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Old 02-08-2013, 05:46 PM   #1
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: Los Angeles, CA
Posts: 21
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Default EIGHTY by FatManRocks (SSBHM, ~FFA, Romance, ~Sex, XWG)

SSBHM, ~FFA, Romance, ~Sex, XWG - Episodes in a couple’s very fat life.

by FatManRocks

Chapter One - A Glutton Awakes

Daniel licked Alfredo sauce from his fingers as he reached out for his first piece of cake. It was supper, his fourth meal of the day after breakfast, brunch, and lunch. Supper started every day around 4:30, after his 4:20 toke had time to fire up his appetite.

He smiled to himself as he thought about those numbers – 420, 430 – because they always made him think about those weights - 420 - and what it was like to hit those weights - 430, 440...all those numbers ago...450--

He laughed to himself as he settled the cake on his spreading belly. God, he used to think they were so huge, those numbers. He remembered being in college, still conflicted about his desires, hitting 275 and having his head flood with a riot of emotions.

Daniel’s brain spent most days, in fact, trying to sort through those emotions: the excitement of getting fatter; the anxiety of the social stigma; the joy in having gotten so big and jiggly; the fear of health problems; the alternating shame and exhilaration of stepping outside the norm. There was a lot about this fat obsession that worried him - but the things that thrilled him were stronger. Stronger, deeper, and more immense.

“I’m too thin,” he’d think. “That’s the problem. This is clearly important to me, and I haven’t let myself appreciate it. If I want to find out what this is about, I need to accept it, allow it, even embrace it. Maybe then I’ll be satisfied, and I can finally let go of all this fat stuff and be normal.”

He could feel the logic straining, could hear the structural beams of his argument groaning under the weight of his vision, but the solution seemed so clear. “If I weighed 300 pounds, then I’d REALLY be fat, and then I’d know for sure.”

Somehow those twenty-five pounds would change him; they would make him a Real Fatso. And once there he could take a look around, enjoy the scenery, get it all out of his system, and he could be thin or whatever. It just felt right. 300. It also felt awesome. So he ate and ate with a mission and a smile. His belly would stretch with double breakfasts, stay full as he capped it off with snacks throughout the day, then really get glutted before bed.

People remarked that he seemed happier; they’d ask if that was a new haircut, or tell him that color really suits him, sometimes even ask if he’d lost weight! Something about him looked great to them (even if their brains refused to process the reality of his growing body), and he had to admit he felt great. He actually felt calmer. He wasn’t even thinking about the scale as 300 came and went; next time he checked his weight he was 310 pounds.

“I did it,” he said as he stared at himself in the mirror. “Wow, I’m fat.”

He stroked his love handles, found the start of his belly crease and followed it around front as it deepened under his thick hang of fat. “Okay, you’re here. You’re fat. Satisfied?”

But Daniel was pretty tall, and not even the extra 10 pounds beyond his goal had made him feel all that much bigger.

“Satisfied,” he thought as he hefted his belly, “Well sure, I mean... I’m pretty fat.”

He stared some more, satisfaction waning. Yeah, he was kinda fat. But he wasn’t really FAT fat.

That was a feeling he would come to know well as the years passed: not really FAT fat. He knew it well because it would return over and over as he grew from one milestone weight to another. That internal negotiation would fire itself back up every time, though deep down Daniel knew that whatever part of him kept talking about leaving fatness behind was simply never going to win out.

There was still a trace of earnestness when he agreed to let himself get to 325 and by the time he’d hit it, 350 already felt like a done deal. Once at 350, he thought about another twenty-five pounds, and it seemed like nothing at all; he didn’t seriously believe he would stop at 375 anyway. And when he contemplated 400 pounds, staring at his grand flabby stomach, he didn’t think twice. Keep gaining to 400? Absolutely.

Then that day came, as it always did, when Daniel’s goal became reality and his new biggest number stared back at him from the scale. Four hundred pounds; the number actually gave him pause. Now this was a weight. He looked himself over in his new, wide, full-length mirror; every inch. He could feel his perceptions shift, his image of his own body adjust.

Four hundred had always been such a fantasy weight. Years ago his favorite weight gain stories usually ended with a guy hitting 400, all of his fat dreams fulfilled. 400 sounded so vast back then; any more weight was just way too obese to realistically contemplate. Four hundred pounds was most definitely FAT fat. So now here he was. 400 pounds - actually 403 - and he loved it. Undeniably fat, and looking for more. He felt the sides of his belly, soft and deep, his love handles wobbling, his belly hanging in a light sway.

It wouldn’t be long before he was so fat he outweighed the biggest fantasies of his youth. He chuckled, and his belly bounced. He looked at himself and smiled, as if recognizing an old friend. “

Hey, fat man,” he said warmly. The whatever-it-was that kept telling him fat was a phase was finally, totally gone. Died starved for attention. He felt the last of his inhibitions disappear like a lifting fog. His body felt more comfortable than ever, more like a home than he ever thought possible. Deep inside his belly something opened, like a channel from himself to the world.

And a hunger arose, a great, gluttonous hunger. Here he was, heart and soul, body and spirit; flesh and fat – abundant, glorious fat; and here was his hunger. His belly beamed happily back at him, full of love, desire, and appetite.

“Wow,” he thought. “Let’s eat!”

He was ravenous. On a good feed he could eat steadily for thirty or forty minutes before he needed a breather. He once binged non-stop for an hour and a half, completely incapacitating himself in the process. Took him another hour to move, and he was off food for the rest of the day - except for the glass of cold heavy cream he insisted on himself before bed. But that was before today; today Daniel took his foot off the brakes.

Today an hour of eating was the bare minimum required; he wanted to eat all afternoon long. Start at a pub for an appetizer platter, maybe a burger, nachos, have a few beers to relax and open things up, head to a buffet and settle in for a few full courses and some soft serve, then hit a Cheesecake Factory for a real dessert course, hot coffee, maybe a new appetizer.

Man, he loved appetizers. Then grab a shake from Coldstone or Baskin Robbins (or both), and roll on home. This was going to be good. He lumbered to his closet, throwing in a few steps of full waddle for a cheap thrill, then got into his loosest knockaround pants and pulled on a roomy shirt. He grabbed a short-sleeve Hawaiian print to add a little color, and left it unbuttoned to stay casual-cool; also because it wouldn’t button. Then he grabbed his keys and strutted and swayed toward the door, humming brightly.

“Little did I know,” Daniel thought to himself as he finished the last bite of cake. He set the empty plate on top of the other empty plates on the cart next to him, then sat back and sucked on a milkshake as he contemplated what to eat next. “Little did I know what that day would bring.”

His free hand roamed the soft rolls and bulges of his immense belly as he thought about his wife Julianne. Julianne who adored that belly; Julianne whom he met on that same miraculous day. My angel at the buffet, he had joked to her; and she had been flattered. Every day since just felt like another miracle.

Daniel finished the milkshake with a sudden slurp. He focused again on the cart beside him, still loaded with food.

“What a spread,” he thought, “She really knows how to pile it on.”

He smiled, then reached out for a chicken pot pie.

(Continued in post 4 of this thread)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 02-26-2013 at 07:51 PM.
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Old 02-11-2013, 09:32 AM   #2
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agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!agouderia keeps pushing the rep limit!

Welcome to the boards!

Looks like a promising start as a BHM writer - will wait for the next installments, and hope to read 'The End' sometime ... (The latter can be tricky, I know from experience, but it's so much more rewarding for the audience - and yourself as a writer).

Good luck with writing more!
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Old 02-11-2013, 02:04 PM   #3
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Thanks! That's awfully nice of you. I've really enjoyed your stories, and I appreciate the encouragement. More to come!
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Old 02-13-2013, 02:10 PM   #4
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Chapter Two - Her King-Sized Desires

Julianne had never had a problem with it before. In fact, it was years before she had any inkling that it was something that one was supposed to have a problem with at all. She remembered coming out accidentally to her sister Aggie when she was thirteen - accidental because Julianne wasn’t even aware she harbored any particular kink. She kind of discovered it in public, right there on the living room couch with her sister. The TV was on, though neither one was paying much attention – Julianne was reading Popular Science and Aggie was inspecting her hair. Then a show started up, and a big handsome actor appeared. Julianne glanced up at him, and her eyes sparkled.

