until it reached a fever pitch. They began battling it out almost every week. As the two of them got fatter, so did the bets. Ezra was torn by his affections for the two of them and knew that he would ultimately have to decide between them. His decision was delayed because of the fact that, the longer he waited, the fatter they got, which mad it even harder for him to choose. They were matching each other pound for pound and there was no end in sight. So one day, Ezra got the two together and told them that he'd reached a decision. Because he loved them both equally, the only way he knew how to choose between them was for them to end their rivalry in one last duel. He was going to leave town for a fortnight and, when he returned, the one who weighed the most would become his wife. At the time, Pearl weighed about ten pounds more than Bella so, with the head start, she felt sure she would be the victor. During those two weeks, the women locked themselves up inside their houses and ate around the clock. More money than ever was bet on this last duel. The two were constantly sending spies to check on each other's progress, trying to get the edge that would ensure their victory. Pearl kept getting reports that Bella was ahead of her, but she couldn't believe it since she was eating every fattening food she could get down her throat. On the fourteenth day, Ezra met the two of them at a local farmer's house so they could weigh themselves on a cattle scale. When Bella arrived, Pearl was so astonished that she almost fainted. She knew immediately that she'd been beaten. Bella was so fat that she had to have help from Ezra just to walk over to the scale. Pearl later found out that she had been stuffing herself with nothing but butter and lard the whole time. When the tally was taken, Pearl weighed 680 pounds to Bella's 720. The rivalry ended and Bella was happily married. Pearl, bitter from her defeat, consoled herself with food. Some say she did it just to make Ezra sorry that he'd chosen the lesser woman since Bella was no longer gaining any weight. If she couldn't have Ezra, she was going to have victory of another sort. She was at her peak weight of 950 pounds when she met David Darnell and married him. He was a baker travelling through town and was captivated by Pearl's awseome size and beauty. Pearl lived happily thereafter and gradually slimmed down for good. The relevance of this story became clear when Gen told me about how, at the convention, she and her mother ran into a decendant of Bella's - Rose Maitland of the East coast conglomerate, Maitland's Restaurants. She was Gen's age, every bit as cantankerous as her great-grandmother, and every bit as fat as Gen. The introduction was polite, but soon after Edith told her who they were, Rose began gloating about how legendary Bella's defeat was over Pearl. She told of how Pearl had to leave town because she'd betrayed so many people in her community who had wagered on the battle. Pearl had been so confident that she'd win that she convinced many of her friends to bet large sums on her. Losing Ezra also meant losing a lot of friends. Rose said that Pearl, whom she called a "bitter old cow" nearly ate herself to death before that "ugly" Darnell boy came along. She said that Pearl had caught the first thing smoking and got out of town as fast as her fat ass could. It was a story that the Maitland's retold with undiminished pride and mocking laughter. The end result was that Edith got Gen to challenge Rose a duel to recapture the family honor. They were to meet at a neutral location, a rib and barbeque spot in South Carolina, and eat until one of them admitted defeat. She said that Pearl could put it away every bit as good as her and that she was worried that she might not be able to take her. Gen was calling because she wanted me to be there for support. She told me when and where the contest would be and I promised that I'd be there. I was packing when Edith called me, saying that she'd told me that I'd join them before the trip was over. It was obvious that she'd set it all up and had been grooming Gen for the occasion. She asked me if I was bothered at what she'd done. I answered that anything that fattened my Geneva up was alright with me. As I was driving to the restaurant where the duel would be held, I thought of how Edith never relented in fattening up Geneva. In addition to preserving a family tradition, she was stuffing Gen because she knew that, the fatter she got, the more she was tied to the bakery and subsequently, to her mother. There was also nothing that gave Edith more pleasure than seeing someone enjoying her wares, and her daughter was definitely giving her all the joy she could muster. Every pound that Gen gained also served as a testament to her mother's mastery. Their relationship had grown into a truly joyful partnership.
By the Studio...