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|07-25-2007, 09:15 AM||#1|
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: Muy Caliente
A Shy Little Girl Changes - by Anonymous (SSBBW, Extreme Eating, Realistic ~XWG)
SSBBW, Extreme Eating, Realistic ~XWG - Weight gain chronicled over the course of a relationship.
A Shy Little Girl Changes
She then told me that she had called Candy, a former date of mine. Candy was a nice person, but she was shy. I preferred shy girls, but Candy was almost comatose. All of my questions were met with one word answers. She was also the thinnest girl I dated. I didn't mind that too much since she was busty, and gave the illusion of being big.
“Maybe you can date her again,” Mary, my sister, said. “She's not fat like your other dates, but she has breasts. I told her she should go on a diet. Maybe she's lost them by now.”
I then told my sister that not every adult woman enjoys wearing training bras like she did. Before I could finish with I don't think so, she told me that she already called Candy, and that she would expect me to call her. I changed the subject, and almost forgot about it.
I did call Candy the next night. I figured that she was so shy, that if I suggested that we didn't meet, she wouldn't care. But I was wrong. She couldn't talk for long (she never did anyway), but she was quite insistent on meeting. I didn't not enjoy her company, but it was nothing special. I figured it would be easier to meet her than to get out of it at that point, so we set up a meeting.
I went to her house, and was met with several surprises. She was around 190 pounds or so. She was even bustier than before, and her stomach, midriff and butt had grown also. But even more surprising was her personality. She had gone from comatose to almost bubbly. She invited me in, and I smelled dinner cooking. She told me that she didn't want to embarrass me by making me take a fat woman to a restaurant.
As we ate, I asked her what was new since I had last seen her, which had probably been a year or so. She told me that my sister had suggested that she diet, and she tried. She said that each time she lost weight, she would regain that, plus more. She told me that she was sorry that she was so fat, since she knew I preferred thin women.
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
"Well, since your sister kept telling me to get thinner, I thought it was because she knew what you liked."
I told her that was what my sister liked.
I then commented that she seemed more confident and happy.
"Well, you probably won't believe this, but that was as a result of my weight gain,” Candy replied. I looked at her puzzled, and she explained. "Well, I never went clothes shopping for myself - my mother always did it for me. It was hard for me to say no, so I wore everything she bought. But when I split the seam on my dress, I had to go out and buy my own clothes. And now, my mother doesn't know anything about the larger sizes, or even what size I wear, so I do all of my shopping.
“And then there are those men who stare at me. When men used to look at my breasts, I used to hide and cringe. When I started gaining, and they got even bigger, one time I got so flustered, I flirted. Well, it was fun. So now when men look at these, I flirt. Sometimes they flirt back, at other times they look disgusted, but I don't care anymore."
I was extremely surprised that she not only referred to her own body, but picked up her breasts when she did.
“Plus, I used to blend in with the woodwork. Nobody noticed me. Now that I'm bigger, I get noticed more. But that brings me to something I wanted to say. I took your sister up on meeting you because I was anxious to show you my new personality. At least you'll always remember me now differently. But I want to get a little bigger. Even though you say your sister likes thin women, I'm sure your tastes run pretty much the same. I know all of my brothers and sisters have pretty much the same opinions. “
I was reluctant to tell her of my real preferences, since she was still about 150 pounds lighter than most of the women I’d dated. I was also in a state of surprise after seeing how she changed. But I was able to tell her again that my sister and I didn't agree on everything. In addition. I was more impressed by her personality change than her physical change.
I was curious why she wanted to gain more. After I asked her, she said, "I know you'll never understand, and that's why I invited you here. I didn't want to embarrass you in public or have you spend money on me. But even if I don't please anyone but me, that's what I want."
I then told her that I was having a great time, and if she was too, I would ask her out again. I also told her that she didn't embarrass me, and the next time I would take her to the mall.
I told her that it seems everyone was talking about diets, and it was unusual to hear about someone wanting to gain.
"I just have some unfinished business," she said. "I want to make sure that I'm large enough so that my mother can never figure out what size I am, or find any clothes in her size range. I feel that I need to be a little bigger to be noticed. And I want to get a little bigger up here," as she held her breasts with her hands.
"Are you a breast man?" she asked. I almost dropped the soda out of my hand when she asked me that. She had been so asexual in the past, and here she was trying to incite me.
I was so caught up in the mood, that I gave an honest answer, which was also out of character for me. "Yes, I prefer busty women, and I find your’s quite attractive." I thought that would end it there, but it got worse.