“Wow. He’s cute.”

Aggie looked up at the screen, then turned and sneered. “Ew. Seriously? He’s totally fat.”

He is? Julianne looked back at the TV. Huh; how about that. He is.

“It’s one of those fat guy/hot wife sitcoms. Some fat gross old TV executive’s big boob mother fantasy.”

“But that girl’s got no tits.” She didn’t, either: the actress was a bony little reed. No matter; the couple onscreen kissed happily.

“Ugh, can they even show that? Lose some weight, lard ass!” With that, Aggie flounced out of the room.

Julianne turned back to the TV, and the hot guy with the skinny wife. Seemed perfectly reasonable to her. Man, her sister was screwy.

Years later and there she sat, alone in her car in the buffet parking lot. That ease and confidence in herself and her desires was gone. Her arms were crossed, and she looked stubborn over something; her face, staring straight ahead at the front doors to the restaurant, had drooped in the time she had been there, and had succumbed into a scowl. She was measuring up the patrons as they came and went. A few were skinny, most had some padding - especially the parents, herding kids. There were even a couple of really fat people. One teenager around 350 pounds grabbed her attention, and kept it; she watched him lumber in, and spotted him every now and then through the window. But none of it was cheering her up.

A car honked; she looked up to the rear view. Some guy was anxious for her spot. She shook her head and waved him on. Then she noticed her reflection, and her frowning grimace of a face. She looked like an old witch. “Good lord.” Julianne shook her head then stretched open her mouth and face to rid herself of the gloom. She cracked opened her window and the fresh air felt good. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and groaned. “Ohhhh, crap.” Scoping out fat guys again. She felt like a pervert. Again. “I should buy a trenchcoat.” She closed the window and got out of the car. The air was brisk; she gave a shiver, then wrapped her coat around herself and headed into the buffet.

The fat teenager was more than just awkward. He seemed to want no connection to his body at all. The whole time Julianne had been watching him, picking at her plate of salad and ribs, he sat basically motionless. He ate his food carefully, without any expression of appetite or satisfaction, moving only his right arm, lifting fork from plate to mouth. Sometimes his left hand would help, cupping itself underneath a dripping morsel or an unstable pea, but mostly it stayed out of the way. He kept in the conversation, but his whole body was tense, as if he’d found the best position to fit at the table and then held it, terrified some fat part of him might stick out too far and touch somebody. Poor kid, Julianne thought. All she wanted to do was rub his shoulders and tell him it’s okay.

There was a time when she might have; at the very least she would have found a way to tell him he looked nice in that shirt - something. The kid was starving for a kind word. Lately, though, she’d been feeling a little too much like a pervert to do anything but stare from a distance. Which, of course, only helped to make her an actual kind of pervert. She felt a chill. Is ‘pervert’ really necessary? I’m just sitting here, she thought. She shivered and sipped at her tea. She hadn’t always felt so weird about liking fat guys - in fact it’s only been the last couple of weeks that she started haunting buffets. Haunting? I’m not a ghoul, she thought, I’m just having lunch. Liking fat guys used to make sense. Fat guys made her happy, and the fact that fat guys made her happy made the fat guys happy, and it always made her so so happy to see a happy fat guy. Everyone was fucking happy. It was certainly better than feeling like the freak that she felt like today.

A white cloud caught her eye; she looked toward the front of the restaurant, and saw someone new. Someone really big. Him, she called him. Look at him. He had just walked in, and greeted the hostess with a warm smile. He was tall and very fat. The white cloud that caught her eye was his belly-stretched shirt, and it bounced and bounced as he ambled after the hostess to his table. It had to be a 5x, and he was filling it beautifully. His pants had a loose fit and an elastic waist; she bet they were the knockarounds she’d seen on the big and tall sites. God, did she really lurk on fat men’s clothing sites? Shut up; look at him. The man was gorgeous. His belly hung below his shirt; she could see its wobbling outline in the front of his pants--

Her teacup slipped from her hand and landed in a splash of green tea and rib sauce. She was splattered across her sweater, and cursed loud enough to bring a hush over the neighboring diners. She dove for the bathroom. Inside, she pulled off the sweater and cleaned herself up. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face dripping wet. She was shivering again. “This is Theo’s fault,” she said aloud as she wiped her face dry. She’d never second-guessed a thing, as her fat affection grew into fat admiration and then into fat lust, she just rode the big wonderful waves. The guys were all happy to have her, even when her feeder side started to show, even when the numbers, the weights and measures, started to fascinate her. She never met a guy who said he wanted to gain weight, but she never met a guy who really objected, either. Well, she thought she hadn’t, anyway. Since Theo, she now second-guesses everything. She wadded up the towel and tossed it. “God damn it, Theo...”

She opened the bathroom door, stepped into the narrow corridor, and stopped. Had to stop; she was blocked. It was him, him in all his glory, filling the corridor as he headed for the men’s room. “Oh--,” was all Julianne could manage before she stepped back into the ladies’ room to let him pass.

“Thanks,” he smiled at her, and tried to make eye contact. Julianne was skittish, though, and the moment too quick, too easily made awkward; so he carried on his way. Julianne watched as if in a dream. She watched every step and ripple. The fat man passed like a great sailing ship, his belly a huge curved spinnaker billowing out before him. Here was obesity. God, she wanted to grab it and lick it, run her fingers over those rolls, fill that belly, feed that man. He disappeared into the men’s room, and she wanted to follow him, take off that shirt, open those pants, grab and grab that belly fat.

Someone needed the ladies’ room, and Julianne stepped aside. The door swung closed, the corridor was empty, and Julianne was cold again. She hunched herself over the bundled sweater in her arms, and headed back to her table. “At least he’s not fifteen,” she muttered. “That is a full-grown man.”
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Old 02-13-2013, 02:23 PM   #5
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Chapter Three - The Fat Man Strut

Daniel smiled as he washed his hands. “That was cute,” he thought to himself. He grabbed a towel and looked in the mirror. “She was cute.” He brushed some crumbs off his belly, remnants of the meals that had started his day. He was still buzzing from the excitement of the morning’s weigh-in. Facing his fat future head-on had really inspired him and charged his appetite at the first restaurants he’d gone to, but that burst of gluttony had him feeling sated sooner than he’d planned. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take fullest advantage of the buffet, and for a moment considered returning another day lest he fail to live up to some enormous, feasting ideal of fat manliness; but that didn’t seem right. How better to express his gluttonous love of life than by eating at a massive buffet? Who cares how much he might or might not eat in a sitting, as long as he was eating? More than that - as long as he was striving every day to eat all that his growing belly wanted? He envisioned his fat life, stretching out years before him. Years filled with food, his belly grown fatter and fatter, eating just as he pleased. Yeah, today he sure felt inspired. He wondered if there was an obese muse.

Daniel stepped into the corridor and looked at the ladies’ room door. “She really was cute,” he smiled as he remembered the look in her eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was interested, but she certainly had found him distracting.

Julianne wandered through the buffet, looking for something good and fatty, fried chicken and mayo, sausage and cheese casserole - she’d eat like this whenever she was feeling cold. It calmed her down. It had also plumped her up, she’d noted. She found herself chilled more and more lately, and craving heavier and heavier foods. As a result, she had taken to wearing sweatpants full-time. “It’s just a couple of pounds,” she thought as she sat back down at her table. “Nothing to write NAAFA about.” She pulled on her coat, shivering as she nestled into it, and dug into the casserole.

“Wow; that’s really good,” she mumbled through food-stuffed cheeks. Then she heard the floor creak; the great fat yacht sailed back in, banking directly for the food. Julianne put down her fork. She didn’t want to miss one jiggling inch of this. The fat man moved slowly, graceful but for a tiny little waddle at the start of each step. It made him look a little full. He grabbed a plate and set to work loading it up. Could he really be a little full? She wondered. Wow; who comes to a buffet already full?

