Chapter 4

It was Thursday evening of the strangest week in my life. In this one week, I'd: been gorged to immobility; dieted in the single-minded pursuit of fitting into an outfit I'd created; been asked out by an internationally famous male model; lusted after a huge-buttocked saleslady in a clothing store, and now I was standing in the kitchen of my parents' house -- gorged again -- furiously cooking a meal for my girlfriend Jess and me.

My minimalist outfit of just a t-shirt over my bra and panties was a necessity -- everything else I owned was just going to be too tight. It was 4:30 in the afternoon and I'd already eaten 3 big meals and my belly felt like it should probably have its own zip code. I hadn't meant to eat so much that day -- in fact, I'd started the day thinking I was going to continue my diet. But it had been a day of revelations, and it seemed that the feasting was both a cause and an effect of suddenly seeing the light. Okay, okay, I'm being a little oblique, but, it had hit me so suddenly, that I'm still having a little trouble with the words. See, I was sitting in the mall restaurant waiting for Jess to come back from the bathroom and the waitress to come with our food. My belly was already full with breakfast and donuts and a half a veal parmigiana hero and a jumbo frozen yogurt. All around me I was hearing and seeing women eating too much, talking about eating too much, trying to eat more than they should. I was thinking about what had been going on with me that
week: the pigging out, the fascination with my growing belly, pleasuring myself while fantasizing about Genice -- the saleslady with the enormous rear.

In my head, I heard Genice saying, "Show me any shape woman and I'll find you a guy who thinks that that is the ideal figure." I heard Jess saying, "Wow! I can't believe how fat you've gotten." And I heard Andy say, "I love watching you eat."

Suddenly, it all made sense! Unconsciously, I'd known it since Sunday, but it was only at that moment that the explanation surfaced into my consciousness. Jess came back from the bathroom and sat down while the server put down our orders of chicken-fried steak platters with sides of onion rings and strawberry milkshakes. I popped a big onion ring in my mouth, tasted the salt and the sweet and felt the wonderful greasiness on my tongue and my lips, and said, "Jess, I figured it out! Andy Sansome wants to get me fat!" She gave me this look as if Iwas some mental hospital escapee. She swallowed a bite of her steak, washed it down with a big gulp of her milkshake, and asked, "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"Well," I said, "when I told you about that afternoon, I left something out of the story -- I wasn't sure why -- I mean, now I think it was because I didn't want to admit to myself that it was fascinating to me but, then I wasn't sure of it, so... Anyway, when Andy came over to me, the first thing he said was that he was looking for me and hoped that I hadn't left. He also brought me this plate, piled high withh food. I didn't think about it then, but if he was looking for me, then he had to have seen me sitting there before -- right next to the food table -- where I'd been stuffing my face and holding a plate on my lap pretty much since I'd walked in. He knew I'd eaten, and he brought me more food anyway!

Then -- this is the part I didn't tell you about -- he said that he was 'entranced' watching me eat. He said, watching me eat, 'There was something about your face... something old-fashioned and vulnerable -- with just a touch of
passion, mystery and sinful enjoyment in your eyes. I couldn't help but watch you.' Then, he brought me this jumbo slab of cake, and when I was done exploring the boundaries of my stomach's expandability, he asked me if I would go to dinner with him on Saturday and left." Jess didn't say anything for a minute, and neither did I. We both just plugged away at our meals, thoughtfully, then, she finished her last onion ring, dabbed her face and asked, "Do you really think
there're people who like fat women? Or who want to make a woman fat?" I told her what Genice had said about there being plenty of guys who like heavy women.

She thought again for a minute, then said, "How do you know Genice?" I told her that I didn't really, but I'd had a close encounter with her in the dressing room. "She's got some huge butt," I said. "Yeah, she sure does," Jess answered with -- I thought -- a strange trace of wistfulnesss in her voice.