"So, do you like them better now?"
I told her that I liked them better, and that I liked larger women to smaller ones. As I was explaining it, she got closer to me, and turned so that her breasts were touching me.
"So why did you have your sister tell me to diet?"
I told her that I never did. I told Candy that my sister thought every woman should be as thin as she is. "As a matter of fact, she didn't approve of my dates because they were too fat. That's why she tried to hook us up together. She thought you got smaller. Boy, is she going to be surprised."
"Well, actually she is the reason I got bigger. As I said, every time I tried to diet I got bigger."
I told her that I was sorry, but she said that SHE wasn't. "I'm having the time of my life since I've gained.
"So, you really don't mind if I gain a little more?" Candy asked. Between her rubbing her breasts against me, and telling me that she wanted to gain, I was having a hard time keeping my cool. "I want to be about 210--maybe 220. That's about 20 or 30 pounds. But I gained the first 60 pounds by dieting. I want to have fun now. I've stocked my fridge and cupboards. So, how big were the women you dated?"
"Oh, around 300. Some were bigger, some were smaller."
Candy gasped, "Three hundred? I don't want to get that big." Then she got a great big grin. "Well, I was a C cup. I was happy when I grew to a D cup. If I got that big I might be a double D, maybe even an F. Well an hour ago, I was afraid that I would be too big for you. You put my fears to rest, but now I feel that I'm too small for you."
I told her not to worry. I told her she was fine as she was, and with the extra 30 pounds she would be a knockout to me.
"So, tell me more about these large women you dated. Were they big when you met them, or did they get bigger after you met them?"
I told her that all of the women had been big all of their lives, but some of the women had gained some of their weight while I was dating.
"Weren't you afraid that they would keep gaining and get too big for you? Did you try to help them diet?"
I told her that many men who like fat women like to watch women gain.
"Yeah?" she exclaimed enthusiastically.
I said, "Yes."
"Are you one of those men?" she asked.
I gave her another one word, "Yes," and then thought that it was funny that I was answering in the one-word answers that she used to use.
"So what exactly do you like? I've never heard of that."
"Well, since some men like large women, and find then physically attractive, they get turned on by watching getting bigger. As a matter of fact, some men like to try to feed women to encourage them to gain. But I couldn't do that. If a woman wanted to gain, or couldn't help gaining that's OK."
"So, what exactly turns you on?"
I told my turn-ons were new rolls of fat, stretch marks, tight and tearing clothes.
"Well, it's too bad you weren't with me a few weeks ago. I popped a button on my blouse in public. I was embarrassed. It was right after I started wearing D cups."
It was getting late. Candy told me that she intended to see me only one time. "I didn't think you would want to see me again."
I told her that I had planned on seeing her only once, also, but that I would really enjoy seeing her again.
We had made plans to meet again on the weekend.
"Maybe I'll be bigger," she said. "I'm going shopping tomorrow night, and like I said, I intend to have fun gaining my last 20 or 30 pounds."
I told her that I would enjoy her bigger or smaller.
I was really looking forward to seeing her; we had hit it off real well. I enjoyed her discussions about her size, and it was fun telling her about FAs, since she didn't know about them. I was also thinking how much fun it would be to watch her grow, but then I thought that even after she gained her 30 pounds, she would still be 100 or so pounds thinner than most of the women I’ve dated.
When we met, she came to the door in clothes that were too tight. "These were the last size I outgrew," she said. "But they're even tighter now."
I could see that the seams were really straining, and the buttons were about to pop.
"Is this what turns you on?" she asked.
I told her yes, but a total FA would prefer for a woman to outgrow her current size, and not her past size.
"Well, you weren't around when I outgrew these. And besides I'm working on outgrowing my current clothes." She invited me in, and showed me all of the candy and ice cream she had bought. "I've already started eating. But it'll be a while for it to show. But," she said, "If it turns you on to see me outgrow my clothes, I'll always have my new size on, instead of my old. How can that excite you?"
I told her that actually there were a number of steps. "As a matter of fact, loose clothes can turn on an FA."
"How can that be?" she asked.
"Well, when women are gaining, once they outgrow their clothes, sometimes they get real loose-fitting clothes because they are gaining so much, that they need extra room. Some women will buy large clothes to excite their man."
"Did anyone do that for you?"
I told her as a matter of fact, one woman I knew who weighed 350 pounds was gaining so much, she got some dresses in size 60, figuring she could get as big as 400 pounds without having to buy another wardrobe.
"Wow! Did she ever get that big?"