Daniel’s plate was respectably covered with food. There was still room to pile on top, but he decided it was better to start slow. As he bit into a chicken wing and considered maybe one thing more, he noticed her - he thought it was her - staring at him. He was sure it was her; she had put on a coat, darker than her t-shirt, but it was her - and she was definitely more than just distracted this time. Her stare was intense, and as he moved and jiggled he felt it sharpen, scratching like fingernails across his sloping love handles. Excitement rushed him, and stoked his hunger; he finished his chicken wing and reached out for some dumplings. He remembered telling himself something about eating slow or something, but this woman’s fixed interest in his fat was rendering all but his most gluttonous impulses moot. He filled his plate to heavy, and headed for his table. As he crossed the room he could tell he was still the center of her attention, and he was loving it. He relaxed his walk and let that little waddle bloom, then relaxed his stomach and let his swagging belly sway. A drop of sauce on his thumb caught his eye, and he licked it off as he passed her.

Julianne nearly swooned at the sight of this gorgeous, wobbling fatso. “God, he just eats,” she thought as he settled at his table. His pants pinched and pulled as he spread his legs to give himself belly room, and Julianne wondered if he had anyone in his life to shop with him for the next size up. She dreamed of breakfasts in bed, browsing through the fat clothing sites on her laptop, him lying next to her eating cinnamon rolls and butter as she counted the ‘X’es on camp shirts and elastic waist pants. She watched as he sized up his buffet haul, then with a quick glint of his fork started in with greedy satisfaction. The restaurant’s inadequate paper napkin bunched up uselessly in his collar, and she imagined tucking a real napkin under his double chin, smoothing the big white linen across his soft belly. Man eats like that deserves a proper napkin. Eyeing his middle, she saw that his pants weren’t the only things stretching toward obsolescence: his shirt had started to ride up and lift away from his belly, nudged forward by the fat rolling over his elastic waistband. Were his pants a 5x? 6x? She wished she knew – his lower belly stretched them so much she could see the whites of his pockets. Her eyes roamed over his body; she stared at his Hawaiian shirt. It was a lot of material, but she didn’t think it looked big enough to close around his stomach - it wasn’t even long enough to cover his love handles. Did he know that, or was he in denial about it? Had he gained too fast to keep up his wardrobe, still insisting that he could wear a favorite shirt? Or had he just thrown it on for a little color, fully aware that he’d long outgrown it? She hoped it was that last one. Suddenly he shifted in the chair, leaned back and took a deep breath. A little pause for air. He sucked his teeth and spun the now half-empty plate around so the full side was facing him, then dove back in. “Oh,” Julianne moaned softly. She opened her coat as she watched him. “So nice,” she felt warmer; relaxing. “Just eats and eats.”

Daniel had tried a couple of times to catch her eye, but her stare was locked in on his blubber. He thought tucking his napkin into his collar was a smart idea - get her to look up at his face, but even then she seemed one or two daydreams away. He couldn’t figure his next move. He had really put himself on display and she seemed to be appreciating the show, but if she didn’t do something more than just stare at him he was going to start feeling a little stupid. He took a big mouthful of General Tso chicken - sweet, spicy, juicy, fried; it was really good here - and looked over at her again. She had relaxed a bit, her coat was draped off her shoulder and he noticed for the first time her red hair, dusted brown. She had dark eyes, fixed - he could swear he could feel them - on his chubby, chewing cheeks. Her lips were in a loose open smile as she gazed at him, and he figured if she was going to keep sitting there fattening him with her eyes then they were at least going to say hello. He finished his mouthful, then turned to look at her straight on. It took her a moment to realize that he’d stopped eating; then she looked up. Her eyes met his, and she gasped and darted her eyes away. Hot blood rushed to her cheeks; she pulled her coat around her, and very nearly covered her face with her hands. She’s actually mortified, Daniel thought. Maybe he’d misjudged the whole thing. Maybe she wasn’t interested after all, just astonished, or horrified. Crap. Whatever; no reason to drag this out. I need a refill, and if she wants to stick around she will; if not, then she can duck out while I’m up.

Daniel loaded a new plate with cakes and fruit, pastries and cream cheese. Too bad, he thought, growing more certain that she actually would leave. Almost had a perfect day. He turned to the drink station, but the milk spigot needed two hands to work. He looked around in vain for some place to set his food, then stood there a moment, dreading the thought of making another trip. Yep, this day was tanking fast.

Suddenly she was at his side. “Here; let me.” She took the glass from his hand and looked up at him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks.” She nodded a little smile and turned toward the spigot. “Chocolate,” he said after her.

She looked back at him and her smile grew. “Chocolate.”
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Old 02-13-2013, 02:25 PM   #6
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Chapter Four - Larding Up

Julianne poured a double shot of the digestif. The dark liqueur helped Danny’s meals go down, and he’d just finished one of the richest meals he’d had in a while. She grabbed the jar of coconut oil she’d been warming, and headed for the den. The corridors in their home were wide, and not a door in sight. As she approached, she could hear her big man groan. She watched him slowly rub his taught, tender stomach; the great fat of his belly spilled between his legs and trembled by his heavy, creasing calves. The serving cart stood next to him, empty plates all but licked clean. “Hello, handsome,” she smiled as she entered the room.

Daniel smiled back at her, “Hello, angel.” He was shirtless and drowsy, his head nestled in his thick cushion of double chin. She handed him the drink then sank in beside him and set to work rubbing oil into his vast rolling belly.

“How was supper? Still hungry?”

“Oof,” he sighed, “no way.” He adjusted his mountainous body and Julianne watched his rippling blubber with glee. “Food weighed a ton.”

“Well, dinner’s going to be light.” His belly soaked in the oil, softening quickly.

“What’s for dinner,” he asked, his eyelids drooping.

“Soup, salad, sushi,” her eyes twinkled back. She knew it was one of his favorite pigouts.

“Awesome,” he smiled.

“Yeah,” she kneaded his rock-hard stomach and could already feel it relaxing. Eating machine. “So I thought I’d lard you up with the heavy stuff now; especially since you were nice and high.”

“Good thinking.”

“How did it all go down,” she asked. Her tone had dropped slightly; a bit more serious. “I saw you slowed a bit with the pot pie. Was it okay?”

“Delicious. Just so rich, after fettucine , German chocolate, butterscotch milkshake...”

She jiggled his belly playfully, “Okay, okay.”

“I scarfed that maple cream cake, though.”

Julianne let out a quick, low laugh, “I saw that. You really picked up.”

“Maple cake, out of this world.” He licked his lips as if he could still taste it. Then his eyes closed, and he felt her massage, fingers kneading through his layers and layers of fat. A belly they had both worked hard to grow, and to maintain. A life together they had both dreamed of, and were making happen. It still astounded him; it was all so wonderful. He opened his eyes, then reached out and stroked her dusty red hair. She looked at him, then leaned over and kissed him, deep and long. Their lips parted; she stayed in close, and whispered, “Hey, fatso.”

“Hey, pervert.” They both smiled, and she relaxed into his pillowy body. She still had her shirt on, and it bugged her; she sat up, pulled it off, and undid her bra. Daniel watched happily. In their years together Julianne had indulged herself, softened, and plumped out considerably. She liked to think it was beyond her control; part of Danny’s glamour, an intangible influence he just gave off. So fat was he, he made all around him fat. For Daniel, her gain was a lot more straightforward: his beautiful wife was slowly becoming his fat and beautiful wife, and he loved it.

She reached around his rolls and squeezed herself against him; he playfully smacked her round ass, packed tight into her jeans. Her head lay on his draping tit while her arm roamed around his belly. “We’ve got an hour before dinner. Do you want to nap?” She felt his body shake as he grunted yes and nodded; his double chin brushed against her hair. He was already halfway to sleep.

“Thinking about you earlier,” his heavy, tired hand caressed her soft hip.

She smiled as her fingers danced in his blubber. “Yeah? What about me?”

Daniel grinned, sleepy eyes closed. “Our favorite buffet...”