There was another silence, interrupted by our simultaneous slurping of the bottom of our milkshakes. The noise was really loud and seemed to break the awkwardness of our conversation. We gossiped for a couple of minutes, then I
said, "You probably have to get back to work. My parents are gone for a couple of days, so why don't you come over for dinner tonight and we can talk some more." She agreed, we paid the waitress and stood up to go.

I felt like someone had attached a huge water balloon around my waist. My belly was swollen and distended and I could feel its contents shifting and sloshing as I walked -- no, waddled -- out of the mall. Getting into the car was a
challenge, but driving -- feeling every bump in the road as it set off ripples in my soft flesh and waves in my gorged stomach -- was exciting. My hand kept finding its way under my dress to caress my bulging tummy and then slipping down into my tight panties to massage my wet pussy; I nearly got myself into a couple of accidents as I fell into minor orgasm after minor orgasm.

When I pulled up to the supermarket, I had to sit in the car for a couple of minutes until I stopped shivering and twitching. I walked into the supermarket with a big smile on my face, and started filling up the shopping cart with chips and salsa and cheese and beer and all the makings for a big Mexican-style dinner. With every step, I could feel my belly bouncing under the skimpy dress and my thighs rubbing together and the warm still-tingling between my legs. I went home feeling full and fat and happy and took a nap, still smiling.


Jess showed up after work at about 6:00. I'd told her to stop home and pick up some things so she could stay over. "You're dressing a little casual this afternoon," she commented, looking at the t-shirt, which was all I was wearing
over my bra and panties. I watched her big ass shimmy while I followed her up the stairs to the spare bedroom. "You might as well get comfortable yourself," I said. "No one's around but me and you -- and that chinos-and-golf-shirt-uniform thing isn't exactly your kind of clothes. In fact, I think what I'm wearing is the uniform for the evening. So, get changed and get downstairs. I gotta check on dinner." She saluted, and I did a military turn and marched out of the room. I could feel her eyes following me as I walked down the steps.

She came down a few minutes later wearing the proper uniform, grabbed a beer and hung out in the kitchen, talking to me while I started the rice and began defrosting the tortillas. The conversation worked around her day at work, my
parents' trip, the menu for the evening, and pretty soon, we were sitting at the table with our beers, munching out on a big basket of chips, salsa and guacamole.

"So," she asked, "you really think that Andy Sansome likes fat women?"

"I'm not sure he likes fat women," I said, "but I know he'd like to fatten a woman. And I plan on obliging him. I'm bingeing -- gonna stretch my belly tonight and tomorrow and then I'm not eating a thing all day Saturday. He said he likes to watch me eat, so -- whether or not he really does want to fatten me up or not -- I'm gonna be starving and he's gonna see me eat like I've never eaten before."

"Did you ever really pig out before? I mean, like you're planning to do?"

"Well," I said, dipping and crunching the chips, "there was this one time when I was away at school that first year -- when I went to Purcell -- and there was this little restaurant on campus -- the Pancake House. They had this special there called The Chocolate Overdose; it was a stack of three chocolate-chocolate chip pancakes, drowned in chocolate syrup, topped with two scoops of chocolate ice cream and served with a large chocolate milkshake. One night around midnight, we were really stoned, so my first roommate -- what was her name -- Sarah -- that's it -- Sarah and I went over and ordered the Overdose. I remember it was so amazing that Sarah and I just sat there in silence and ate and ate, moaning occasionally -- I swear, we both had orgasms. So we go back to the dorm on this crazy pot and chocolate high, smoke a little more, and then, there's a knock on the door: Some of the girls on the hall are going to the Pancake House for an Overdose and do we want to come. We laughed hysterically for a minute, then Sarah said, 'Bet you can't!' I did and she did, bite after nearly-painful bite.

"We practically carried each other back to the room, and rubbed each other's bellies until we fell asleep. She was really sick the next day, but me -- I got my period and it was like the first time in my life that I wasn't bed-ridden with cramps!