"Actually, she got up to about 450 a year later. I remember how she held it out when it was too big. When she hit around 415, she ripped the zipper right out." Candy asked what size she got after that.
"Well, now there are a few catalogs that go up to size 70. But back then, she had to have her clothes custom made.”
Candy was really curious. "What’s it like to be that big? What do clothes look like at that size? What was her bra size?"
I told her that she had been big all of her life, so she was used to gaining. The catalog clothes were big tent dresses. When the clothes were made for her, they were made for gaining. They had a lot of stretchy fabric, and a lot of pleats. They fit when she first got them, and they still fit 50 pounds later, kind of like maternity clothes. Some women that size quit wearing bras, since their breasts are just another roll of fat. Some women try to wear regular bras. Others just wear giant training bras that just keep stretching.
"And you liked women that big?"
I was deep in thought, and gave a great big smile, and said "Yes."
"Are you sure you're going to be happy with me?" she said sternly. “It seems that you like women really big. I'm barely a size 20. I'm going to be a 22, and that's it!”
It was the first time she got firm about her size. I guess it was a combination of hearing about a 450 pound lady, and my enthusiasm in explaining it.
I changed the subject. "So we mentioned going to the mall, is that OK?"
"Yeah," she said. "I was impressed that you would take a 190-pound woman in public. But I guess I should really be impressed that you would be seen with someone that thin!"
I told her that she didn't have to get any bigger.
"No, I want to get a little bigger. Let's stop in Lane Bryant to find a size 22 dress. If you take me to the size 60 rack, I'll leave," she said jokingly.
I told her that the stores don't go beyond 28 or 30, so she didn't have to worry.
We went to the mall, and ate at Friendly's. Since she seemed upset about hearing about women gaining, I didn't push dessert, especially since she had a milk shake. But she ordered the largest sundae they had, anyway.
We then went to Lane Bryant. She picked out a drab-looking tent dress in size 22. She tried it on, came out of the dressing room, and asked how I liked it. I told her that I liked it a lot. Actually I loved it because it was so typical of a "fat woman's dress." I figured if she didn't want to get real fat, at least she would look like it.
We went home, and she went upstairs, put on her new dress, and came back down. It was loose on her, but not too loose. Her breasts were noticeable under the dress. She modeled it, and held out the fabric. "I love being this size."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yes, I just don't want you to like 450- pound women. I want to be appealing to you."
She opened the candy dish and started to eat. "Well, how much did these 400-pound women eat?" she asked.
I told her that I only dated two. One of them didn't eat too much, but her metabolism was screwed up by dieting. The other one ate a lot because she wanted to attract men who liked her really big.
"Why would she do that?" Candy asked.
I told her that most men like thin women, but those that like big women, like them really big. When women are too big for men liking thin women, they find that it's easier to get bigger than thinner. In addition, if she started to lose, she wouldn't be attractive until she was thin, while men will date a medium-sized woman if she started to gain.
Candy and I had been getting really close. It was hard to believe that we had dated before with no feelings for each other.
Several weeks later after our trip to Lane Bryant, Candy wanted to go again. I asked her if she was going to get some more 22 dresses.
"Well, actually it won't be too long until I need those, but I do need some bras now. I'm a 40D these days."
It seemed small compared to the 50s that I was used to, and I thought it was a shame that there is where her bra size stopped.
We went home after a hearty meal at the food court. Candy went upstairs and put on one of her new bras. She came downstairs with the button straining on her blouse. Her breasts looked fuller and more beautiful than ever. She loved her silhouette in the new bra. She then went upstairs and put on her size 22 tent dress. I loved the way she looked, even though she was twiggy compared to the other women I dated.
Story continued in post 2 of this thread
|07-25-2007, 09:26 AM||#2|
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: Muy Caliente
I told her that she looked great at her final weight.
"Well, actually the bra cup is just a little loose. If I put on four or five more pounds, it'll fit just right. And besides, this dress is pretty loose." She was having a lot of fun eating, and she hadn't slowed, so I didn't know if she'd be able to stop easily.
The next night, she wanted to go to Lane Bryant again, since she needed to complete her size 22 wardrobe. We looked at all of the size 22s, but she only picked out large, flowing tent dresses. I loved her selections, since they all made her look larger than she really was. We went to the food court again, where she ate even more than normal.
Several weeks passed, and she continued her eating. Her breasts filled out nicely, and her bra fit perfectly. However, she was asking more and more questions about the women I dated. She wanted to know how fast they gained, how much they ate, whether men really liked large women. When she started asking me more about the size women I liked, I asked her, "Why, you're not thinking of getting any bigger, are you?"