Julianne blushed. “We haven’t been there in years, piggy.” Her fingers walked her hand down as far as she could reach, and she was still only tickling the great canyon of his belly button. She smiled, and listened to him fall asleep. His breathing grew slow and deep, echoing like a great bellows. Deeper down, she could hear his churning, gurgling gut - the fat-making factory, tirelessly working to turn food into flesh. In the distance she could hear the low, steady thunder of his heartbeat. Her husband was a bear, a hog, a tank, a whale. He was an entire world; his belly an undulating wonder. And oh, was he eating big: six meals a day now, followed by a gainer shake night cap just before bed (the gainer shake was his idea, she liked to note). Snacks were always within reach in case he got peckish between meals, though Julianne was proudly cooking up such huge portions that between-meal time was getting scarcer and scarcer.

The fat life was better than she’d ever dreamed; and she had almost blown it all that day at the buffet. She was such a wreck - she was sure that she’d torn any chance when he busted her gawking at him. Her relationship with Theo had left her so insecure her social skills had just derailed. She was certain he was offended, scared he might even scold her - most of all she felt like an asshole and wanted to disappear. Then she noticed that he wasn’t upset; he didn’t seem fazed at all. He wasn’t ignoring her, but he certainly wasn’t letting her get to him - it seemed like he was actually just a little disappointed. He got up and strolled right back to the food, and started gathering his dessert with a simple, secure confidence that she couldn’t resist. Soon she was by his side and they were smiling at each other, talking, just like normal people. She fed off his stability; she felt in orbit around him. Carrying his chocolate milk gave her peace.

But her favorite part of that day came after the buffet. Daniel had finished the last of his dessert and had settled back in his seat. They’d been chatting happily, the conversation bouncing from topic to topic, but nimbly avoiding the subject of fat. Sometimes they’d talk about how good the food was, but Julianne was always quick to change the conversation. Mostly, she was afraid if she let herself talk fat then that would be all she talked about - it was, after all, all she wanted to talk about - and he would think she was a nutjob.

“Want something else? I mean…” She immediately backed off. It was less an offer than a shrug.

He shook his head, “I’m going to let this settle.” She nodded, holding back a dozen things she wanted to say.

“Besides,” he said with a conspiratorial wink, “I want to have room enough to hit Coldstone later on.” At that, Julianne’s fattest desires raced through her, desperate to find some expression: a quick laugh, a playful remark, a flirtatious belly pat. But it was just too much; all she could assemble was a startled guffaw, a slack jaw that bucked her teeth, and a throaty, thoroughly goofy, “Uh, can I come with?”

The Coldstone was just across the parking lot, as if laid out by some gluttonous city planner. Daniel had offered her his arm, and she had tucked herself right up next to him. As they walked her eyes fixed on the belly before her, wobbling like a giant water balloon. He liked that she admired his belly, and liked that he could show it off for her. He also liked that she adjusted her pace to match his slower gait, and kept the conversation going as he got more winded by the end of their walk.

Julianne could barely contain her excitement. She had grown up near this strip mall, and years ago that Coldstone had been Imperial Wear, the local fat men’s store. Gigantic overalls used to hang in one window, a cheerful advertisement for their sizes (“Up to 80 Inches! --Special orders available--“). They were amazing; her mind struggled to conceive of someone so huge. Sometimes she would go in to look at them; once she even asked if anyone ever bought them. The answer - “Oh, sure.” - had boggled her young mind. She started to hang out at the arcade on the corner just to be near them. And now here she was with this wonderfully obese man digging into a five-scoop sundae, seated at a table by the very window in which those overalls used to hang. Daniel was still some gain away from an eighty-inch waistline, but God, he sure felt like an eighty-inch waistline kind of guy. She could see the old arcade space, perpetually empty; she could feel herself young again, throwing quarters into a game so she could stare at her half-understood fat fantasy. She smiled to herself as she licked her strawberry cone.

(Continued in post 11 of this thread)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 02-15-2013 at 09:58 PM.
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Old 02-14-2013, 11:36 AM   #7
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Default Bra-vo!!

Amazingly well done. I usually don't look much into BHM fiction, which i dont know why because i'm a gainer... but this one.. wow, i'm glad i looked it up.. it is fantastic, so far. Thank you, good sir.
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Old 02-14-2013, 04:41 PM   #8
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I'm definitely hooked, hoping this continues.
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Old 02-15-2013, 02:32 PM   #9
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Really an excellent piece. I have enjoyed reading it and hope you continue on. I would suggest a return to the buffet where they met or at least a journalistic swipe in that direction, or perhaps a trip to the fat man's store to be followed by a return to their buffet or some other scenes within their life together. Either way a very good start and I hope there is more to come
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Old 02-15-2013, 04:17 PM   #10
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Thanks for the compliments and feedback, everyone!
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Old 02-15-2013, 04:20 PM   #11
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Chapter Five - His Usual

It seemed like hours had passed since she and Daniel had gotten to the Coldstone. Not because they weren’t enjoying each others company - they very much were. In fact, they were hitting it off wonderfully. But internally, Julianne was still too lost in her nagging thoughts to let it register. What also didn’t sink in was the fact that Daniel really seemed to enjoy his size; he had no apparent inhibitions about his fat, and he eagerly overate. It was all staring her in the face, but she just wouldn’t let herself trust it. She thought about Theo, and how Theo seemed to enjoy his fat, too, as well as all her fat admirations and encouragement. But Theo was lying – to himself, to her, to everyone. And then he was mean. And it still hurt. She wanted so badly to tell Daniel how big and handsome he was, but anytime the urge to flirt struck, her doubts would rise up and strangle it. Her joyously pro-fat self was trapped, stymied by her own rioting emotions. Their conversation carried on, of course, just like any friendly, stumbling, and eager first time, but God, she wanted to say so much more.

Daniel finished his big sundae with one last bowl-scraping spoonful of caramel, then sat back and muffled a belch with his napkin. He smiled a sheepish grin at her.

“‘Scuse me,” he said.

Her heart leapt; she giggled, and out slipped: “So what’s next, big man?” She laughed immediately, loud and nervous, and more than a little horrified at herself. But Daniel just chuckled, his belly a big bouncing delight. She wanted to pat it and laugh with him, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d offended him – something that she simultaneously knew just wasn’t true. She was really starting to piss herself off.

Daniel glanced up at the menu, and Julianne nearly gasped. Is there really something coming next? In the short time she’d been with him he’d already eaten enough for three people. Was he really going to have more?

The fat-lover inside her just couldn’t take it anymore; she had to say something. Daniel read the menu with a gluttonous gleam in his eye, and Julianne’s insides screamed, Tell him! Just tell him--

“I love--” was as far as she got before she choked and looked away.

She could feel Daniel look at her and she blushed. Great, she grimaced. You’re in it now, Jules; the rope is strung, might as well hang yourself.

Fine. I will.

“I love that you eat so much.” Once it was out, she looked up at him.

He was looking back at her, his eyes happy and warm. “I’m glad for that,” he grinned, “I love it too.”

Julianne’s smile zipped big across her face. “Oh... Oh, good,” her head tingled and buzzed; she shook it quickly, her smile strong as ever. “You’re so…” her hand brought the rest of her cone up to her mouth, as if in a last-ditch attempt to shut her up. “You’re just so--” She popped the end of the cone in her mouth and got caught up crunching; this time she really did lose the words. Her hands started to gesture while she chewed, and she realized they were grabbing at the air as if kneading flab. She blushed and yanked her hands back. Daniel laughed again, and his whole body shook.

“You’re adorable,” he said. She smiled through her cheeks, finished chewing, and swallowed. Finally, she spoke again.

“No fair. I was going to say that to you.”

“Oh, okay.” He leaned in over his huge belly, “Then you’re delicious.”

Julianne gulped. She’d never been flirted with so brazenly - not by a fat guy, anyway. Most fat guys had an obstacle course of defenses when it came to any kind of flirtation, and she’d usually have to spend their first couple of dates just convincing them she was sincere. This was way better.

“So then,” she gave him a coy look, “what are you having next?”

“Oh, not much,” he shrugged, “a shake maybe.”

“Just to top things off.”
“Sure. Something chocolaty, maybe cheesecakey… or peanut butter, caramel…”

“Mm hmm. Nothing big.”