"It's a strange memory," I said, "because last week, I probably would've been embarassed talking about it, but this week..." I shook my head and got up to start serving dinner. "How about you?" I asked. "Did you ever pig out like
that?" I put out the bowls for the black bean soup and ladled the sweet, thick concotion into our bowls, topping them with a huge dollop of sour cream.

"This is really good," she said, taking a couple of spoonfuls. "I've pigged out a bunch of times, and I've always been a big eater, but I guess the most I ever ate was also in college. I was pledging that sorority -- remember that? -- Phi Alpha Tau, and they had this hazing when we pledges were almost through the initiation. They took the rec room of the house, covered the floor with gym mats, made racing lanes, and lined up 8 slices of apple pie in each lane. They put all of us pledges in these tiny yellow running shorts and yellow tube tops -- I was a lot thinner then, but still NOT tube-top material! We were all chubs -- most of the other girls were no better than me, and a couple were much fatter than I am even now. " I put the burrito makings on the table as she told her story, and we both started rolling burritos and eating rice.

"So, they dress us up," Jess continued, "then they have us get down on the mats on hands and elbows so we can crawl down the lanes and eat the pie without taking elbows off the mats -- if you did pick up your elbows, they had a
sister following you who smacked you on your nearly-bare butt. It was set up like a race with timers and bets and everything. I was in the second of 3 heats and I watched the first 5 girls getting smacked trying to keep their balance and still pick up the pies with their hands. When it was my turn, I didn't bother with my hands -- I just stuck my whole face in like a dog at a bowl, finished the slices one by one without getting spanked once, and beat the second girl by like a whole minute and a half. I was totally stuffed, and then they told me that I had to compete in a finals round. So, a half hour later, I'm back on the mat, feeling like my belly is so big, it must be dragging on the ground. I finished those six slices, too and came out as the Grand Champion." She put together her third burrito, then continued.

"They let us lie down in our rooms for an hour, then we changed into these tiny yellow thong bikinis. My belly was so huge and round, you could barely see the little triangle of material covering my pussy; meanwhile, every little ripple
of cellulite was exposed on my ass and my nipples were barely covered by the little postage stamp top. So, there we were: 15 girls, ranging from chubby to obese -- most of our flesh exposed -- and doing a forced march to the 6 frat
houses on campus! At each house, we marched in and all the guys lined up and rubbed our bloated bellies, pinched or slapped our flabby butts, stroked our almost-exposed boobs, then at the end of the line, one guy got to feed each of us,
and we had to eat it! They got to make lots of lewd, rude comments because two of the houses had hot dogs, two had bananas, one had ice cream pops. Three girls -- the fattest ones -- quitright away, two threw up after the third house, and the rest of us just kept eating. The last house had eclairs and when it was my turn to eat, the house president squirted the creamy white eclair filling onto my cheek; I stared him in the eye and licked it off, then ate the eclair and said, 'Is that all you've got?' Everyone there applauded, cheering and whistling -- girls and guys -- as he fed me another eclair, then started kissing and licking my swollen belly while I managed to swallow every last bite. I was so turned on I was afraid my knees were going to buckle. We walked back to the house slowly; most of us had to hold up our bellies to keep them from sloshing as we made our way back to our rooms. When I laid down in my bed, my stomach was sticking out so far, that I couldn't see my toes even lying on my back and My arm could barely reach my
incredibly horny pussy.. I don't think I've ever eaten that much since."

"Do you think you ever could eat that much again?," I asked, finishing my fifth overstuffed burrito. Jess was keeping up with me burrito for burrito, feeling some sort of competition -- maybe stemming from her story. I got up to
get us some more beers. "I don't know if I could eat that much again. I was a lot younger. I guess I'd really have to be inspired."

I put the beers down, then stood behind her. "What would inspire you?" I asked and stroked her hair, her cheek, her shoulder; she leaned into me for a second, then, realizing something, she froze up. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," I answered. "What does it feel like?" She still had a burrito in her hand when she turned her head around. "It feels like you're trying to seduce me," she said. "Maybe I am," I answered.