She had tears in her eyes as she confessed that she couldn't stop eating. She had tried, but found it impossible. "What am I going to do?" she asked.
"Well, you're probably asking the wrong person," I told her.
"Why's that?" she asked.
"Because while I respect anyone's right to be the size they want to be, I find it hard to encourage anyone to stop gaining, when I find it attractive."
"But I find it scary to be on the other side of the fence. It seems that thin is in, and nobody wants to be fat. I enjoyed being a little fat, but not too fat."
I told her that it was her choice. I also told her that there is a big subculture of fat people. She told me that she didn't understand it, or how to be part of it.
As it was getting late, I told her to think it over. She could try to stop eating, and I would help her as best I could. Or, if she couldn’t or didn’t want to, I would introduce her into the world of fatness. We kissed good night, and I went home.
The next night, I picked her up. I asked her if she had given any thought to what I’d said.
"Yes," she said. "I've made up my mind.”
"Well?" I coaxed.
She walked over to the refrigerator, and opened the freezer door to show off her afternoon shopping - six different kinds of ice cream. She also had several bags of candy. "Something to keep me busy while you tell me about the world I'm about to enter."
I had brought all of the newsletters of the fat rights organization that I belonged to, as well as ads of things for large people. She looked at all of the pictures of the large women, and asked questions about each one. "How much does she weigh?" "What's her dress size?" "Did she gain a lot in the past few years?"
Candy then started to cry. "I can't believe that I'm eating all this crap."
I started to touch her. I touched her breasts and other areas of flesh more than I had planned, but she loved it.
"Do you really like my body like this?"
I told her that I did.
She then asked me if I would like it if she got as big as the women in the pictures. I told her, "Yes."
"Do you think that my breasts will get as big as the women in the pictures?"
I started touching her breasts and told her that I thought they may get bigger.
"Would you come shopping with me, when I have to get bigger dresses?"
We were touching more and more as we talked. She reached over to the candy dish, but couldn't reach it. I picked up some candy. At first I put in her hand, but then I started feeding her. About a half an hour later, she got up and took out a half gallon container of ice cream and a spoon, and ate out of the box. For the first time, I knew that she may not be the smallest woman I dated for long.
My sister had called me, and asked how it was going with Candy. She asked me if she was still chubby. I told her, no I guess I couldn't call her chubby. "Good," she said. I didn't feel like correcting her. She invited us to dinner at her place, and I told her that I would check with Candy.
I brought it up with Candy; she was a little afraid.
"What if your sister talks you out of dating a woman like me?"
I told her that she hadn't changed me in years, and she wouldn't start now. She agreed.
Candy was filling out her size 22 tent dresses and her stretch pants out nicely. She was about 240 by now, well over her "goal weight" of 220. She spent less time worrying about getting bigger.
On the day that we were going to my sister's, Candy wanted to go to the mall. "I need to check out the 24s," she said.
I could tell that her breasts were getting squished in her dress, and that her arms were tight in the sleeves. Her tummy had managed to fill out most of the slack. "I hate going to your sister's looking like this."
I invited her into my walk-in closet, and pulled down a bag of donated clothes for our next clothing sale. I told her that they were all 52's, but maybe something would look OK. She tried several things on, and I had to control myself from wasting too much time, since she looked so good in the big clothes. She finally picked out a dress that was supposed to be form-fitting, but passed for a tent dress on Candy.
"These are really nice clothes, why would anyone give these away?"
I told her that the previous owner was over 400 pounds now. She thought she'd use them again, but now she knows she'll never be that small again.
We got to my sister's. As usual, my sister wasn't afraid to say anything. "I thought you said she wasn't chubby anymore."
I asked her if she would call Candy chubby.
"You got a point there," she said. She served fish and other diet food. "It looks like he's really fattening you up."
Candy then told her that she gained the weight from dieting, and lowering her metabolism. "It seems that the person who tried to thin me down actually fattened me up." That kind of shut my sister up for the rest of the night.
"Well, that's over with," I told Candy.
Candy told me that she would rather be a fat person than a thin bitch. I was glad that she felt that way. "What an awful meal. No dessert or anything." We stopped at Friendly's. I had some ice cream, while Candy had a whole meal, and a large dessert. I had noticed that her tummy was about to meet the edge of the table. "I'm so hungry, I may eat enough to fill out this dress," she told me. She bought an ice cream roll on the way out, and ate it all when we got home.