“Well, nothing too big,” he winked.

She bit her lip and sprang from her chair. “Be right back.”

Julianne stood at the counter, bouncing on her heels, her fingers tapping eagerly on the smooth butcher block. The server appeared from the back, carrying a fresh five-gallon drum of ice cream; she carried it before her like a belly, and waddled slightly from its weight. Julianne smiled to herself. She saw fat everywhere, obesity always foremost in her mind. The server replaced the empty drum in the freezer, then came to the counter.

“Can I help you?” She was plump, not quite middle-aged, with a calm, experienced look.

“I need a big milkshake.” Her heart raced just saying the words.

The server darted a quick glance at Daniel, then asked, “You want his usual?”

“Uh... What?”

“Oh, sorry. Is the shake for you or for him?” She nodded toward Daniel, and Julianne blushed a little.

“It’s for him—uh, is he a regular?”

The server shrugged. “Off and on, since we opened. But yeah, pretty regular the last fifty pounds or so.” She chuckled, and Julianne joined in with her goofy, grinning guffaw.

“Really? What does he get?”

“Oh, he goes right for the top. PB&C - peanut butter and chocolate. We call it the twenty-ten.”

Julianne looked up at the menu. Jesus, she meant calories: the largest PB&C boasted two-thousand and ten of them. “Okay then.”

She rang it up, “O-kay; and then he’ll play the field for the second one.”

“The second?”

“He gets two milkshakes.”

“Wow. Then let’s get...” She looked at the menu and tried to sort through the numbers, but her brain was too busy picturing Daniel just filling and filling his belly. “Whatever the next one, you know, the next highest, uh, calorie...”

“That’d be the Oh Fudge.”

“Awesome. And load ‘em up.”

The server smiled. “You’re cute. He’s a lucky man.”

“You kidding? I’m the one hit the jackpot here.”

“Ha! Then you’d better get to know our menu.” She handed Julianne a folded menu with the calorie counts proudly displayed. “My name’s Polly. You just give a call when you need something whipped up.”

It’s funny how quickly things can turn around, Julianne thought. Just a couple of hours ago she was grumbling and alone. Now, her spirits were soaring; and all because of a great gluttonous fat man. She smiled back at Polly, and took the menu.

“Absolutely I will.”

God she was hot, Daniel thought as he watched Julianne chat with Polly. Wicked eyes, killer smile, goofy laugh, and a dynamite body to fill out those jeans. He sure did something right today. He shifted in his seat, planting his feet wider apart to accommodate his fuller belly, and licked his lips as he stared at her nice round ass. He tasted traces of ice cream and syrup, and gave his belly a loving pat. Yep, he’d been doing a lot of things right lately.

He looked around the Coldstone. Used to be a big and tall store, way back before he really needed it (and back when they called it a “Fat Men’s Shop”). He remembered the giant overalls that used to hang in the window. This window in fact, he thought as he scanned the glass next to him. Those things had an eighty-inch waist; they were enthralling, and terrifying, and he wished they were still there. You didn’t see things like that around much anymore, he thought; the really big sizes seem to have migrated online. Couldn’t get too bummed about it, though, when years later the place becomes an ice cream shop. Still, he wondered how easy it would be to find eighty-inch waistlines, even online. And what about beyond that? Would he have to go custom? That would be a pretty major expense, custom-made clothes. Wow; was he seriously thinking about growing his belly past eighty inches?

Then Julianne returned; his mind snapped back to the present. There she was, this beautiful girl, smiling in front of him and holding out a milkshake.

“I’m back.”

“Thanks.” He grinned and took the shake, then noticed the bag in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Your second.”

“Two shakes?” He asked as he sipped the first.

“Yep. You have a fan.” Julianne nodded back toward the counter, and Daniel smiled: Polly. The second shake was Polly’s idea on a particularly greedy afternoon some months ago, and had since become routine. Daniel thought for a moment to be embarrassed about his excess, but then just as quickly thought, why bother? This was all too good; if he didn’t have it like this, he would wish that he did. He stood, paused for a moment for balance, and then Julianne took his arm and the two of them started for the door.

“Thanks, Polly!” Daniel waved to her, Julianne beaming beside him.

“Any time, Danny boy!” Polly called cheerfully back.
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Old 02-16-2013, 08:43 AM   #12
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Chapter Six - The Happy Hippo

And now here was Daniel, years later, married, and massive. He was awake at four in the morning, lying in their bed with Julianne nestled deep into the plush fat of his side. He had his arm around her; she had one arm stretched across his stupendous belly, and gripped a thick roll of his fat while she slept.

His stomach grumbled quietly, and Daniel smirked and patted it softly. Down boy, he thought, we’ll be eating again momentarily. He noticed his CPAP tube and mask lay twisted in the sheets, and worked with his free hand to untangle it. He’d had it so long it was a regular accessory, but still it was the rare night that he didn’t tear it off in his sleep. Once it was freed, he hung it on the wall by his head. He wasn’t about to put it back on now; it was snack time.

The food cart was next to their bed, and Julianne had laid out an assortment of cakes, pastries, and candy bars before they had turned in. It was something she’d started doing when it got harder for him to lift himself out of bed at night to waddle to the kitchen to eat. He was still capable of it, but it wasn’t easy, especially in the dark, and Julianne didn’t like the thought of her Big Dan knocking things down or tumbling over furniture. It also made it easier for her to sleep through the night; as her fat man grew fatter his attempts at getting up would often bounce her right out of bed.

Not exactly a tough adjustment to make, Daniel thought as he reached out for a platter of stuffed croissants. He chomped away happily, the platter bobbing on his trembling gut. When he started on a fourth, Julianne suddenly stirred. Daniel froze, mid-bite. She’d finished a dream, it seemed, but didn’t rouse to waking; just re-nestled herself into his wobbling rolls and slipped back to sleep. Daniel relaxed and got back to eating.

Once he finished the last croissant, Daniel swapped the platter for a small plate of chocolate bars, and set to work chowing them down. His first bite was dark and smooth, and filled with a rich salt caramel; he rumbled out a deep and satisfied groan. Piles of food, a belly like a waterbed, and a beautiful woman snuggling his blubber. Yep, the fat life was pretty great.

Julianne awoke with the sun, the morning light filling their bedroom with a soft, warm glow. Her husband, also soft and warm, lay next to her, snoring quietly. Her fingers played across his rolls; she gave him a happy squeeze, and his great lower belly swayed slowly in response. She tingled as it bounced against her leg, a hazy morning arousal building inside her.

She looked around the room. After she and Daniel got married, any bit of her that was still uncomfortable about her love for fat had completely disappeared, and she became an unabashed cheerleader for supreme obesity. Like the rest of their house their bedroom was designed to accommodate her super-fat man, and everything was big, sturdy, and roomy. She could hear the hum of the mini-fridges, one at his bedside and one by his dressing bench. She glanced at the fat art on the walls: fat people, food, cooking, even a few nudes of her enormous man. And the mirrors – Oh, the mirrors. How she loved the mirrors. She could see him lying there, all of him, her thick and chubby self next to her mountainous, miraculous man.

Daniel snorted awake; she looked up. His puffy cheek and sweeping second chin blocked her from his sight, and she noticed for the first time the plate of food on his fat chest. He must have fallen asleep right in the middle of his late night snack; his hand still held half a chocolate bar. As he stirred he resumed chewing, and finished the last of his snack in two easy bites. She watched as he licked his fingers, her morning arousal sharpening.

“Good morning, my happy hippo.” She rubbed his belly and discovered his stomach was still pretty packed.

“Hello, sweet stuff,” he smiled. Julianne started massaging his stomach. Daniel moaned in pleasure, and she got up on her knees so she could use both hands. That’s when she saw the empty food cart. She thought she’d left him a pretty huge snack, but he’d demolished it.

“Wow. Not even breakfast yet and you’ve already been such a pig.”

Daniel chuckled, and his belly bucked. “Which is it, lady? Am I a hippo or a pig?”

Julianne giggled playfully and thought a moment. “Hard to say. Definitely a hippo when you float in the pool, or lie around and graze all day…” She stared at the flakes of pastry stuck to the smeared chocolate around his lips, and leaned in close, pausing just before the kiss, and whispered. “But when you hit the feeding trough like that, stuffing yourself full before the day even begins, you’re nothing but a big, fat pig.” Daniel’s breath sharpened, and they kissed deeply; his mouth still sweet from the food. Then their lips parted, and Daniel started to brush the crumbs from his face.

“I’m a mess—”

Julianne stopped him. “Don’t,” she pulled his hand back and looked into his eyes. Then she looked down at his lips, at the spots of chocolate in the corners of his mouth; the crumbs scattered across his chest; the flecks of pastry trembling on the fat of his double chin. She loved it all. Through her smile she let out a quick, heavy, deep-throated laugh, then dove in for another kiss.

Her passion surprised him, and he gave it all back. He grabbed her and pulled her on top of him. She yelped and giggled with glee, her feet dangling giddily off the dome of his belly.

“Well then, Farmer J.,” he squeezed her big ass, “you better get ready to slop this hog’s pen full, because I feel like I could eat all day long.”

“Soo-wee!” She hollered, and they both laughed. Then she moved back into him with slow, determined kisses; serious kisses. The kind of kisses that would always lead to—

“Baby, you’re going to hate me.”

She stopped and looked at him. “What?”

“I’ve got to pee.”

“Aw, man.”

“I’ll be quick, I swear. Just let me get up—“

“You’ll be quick?” She sneered, then patted his soft chest. “Don’t move.” She popped off him, and Daniel watched as she bounded for the bathroom. That extra padding was certainly not enough to slow her down, he thought, stroking the giant bean bag belly that pinned his tubby ass to the bed.
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Old 02-16-2013, 08:45 AM   #13
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Warning: Explicit

Chapter Seven - Giving Thanks

In the bathroom, Julianne tossed a couple of washcloths into the sink and ran hot water over them. As she grabbed the plastic urine bottle for him she caught herself in the mirror. Those dimples on her butt were getting serious; she’d definitely grown some lately. She’d fantasized before about gaining a lot of weight herself, but she really loved taking care of Daniel, and looking after her fat man burned a lot of calories. It was nice, though, being a little fatter. She looked full; satisfied.

Then, a desperate shout from the bedroom: “Julie! Not a good time to run water!”

She jumped a bit as reality popped back, then shut off the faucet. “Sorry!” She gave the washcloths a quick wring and headed back bedside. “Hi, hi, sorry,” she giggled as she placed the washcloths on his stomach and pulled the top off the urine bottle. Daniel was already at work lifting his belly; Julianne pushed it back with her free hand, then leaned in with her arm to hold back the fat. She nudged a few folds of his groin out of the way, and tucked his penis into the bottle’s mouth.

“Okay; we’re in!” She looked up, but all she could see was belly, blubbery belly. A great jiggling wall that trembled and bounced as he sighed and shivered with pleasure at finally releasing. The belly wall brushed her nose; she giggled and nudged it back, breathing in the warm musk. Then she licked his belly, and licked again. Then her tongue rolled out and she licked slowly, tasting the flesh, this deepest fold of fat, just part of the great crease that formed under his draping swag of belly fat. It was salty, sweaty, silky, soft…

Then Daniel finished; she pulled the bottle back and capped it shut. As she grabbed one of the washcloths she caught his quizzical look and smiled.

“Did you just lick my underbelly?” He asked her.

“Yes.” She cleaned him up; softly, slowly.

“Why?” He groaned; she was working some magic down there.

“Because I love you.” She was sweet and direct. She made life so simple. Daniel smiled.

“I love you, too.” He grew harder as he said it; Julianne squeezed his growing shaft.


She dropped the cloth on the cart next to the bottle, then pushed it all aside as she climbed up his rolling torso. She used the second washcloth to clean his face, wiping the chocolate from his mouth as he stroked her curving back and the soft flesh of her sides. She brushed the crumbs from his chest, but made sure that the bigger flakes of pastry found their way back to his mouth.

“Always be eating,” she whispered; as much a credo as an intensely erotic command. Daniel smiled his willing compliance, his gluttony so evident in his chins and dimpling cheeks that his whole fat face seemed to smile right along with him. Her breath quickened - he could feel her heating up, feel the warmth between her thighs, feel her muscles writhe under her skin, under her own burgeoning softness. She brought more crumbs to his mouth, big enough to rekindle the flavors of his early morning binge, and his excitement spread. Though still full from that round of excess, he felt the first sharp pangs of his hunger return. He glanced at the clock on the wall – last time he looked at it was barely an hour ago, and he had gorged himself so full that he’d passed out. Now his stomach was grumbling for more. His erection swelled underneath the pile of his gut as he stroked his belly. “Always Be Eating”, indeed. Her credo really had for them become a way of life.

She tickled under his chin and told him to lift up. Daniel tilted back his head and his neck fat - an abundant roll that drooped down his chest - lifted with it. He felt her wipe with the cloth, then pull back. “What’s this?” She asked as her fingers pushed his neck fat back further. And there, snuggled in deep, was nearly a full bite of croissant, smeared with blueberry jam and cream cheese. She giggled and held it up for him to see. “God, baby…” She was kind of stunned. What a blimp; so fat that he lost food in his rolls… She wanted to speak, but couldn’t really get her thoughts, you know, together…

“I thought I felt something scratchy down there.” Daniel smiled at it, “Blueberry, right?” Julianne could only nod; a hungry look glinted in his eyes. “First one I ate.”

“God,” Julianne moaned, “you fucking hog --”

He jerked forward and grabbed the morsel in his greedy mouth; she gasped as he pulled back slowly and let his thick tongue slide over her thumb and forefinger. Then he lay back chewing, nestling himself into his flabby, grinning chins.

She was completely undone, and he was hard as a rock—

He groped and grabbed to lift his belly; her juices dripped on his overhang as she scrambled and slid down to get under him. She let out a desperate, trembling cry as she heaved his belly up and saw that he was stiff and ready. She leaped on him, and they both cried out as he drove his hips up to meet her. Together they let go of his rolling blubber; it crashed down on her, billowing, engulfing her thighs, pushing her down - and ramming him in even deeper. Their cries grew ecstatic as they bucked and bounced, his body rippling over her in massive waves.

They came together quickly, fiercely, each of them seized by a joyous, supercharged jolt of pleasure. He was deep inside her and all around her; she was immersed in him. Julianne’s muscles tensed and trembled across her tender body; Daniel’s also tensed, layers deep under his great wobbling oceans of fat. His mounding, folding, creasing, rolling blubber jiggled with life all its own, its motion calming as their orgasms started to wane. As Julianne’s breath came back and the flashing stars faded from her eyes, Daniel’s glistening, fuzzy flesh filled her senses. She could smell the heat rising from his sweaty belly; hear his stomach gently sloshing. Sweat trickled onto her tongue and filled her mouth with the musky memory of that enormous slab of underbelly. She rested her hands on Daniel’s vastness. He intoxicated her; she sank right into him. Then she stretched out her arms and flopped onto his belly, riding the waves of his corpulence. He weighed twice what he did the day they met, and then some. Together they had built him up by over four hundred pounds. She kissed his belly thoughtfully.

Daniel watched the sunlight warm her hair, the golden sheen of sweat sparkling on her back. When he was a thinner fat man he used to be able, post-coitus, to caress that glowing skin. Now when they lay together like this – Julianne straddling his groin with his belly in her lap – he could barely reach across his own blubber to stroke her hair. So Daniel had taken to just lying back and letting his belly touch her, feel her tucked in underneath. He could feel his fat draped around her, his lower belly pressed against her stomach, her thighs deep in the slick heat of his great belly crease, trembling.

Mornings like this, he just couldn’t believe she was his; that this was his life. But it was. He really had found an obese muse in Julianne, his gain inspired by her beauty and fueled by her love. He loved her more than he knew how to say; just being near her made him feel grateful to everything.

He was still deep inside her, and she seemed quite content to stay pinned in place. She was delicately kneading his spreading love handles, kissing the soft fat around his navel; and, he noticed, whispering something.