The next day, we went to the mall. We stopped at several large-size shops. "I kind of like the tent dresses, because it's harder to outgrow them, but I didn't see very many, and none of them appealed to me." So she bought some regular dresses. We stopped for ice cream on the way home, despite having ice cream at the mall. It was hard to believe that at one time she had been worried about gaining too much.
She modeled her new clothes for me. I liked them, since they showed off more of her growing body than her tent dresses. Her breasts were especially attractive to me.
We were getting closer. I thought that her appetite would slow down after the initial freedom of eating what she wanted, but if anything it was getting more voracious. Candy was getting very hyper. I had a talk with her, and she said that it was the combination of our relationship getting stronger, and the physical changes she was going through.
In only a few months, she had outgrown her size 24 clothes. She had hit the 250 pound mark. She even had to adjust her car seat to keep her growing tummy from hitting the steering wheel. On one of our trips to the mall, she spent over an hour at one of the stores. It seems that she had outgrown her panties and bras. She came out of the dressing room to ask what I thought of a sweater she had tried on. I told her that I liked it very much. I talked her into buying it, and on the way home talked her into wearing it when we got home.
She went upstairs, and put on her new sweater. I told her that I really liked it, and that it looked great on her.
"I know why you like it," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"It's not the sweater, it's what I have under it." I looked at her a little puzzled. "I'm a double D now, a 44 double D. They're getting so big, they are starting to droop. It's hard to believe that I used to be embarrassed to be a C. Now I'm flaunting double D's!"
I spent the rest of the night with my hands on her, and she spent the rest of the night with her hands in the candy dish working on gaining to the next size.
Her body was continuing to undergo changes. I was used to seeing her breasts, midriff, tummy and hips get bigger, but now new rolls were beginning to form. Her back was starting to get chubby, as her wide bra back had a small roll above it, and her sides were getting rolls. The biggest was on the side of her breasts under her arm.
I was sitting next to her on the couch as she was eating a large bowl of ice cream. "Where did your old girlfriends get their clothes?" she asked.
I told her that most of them got them from catalogs.
"How do I get them?" she asked.
I told her that the fat rights organization published a list. I got an old newsletter and showed it to Candy. Candy took the list home and returned it the next day. I was thrilled that she wanted to read it, but was afraid to say much, since it may upset her.
Several weeks later, after a meal out, when we got home, Candy got out about ten catalogs she had ordered. I asked her if she was thinking of ordering.
"Well, I really don't have much of a choice. Besides my lunch, I must have bought two or three candy bars from the machine at work. I got home, and had a snack waiting for you. We then went out to dinner, and I had a milkshake with the meal, and a sundae for dessert. Now, we're home, and I'm eating a bowl of ice cream. It looks like I'll be in supersizes pretty soon. I hadn't planned on it, but I'm having a lot of fun eating and being with you.”
She looked at several catalogs. She pointed out items that went to size 70. She also spent a long time looking at bras. She pointed out bras with F & G cups, and those with band sizes in the 50s.
I told her that she was only a size 26, and asked why she was looking at such large sizes.
"Well, I'm at least a 28 now, and as fast as I'm gaining--I feel like a supersize woman. Time passes so quickly. In a year or two I'll be wearing really big clothes-I'm kind of psyching myself up for it. I don't know if I'll love it or hate it--but I'll be ready for it."
Winter was coming, and the days were getting colder. Candy had suggested that we spend more time at home, instead of eating out. Since we felt really comfortable with each other, it was no problem with me. I thought that since she had gotten in the habit of eating out, plus having a meal at home, she might be eating less, since she would have only the meal at home. But she would have dinner ready when I came to her house. At first she would cook a little snack around 10 o'clock. But it kept getting bigger and bigger until it became another full meal. And, of course, she would continue to have ice cream and other snack foods between.
She hit 300 pounds, and was now wearing a size 30 dress. After her first meal, she would unbutton her dress as we sat down to watch TV. "I feel so stuffed," she would say. Before her second dinner, she would put on a stretchy night gown or teddy. She told me how much more comfortable she was.
"Do you still have that dress that I wore to your sister's?" she asked me.
I told her that I did.
"Would you mind bringing it over? I need something to relax in."
I brought it the next day. She ran up to put it on, but her growing body had filled it out. It was still a little loose in the stomach area, but her breasts had pushed out the top as far as it was meant to go.
She then asked me when the next clothing sale was for our group.
"Why?" I asked.
“Well, I want to buy a bunch of things.”
I told her that I could sell them for a dollar a piece, since the items were leftovers, anyway.