“What are you whispering?” He asked.

She shrugged a little. “Oh. Just giving thanks.”

“To whom?”

“To God. The universe. You.”

“For what?”

“To God, for making me a fat-loving girl. To the universe, for bringing me such a wonderful, gluttonous man to feed and grow and love. And to you, my sweet obese soulmate, for letting me love you just as I am; for opening your heart to me, and for taking such good care of mine.”


“I know; it’s a lot.” She sighed and snuggled into him.

“Jesus, I love every bit of you.”

Her face pressed into his fat; he felt her smile. Then his stomach rumbled softly and she looked up at him. “Really? Are you getting hungry?”

“What do you think?” Daniel smiled, and gave his hips a grind. He rippled, and her groin shivered.

“Oh—” Goose bumps tingled across her body. “Wow, I think you must be.”
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Old 02-17-2013, 08:59 AM   #14
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AAAAAAUGH THIS STORY IS SO GOOD. Whether you add more to it or not, it's just incredible. Instant classic. I keep wanting to be more specific and enumerate the best parts and I can't even narrow it down.
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Old 02-26-2013, 05:06 PM   #15
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Fat guys made her happy, and the fact that fat guys made her happy made the fat guys happy, and it always made her so so happy to see a happy fat guy. Everyone was fucking happy.
That's great writing. And even though I've only read the first three chapters so far, I like your story so much, I just couldn't wait to leave a comment (and I haven't even gotten to the "explicit" chapter yet! ) Very professionally written and I think you've got Daniel's psychology right too, especially the part about him reaching a certain weight and then being disappointed because he fantasizes about being even fatter. And her doubts and insecurities because she likes fat guys and has to "lurk" around all-you-can-eat buffets to see them. I just love that! It looks like you're relatively new to the site, but based on this piece, I certainly hope you will keep on writing and contributing. Congratulations!
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Old 03-13-2013, 03:43 PM   #16
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Thanks, Jerry -- and everyone who's commented! I've been hoping to get more up, but haven't been able to get it together lately. I appreciate the encouragement. More soon!
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Old 03-19-2013, 04:56 PM   #17
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Default last 2 chapters

Spectacular story. I can only hope for more, I loved the visual concept of the mirrors and the fat promoting photo's etc in the bedroom. I hope you'll add some more it's really very well done. Thank you
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Old 04-11-2013, 07:21 PM   #18
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Chapter Eight – Half A Feast

After their first afternoon together Julianne found it near impossible to think of anything but Daniel eating. More accurately, Daniel eating and eating and eating; filling that wonderful belly to capacity and beyond. And when she wasn’t fixating on him eating, she was thinking about feeding him, cooking for him, assembling meals that quickly became feasts, and snacks that spread out into day-long binges. She wanted his appetite in her life; she wanted to lay claim to him, to plant her feeder’s flag atop Fat Daniel’s mountainous belly.

He’d treated her to a lovely restaurant meal for their first date, and she insisted on cooking for him for their second. She’d fed him a little when their first date continued upstairs with her invitation for cake – but that was just flirty fun and she’d had less cake at home than she thought. She wanted dinner for their second date to be an absolute feast. She remembered back to her fifth grade homeroom and a picture that had gone up at Thanksgiving of a warm, smiling earth mother presenting a cornucopia overflowing with food. She had really loved that picture, and it filled her thoughts as she planned the meal, scouring cookbooks and old family recipes, hunting for ideas online, and of course, fantasizing: Daniel digging into piles of food, clothes stretching and tearing from the strain, belt loosening into obsolescence – and Daniel growing by 50, 100, 200 pounds. Her head swam with deliciously obese visions.

Her shopping, however, was far less free and assured. Julianne was suddenly so much happier now that she’d found Daniel that she’d stopped thinking about her toxic relationship with Theo. But Theo hadn’t fully left her system, and she was too caught up in her excitement to realize how the deepest traces of Theo’s poisons were still working on her. She unconsciously pulled back on every purchase, that driving indulgent urge curbed by the doubt that Theo had planted. When she was finished and heading home she had far less food than the feast in her fantasy – and she didn’t even know it.

The car rocked gently as Daniel settled into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. He reached under his jacket, loosened his belt and opened his pants. “Finally,” he sighed as his belly relaxed onto his lap. His clothes had been tight all day, especially after his big lunch and regular afternoon snacking. He knew he was outgrowing them, though they were much tighter today than ever before. “Not a big surprise, I guess,” he muttered as he lifted the armrest and grabbed a candy bar from his console stash. He’d already ordered new clothes, but they hadn’t arrived yet and he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of showing up at Julianne’s trussed up in tight, girdling clothes. He suspected she wouldn’t exactly mind, but it meant he wouldn’t be able to fit much in at dinner.

“Unless, of course, I open my pants up,” he thought to himself as he rubbed his freed belly under his shirt. Then he smiled, thinking about Julianne unbuttoning his pants and helping his belly spread out, readying her man for another course of food. That particular fantasy kept him entertained all the way home.

He got to his front door and saw the delivery from King Size waiting for him. His new clothes had arrived. He grunted as he bent over to pick up the package, and couldn’t help but smile. Bigger pants, just in time for dinner.

And dinner was delicious. She’d made him a seven-layer dip, big chopped salad, bacon-wrapped shrimp, and pork chops stuffed fat with baked apples; Daniel happily let loose and dug right in. Conversation was fun and lively; he was too polite to speak with his mouth full, and she just kept on talking so he could eat as he pleased. She watched him as if under a spell, charmed by his chubby smile and satisfied grunts.

“God, this is good,” Daniel sighed as he mopped up the scraps on his plate. Julianne beamed as he tossed the last morsel in his mouth and leaned back, his belly piled up proudly. “I could do that all again.”

Julianne twitched with excitement at his swelling belly; then she looked up at him and realized he was serious. Her smile dropped. “Wait. Really?”

“You bet,” Daniel laughed, and his great belly shook. What was it she’d said when they met? ‘I love that you eat so much’ – right? He knew she enjoyed his gluttonous habits, and he’d done his best on their first date to demonstrate how much he enjoyed them, too. But tonight he wanted to really come clean and lay his gainer cards on the table. He patted his greedy stomach and winked, “Let’s pack some more in here!”

Julianne hesitated. She pictured the kitchen, empty of anything resembling a second round. She couldn’t even think of something she could call leftovers; she’d fed him everything she’d made – could she really have misjudged his appetite so badly? She’d prepared a ton of food! Hadn’t she?

She tried not to panic, and focused instead on what food she did have. She brightened quickly and smiled at Daniel, “How about dessert?”

Daniel wasn’t actually ready for dessert. He was ready for more pork chops. And shrimp. And the dip was awesome – all gone too quickly. He had hoped, in fact, that Julianne would really cut loose and feast him up tonight. Was this really it? Maybe she wasn’t as into this as he was. Could he really have misread her?

“Dessert sounds great,” he smiled back at her. Maybe she’d just kept the meal reasonable in anticipation of a big, gooey, epic dessert. That must be it.

“Sit tight.” She kissed his cheek and squeezed his rolls, then grabbed up plates and headed for the kitchen.

Daniel’s stomach grumbled. He looked down at it sternly: Hush up, you. His hands patted and caressed, soothing. She is so sweet, and that was all delicious, so pipe down. His stomach grumbled again, louder. He really hoped dessert was big.

In the kitchen, Julianne stood frowning over a plate of cookies. “Is this all I have,” she whispered. They’d looked so big at the bakery; and they were big. She guessed.

She opened the fridge for the milk. She’d figured on heaps and heaps of warm, gooey cookies with a gallon of cold whole—

She stopped; she looked at the milk in her hands. It was a quart. She frowned and peered around the fridge, but that was it. She had only bought a quart. A quart. That’s like a glass. Worse than that, it was 2%.

“Two per what? What the… What is in my head?”

She looked at the puny plate of cookies. He wasn’t even ready for dessert; he wanted seconds. On everything. Maybe more.

She went to the freezer for ice cream. No ice cream. How could she not have ice cream? She’d made dinner for the cutest fattest fatboy she’d ever met, and she didn’t get any ice cream? Or extra pork chops? Or extra anything?