"Good," Candy said. “Let's meet at your house tomorrow, and I'll go through them.”
I warned her that they were leftovers, and not all that great. She told me that she had ordered some new clothes for work, but she wanted some things for home.
"I'm always afraid I'll buy a new dress, and spill food on it. I didn't used to spill much, but lately. . ."
I asked her if she was getting clumsy in her old age.
"No, I guess I'm constantly spilling food on me because I'm constantly eating."
The next night when she came over, I took out all of the clothes, and dumped them on the bed. I told her that I didn't think there was much in a 30.
"That's good, because I'm a 32 now." My heart was beating faster. She had to be well over 300 now. "I also got a new bra, a 48DD." She then got a little closer, and squeezed her breasts against me. "I only got one. Do you want to know why?" I looked puzzled. "The cups were tight. I had to order some 48Fs from the catalog."
She picked up the clothes, and held them against her. Some were much bigger than she was, but not that many, and not that much bigger. She picked up one dress, that had to be at least a size 60, but it looked very childish. "Who would wear this?"
"Oh that was Melissa's. It's probably about 10 years old. She's the daughter of one of our members. She was only 12 when she wore that."
"My goodness," Candy said. “She was that big when she was 12?"
"Yes, she's a member of our group now. She was 400 pounds. She has since quit dieting and she's about 550 now, but she's really pretty. All of the guys are after her."
She picked out about 10 items--dresses, pants, and tops. As she handed me the money, I teasingly asked her if she wanted a bag. She told me that she wanted to wear a pair of pants and a top now. As she took off her clothes, I admired her figure. Her panties were tight, and didn't reach to her waist. I noticed some new stretch marks on the flesh hanging over her panties.
After she slipped on her new stretch pants, she showed me her new bra before she put on her top. The back fit well, but there was some flesh hanging over the cups. It seemed that each new bra had thicker and wider straps.
Even though it was early still, I could tell that she was starving. I wasn't much of a cook, so I made her several TV dinners. As she sat on the couch ready to eat, I noticed that she had to spread her legs out further to make room for her growing tummy. It took her a little while to get comfortable. She used to just adjust her clothes as she sat down, but now she was actually adjusting her rolls.
Several days later when I went to her house, I noticed that her new bras had come. She opened them while I was there. They were big - not only the cups, but the back, the sides, and the straps. She took off her blouse and tried to put one on, but she was having trouble. It had seven hooks in the back, and the strap adjusters were unlike any I had seen. It took us about 15 minutes to get everything hooked and adjusted, but it was worth the wait. She could sense my excitement. She looked great.
It was getting to be late winter, and we were all looking towards spring. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners had now become a permanent part of Candy's body. She was a size 56, and was about as big as anyone I had dated. We were getting along well, but I was having a few private doubts. Had I created a monster? I never thought that there was a "too big." It was one thing to fantasize, but another to live it out. Where would it all end? Maybe a 300-pound woman could be healthy, but what about 500?
I remember the fat rights group that I belonged to that preached that fat people were not slobs, and they didn't overeat. Candy was always overeating. She was even becoming somewhat of a slob. She wore the used dresses, and was always spilling food on herself. She had almost started waddling.
Story continued in post 3 of this thread
|07-25-2007, 09:31 AM||#3|
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: Muy Caliente
But then I gave it some more thought. It felt erotic to meet someone who was even too big for me; someone who broke all the rules. I thought of Melissa, and how popular she was at 550. I thought about how I always wanted to date someone who was over 400, and that perhaps Candy would be the one. Maybe she would even be bigger.
While Candy had been firm, as she hit 375, she was really getting flabby. Her butt was getting so many dimples that her stretch pants had started to reveal them. Her breasts started to hang over her midriff, and her tummy started to sag over the top of her legs. As she took steps, her legs would hit her tummy, causing her to jiggle all over.
As summer came, we spent almost as much time inside as we did in the winter. Candy and I were watching TV. She was engrossed in the bucket of chicken she was eating, and the TV show. I looked at her in her massive tent dress, and any doubts in my mind disappeared. She looked so pretty with her long pigtails draped over her breasts which were draped over her midriff. She didn't see me admire her, as she passed two milestones--a size 60 dress and 400 pounds.
I thought back to when we first met, and she thought I would think she was too fat at half her current size. There was no doubt in my mind that I not only wanted Candy, but I wanted a super-supersized woman.