She shut the freezer door with a slam, and Daniel called out. “You okay?”

“Yeah! Nothing!” She shook it off and grabbed the cookies, then threw on her big smile and flounced next to him. But there was no mistaking that deeply furrowed brow. She had a terrible poker face.

“What’s the matter?”

But she just presented the plate, hoping the smell would distract him. It did. He knew these cookies, and loved them. This bakery made them big. And warm, like these were, they smelled so good. Just amazing cookies, even if she did have only three. “Yum,” he smiled at her.

She was happy for a moment, but it was fleeting. “Enjoy,” she mustered, her eyes wet and worried. He took a nice big bite, hoping it might cheer her up – but he nearly decimated it in one go, and it just made the cookie look tiny; her mood darkened further.

“Julie,” his mouth was full, but this was just too weird, “really, what’s the matter—” She held up the quart of 2%.

“It’s all I have.”

He chuckled, “S’okay,” was this a joke?

Then he saw a tear fall and realized she was trembling; and then she sobbed and he knew she was crying. And suddenly he felt like a fucking pig. He put down the cookies and reached out to her; she reached back and they embraced. They both wanted to speak, but she was too choked up and his mouth was still full. Finally, he finished his mouthful and she relaxed into sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time. Then they looked at each other, each equally concerned. “Don’t be sorry,” they said, again in unison. This time they laughed. He pulled her closer and she wiped her eyes.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I don’t have enough food for you. Why would you be sorry?”

“Because who could keep up with me? I’m a total pig.”

“But I want you to be! Don’t you want to be? Don’t you want to eat more?”

“Well, yeah. Yes, of course.”

“I had a whole big feast planned for you tonight.”

“Oh. Well—”

“I wanted to stuff you so huge. I mean like for hours.”


“Woof – make you so fat.”

“That’s awesome. So, what? What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off. He could see her tearing up again.

“It’s okay if you don’t know.”

“No,” she sighed, and sat up. “No. I know.”
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Old 04-11-2013, 07:50 PM   #19
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Chapter Nine – F-in’ Theo

And then she told him. She told him about Theo, who she dated, and wanted so bad, and put up with, and fought with, and got hurt by. “Fat Theo”, everyone had always called him - a moniker she loved, especially when they started going out and she became Fat Theo’s girlfriend. She loved helping him fatten, though they didn’t do a lot of out-and-out feeding. She was open with him, though; made big meals and encouraged his appetite.

Noticeable gains would bring explosive sex. The mornings after, however, were riddled with Theo’s insecurities: annoyance at tight clothes, snide cracks at Julie’s pervy fetish, belly-shame, and vows to diet. Then Julianne would shop for him and after a few days in clothes that fit, his diet talk would fade. He’d accept her advances and enjoy her caress, and soon be happily back into his double-helping habits. Soon, gains started to seem like less of an issue to him – or so she thought. She believed she was helping build his confidence, and defeating his hangups about appearance and appetite. She would have sworn that she was making him a happier man, and she would have told you that that meant love.

It all ended on his birthday a year ago. His work buddies reserved the back room at a local pub and she got the word out to all his friends. It was a big, loud, happy bash. Theo caught some ribbing for the fifty pounds he’d put on that year, but Julianne was always right by his side. He fed on her confident smile, enough to take the joking in stride and happily nosh his way through the evening. By closing time he was packed full of food, cake, and beer, and Julianne laughed as a couple of his friends joked about needing a forklift to get him home.

He really waddled the whole way, and Julianne was mesmerized. She guided him through their front door and down the hall toward the bedroom. There, she gleefully stripped him and gave his great belly a wobble. He groaned dramatically, but she felt like he’d have room soon enough.

“Get settled,” she whispered to him. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She dashed to the kitchen and pulled a thick lemon cake from the fridge. It was Theo’s favorite: dense lemony layer cake with inch-thick frosting. She’d wanted it for the party, but got outvoted over the cheaper and more crowd-friendly Krispy Kreme donut cake. Theo didn’t seem to mind; and now, she thought, he would be thrilled. His all-time favorite dessert, brought to him by his (fat)loving girlfriend as a joyful overindulgence for his big, hungry belly. It had been a great night so far, and this, she knew, would finally make all of her encouragements sink in. This would show him that she loved him, all of him, and that it was okay to eat and be fat, fat, fat. “Okay?” She chuckled to herself, “way more than okay.” She carried the cake to the bedroom with a smile. Tonight Theo would let go. This would be the end of his inhibitions, and she would be the proud and happy girlfriend of a big, fat, happy boy.

She sat on the bed next to her beached lover. He was dozing, his hands resting on his belly, a slight tremble rippling across his flesh with each breath. “Happy Birthday, baby.” Her voice was soft, warm, and husky; he woke with a piggish snort and then smiled and turned to her.

She smiled back and held up the cake. “Ready for more, fatty?”

But Theo’s smile disappeared. He glared at her. “Jesus, Jules…” He leaned back. He started to roll away, and winced; still too stuffed to move easily.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been eating all night. You seriously want me to eat more?”

“It’s your favorite—”

“I mean what are you doing?”

“I—You seemed so happy. I thought you were having fun.”

“I shouldn’t— Jesus, you know I shouldn’t eat like this. I mean I eat like this because I can’t help it. Because you let me. Because… I don’t know. I don’t know why I eat so much but I always figured a girlfriend would at least try to reign me in.”

“But you love the lemon cake.”

“Who feeds fat people? Can’t you see I have a problem?”

“I don’t think you have a problem.”

“Because you’re a fucking pervert! I swear it’s like you’re trying to kill me!”

It stung like a slap in the face and her mouth fell open in shock. A chill crept down her spine and froze her insides. She wanted to vomit, to punch him, to run away, but she couldn’t move.

He stared at her; she was frozen and dumb. “Don’t feed me,” he hissed, “it’s sick.”

She still didn’t move, and he lost it. “Get it out of here!”

Julianne gestured a big comic explosion, “Boom! Lemon cake everywhere.” Daniel couldn’t help but smile; she sniffed and grabbed a fresh tissue. “The End.” Then she blew her nose. This time Daniel giggled. She looked at him. “What.”

“No. Nothing. That’s messed up.”

“You’re the first person I’ve told that to.”

“What a prick.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill him.”

“I know.”

“I’m not trying to kill anyone.”

“His hangups are his. It’s not fair to lay them on you.”

“He really did seem happy.”

“Look. You were honest with him, and he wasn’t honest back. Personally, I’d love getting two birthday cakes.”

She smiled at him. “I’ve half starved you tonight.”

“Only half.”

She sighed, and fell into him. He was plush, and she loved it.

“I’m not like Theo,” he said.

“I won’t make that mistake again,” she whispered back. Then Daniel’s belly gave an insistent rumble. Half starved is only half full, after all. Julianne looked up at him. “It’s wings night at Jacob’s. All you can eat.”

Daniel nodded. “Jacob’s…" He opened the carton of milk and took a big swig. "That’s next to that gelato place, right?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded happily.

“Well then,” Daniel started back in on the cookies, "how about I finish up here, and we hit the town?”

"Yeah," she smiled, "yeah, okay."
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Old 08-17-2013, 03:44 PM   #20
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Very sweet and sensual story! Hurrah for two people who know what they want and a big rude gesture to F'n Theo.
I yam what I yam.
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Old 08-21-2013, 01:04 PM   #21
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Very fun read as I enjoyed the last few parts.
Theo brought reality to the story; as there are a lot of guilt-tripping, self-hating fatties out there.
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Old 08-27-2013, 02:52 AM   #22
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This is a perfect story. Thank you so, so much for writing it.
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Old 05-18-2014, 01:17 PM   #23
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Now that, was amazing!
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Old 01-06-2015, 06:07 AM   #24
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Default oh my ....

this julie is a hot girl and this was an interesting story
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Old 01-07-2016, 01:38 PM   #25
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fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!fat hiker has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!

Great story - sorry I didn't spot it sooner.
"Eat, Eat! You will gain weight and be more attractive!"
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