It was fun helping her pick out her clothes in the catalogs. She had quit ordering stretch pants. She complained that they were just too tight around the waist. Part of it was because she was gaining so fast, but it was also because she had become so flabby it was hard for her pants to go up to her tummy, and then back down to where it sagged in front, and back up again to her waist. While I enjoyed the jiggling and dimples, I could see her not wanting to show the public.
So basically, she wore tent dresses. On the inside, her rolls could overlap her other rolls, and the outside of the dress just hung straight down on her. And of course, she could add to the rolls without constantly buying new clothes.
As time went on, my thoughts went from wondering if she would get too big, to liking the way she had gained, to really hoping she could get much bigger. I tried to fantasize her getting bigger, but she was so big, I couldn't picture her any bigger. I looked at the catalogs, wondering if she would be a size 70.
Candy asked me what I thought of her gaining, and asked if I thought she was too big. I admitted that for a short time I wondered, but now I liked her size.
"Would you like me to get any bigger?" she asked me. I told her that I would really like it, but that I couldn't imagine what she would look like.
"I'll tell you," she said. "My tummy will be out to here."
As she sat, she put her hand to her knees. She then started to stand up, which wasn't as quick as it used to be. "When I stand, it will go down to here." She had to push her tent dress against her legs to show where her tummy was now. As she sat back down, she held her dress up, so she wouldn't sit on it. When she sat down, she raised it up to expose her tummy. "And my breasts will probably come down to here. How does that sound to you?” she asked.
“Wonderful,” I said.
"Well, I think I was too small for you when we met, but before I'm done gaining, you won't be able to say that. How does it feel to meet your fantasy?" she asked.
All I could do was hug her, though it was hard to get my arms around her.
The familiar catalogs such as Lane Bryant had disappeared a while ago. She was now ordering exclusively from the catalogs where they make the clothes as you order them. She was a size 62. I was never close to anyone who was over a size 60, so I know that Candy was now "the fattest girl I dated."
Since it was summer, she was wearing sleeveless tent dresses. Her arms were especially large proportionally, so I enjoyed seeing them. She was probably the only woman I know that had stretch marks on her arms.
Going through the 400's started just like the 300's. It seemed like I would say she's almost ... then she's ... then a little over. But now she's firmly in the 400's at about 415. When she hit 300, there was a definite change in the shape of her body. The same thing was also happening at 400. While her breasts kept growing, they were less noticeable, since they were growing down instead of out. Her tummy was becoming the most noticeable part of her. It had protruded out a couple of feet beyond her face. Her measurements had become 65-59-74.
Her appetite hadn't diminished at all. It seemed each time I saw her there was a part of her that seemed bigger than the last time. I couldn't imagine what she would look like as she grew, but now I was finding out. It's like waiting until the next day to see the puzzle solution in the paper.
She was having problems finding clothes, and even when she found some things that fit, it didn't take her long to outgrow them. She had no problems with her dresses. But she didn't have much to wear around the house. She had outgrown many of the cheap clothes I had sold her. She had started making her own clothes for around the house. They weren't too good, since she had to make them without patterns. We spent less and less time going out, so most of our time together was around the house.
As she got bigger, it took her longer to get her clothes adjusted as she stood and sat. At first, she would try to be discreet, but it was getting harder and harder. So she quit trying to be discreet, and sat there pulling her dress out from between her rolls.
As she approached 430, she was about to outgrow her 62F bra. She asked me what the women do after that. I told her that I wasn't sure. I told her that she could call up Melissa and ask her. She called Melissa the next night, who told her that she quit wearing bras. Candy seemed shocked, but then gave it some thought. She said that she started wearing tent dresses to hide her rolls of fat, so that nobody would see what she had in there. She said, “Well, I guess they'll just be two more pieces of fat hidden under the dress.”
She then seemed disappointed, and was frowning. “I loved when these were the center of attention. That was one reason why I started to get fat. Now they're hidden. “
As we headed for bed and she was taking off her dress, I started to touch them. I then gently pulled one straight out until all 18 inches of it pointed out instead of down. "They're still the center of my attraction," I told her. That made her happy.
"Okay, I'll hide them from everyone else," she said.
It was hard to believe that fall and the cool weather was around again. Candy was still eating two meals at night, plus snacking most of the evening. At different times, we had both had doubts about her gaining so much, but now we were both comfortable with it. She loved to eat, and loved being the center of attention. We didn't go out too much, but she really enjoyed it when we did. A lot of heads turned, but she flirted with the men. I didn't mind, since I knew it was her way of showing her confidence.
She hit around 450 by the end of the year. It was hard to believe that I wasn't sure if anything over 300 would okay. I loved watching her eat, and watching her grow.
She had gotten a new catalog, and was ordering some dresses. She had noticed some stretch pants, and asked what I thought. I was a little disappointed, since I really liked the way she looked in tent dresses. However, she told me that she hadn't seen pants in her size in a year or so, and she wanted to try them. She ordered a top to wear with them.
Since they had to make them to order, it took almost a month to get them. "I hope the material is pretty stretchy," she said. "I've gained a few pounds since I sent for them, and I haven't even had my Christmas dinner yet."
When they came, she tried them on. They looked really great on her to anyone who was an FA. The top wasn't near long enough to cover her sagging tummy, which drooped way below the bottom of her top. The pants showed off her very large upper legs. She liked them, even though she knew they revealed more than she wanted to show.
We had a private Christmas, and she cooked dinner. After spending over an hour eating everything on the table, she said she was really stuffed. She pulled her tummy out of her pants to feel more comfortable. I teased her, and said that it was a good idea that we didn't eat out. She told me that she wouldn't wear those pants in public, anyway.
She told me that she was glad she had ordered the pants, since she could use them for her before picture. I asked her if she planned to diet.
"Diet?" she said. "Hell no. When I'm done gaining, everyone's going to be astonished that I used to be this small." She then started laughing, and asked if she scared me.
I told her that I liked her, and would still like her if she got small.
“Well, I may try to taper off after I hit 500. But if I don't, I don't. I'm not going to worry about it, and I'm certainly not going to diet. I'm still not too big for you, am I?" she asked.
I was daydreaming about her being 500, and I didn't answer.
"Well?" she said. "Am I too big?"
"Oh no," I said. "I was just thinking about how great you'll look. Do you really plan to get that big?"
"It's less than 50 pounds away," she said. "You've seen me gain 250 pounds. I doubt if I'll have any trouble with 50 more."
Our relationship was getting more and more serious; it seemed that marriage crept into talks once in a while. We talked more and more, until we planned on getting married in the summer. She wasn't much for a big church wedding, since she would have to find a size 70 wedding dress, and she didn't want to walk down an aisle. We talked about going to Las Vegas, but she didn't want to fly at her size. So we decided to get married at home.
We then got into a discussion about where we would live. We talked about building a house.
"Good,” she said. “We can make it comfortable for a person of my size."
I hadn't given it much thought, but she was quite large. We hired an architect. We decided that all doors would be 36" wide, with wide hallways. It would all be on one floor, so she wouldn't have to climb any steps. When we started to think about the kitchen, we wondered if there was anything special we should do. She told me that she wanted a double size refrigerator, and plenty of food storage. She also wanted large closets.
Spring was coming, and she was about 475. She looked thorough the catalogs as she was ordering some size 66 dresses. I loved it when they came. When she unpacked them, it reminded me of someone unfolding a drop cloth, they were so big. But what seemed like so many feet of cloth, turned into just a couple extra inches of loose cloth once she put it on.
Inside the box was another catalog. She was looking at it when her face lit up. "There it is!" she said. “That’s the dress I want to be married in!”
It was a very stylish tent dress. She ordered it that night.
When it came, she looked at it; I asked her if she was going to try it on.
“Well, I guess I can see what I look like in it. It's a size 70, so it should be the right size in the summer.”
Even being two sizes too big, it looked great on her.
The house was coming along fine; we would be in it right after our wedding. Spring was going by fast; Candy continued gaining, but it seemed that it was even faster. On a week before the wedding, Candy put the dress back on. It didn't fit well. Her stomach pushed the front out beyond where it was meant to go. It was tight in the back, and her breasts were so tight, her nipples showed.
She couldn't get another one, so she ate very lightly for a week before the wedding. She was hoping that it would fit better, but it didn't - it fit about the same. She was a little upset, but I calmed her down, and she got married in her tight dress.
It was a good thing that we had a honeymoon planned at home, since she didn't have anything to wear until her size 72 dress came.
After the wedding, she continued to eat at her normal rate, but she was in for quite a surprise. Because she had fasted for a week, she was gaining even faster. She made a temporary dress out of a couple of sheets; it may have looked funny to anyone else, but it was the sexiest honeymoon attire I had seen, as I fondled my 505-pound wife.
|08-10-2012, 02:43 PM||#5|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Pensacola, Fl.
I loved this story and would love to read more along these lines in the future from you or other writers.
|10-31-2012, 09:55 PM||#6|
Join Date: Jul 2007
Good story. Long time after it was written...
Everyone please read "They must be stopped" by Brigitte Gabriel.