Bound Up In Bed
Here I am, all four pudgy limbs secured to the posts of a sturdy four poster king bed in an Hawaiian luxury hotel, my overstuffed belly mounded high in the air and my flag rising majestically from out of my FUPA and flying at full staff. My leggy and very naked wife Lana, all six feet of her, is standing at the foot of the bed taking a couple of pics of her 352 pound husband (at least that's what I weighed before we left home two weeks ago) to post on our Tumblr page.
"Our followers are going to eat this up," she said, "you look kind of like a straight Superchub Cowboy Pete, here take a look at how fat and sexy you are" and she brought her iPad closer to my face so I could see. I looked absolutely enormous with my big stretch-marked double belly, c-cup man boobs, pudgy thighs and arms, and round face and chubby cheeks resting atop a big nest of neck fat. Then Lana set down the iPad and lay her long and lean frame next to mine to snuggle up to my enormity. We presented such a marked physical contrast to each other physically, her a tall drink of water who looked like she could have been a mature fashion model, and me, a total blob who at 5′10″ was a couple of inches shorter and at least 225 pounds heavier than my bride. The contrast no doubt had been noticed by everyone at the resort's pool, where we had laid out in the sun every day during our stay and I could only imagine what they were thinking seeing the two of us so obviously in love and engaging in regular PDA's for all to see, wondering how such a babe could be with me.
As Lana lay beside me, she inserted her thumb deep into my belly button and spread her other four fingers southward to grasp as much of my sagging bottom roll as she could and started gently rocking my belly back and forth, sending little ripples and big seismic shocks alike throughout my ample flesh. "I just adore you Petey and how fat you've gotten over the last couple of years -- you're just such a sexy fatty!" Then she got a contemplative look on the face and added, "let's see, you weighed 352 pounds before we left and with all your gluttony while we've been in Hawaii, I bet you've added at least another fifteen pounds." "I know," I said, "the food here has been great and I just can't control my appetite!" Lana smiled adoringly and moved her hand further southward to start kneeding my testicles oh so sensually and whispered in my ear, "keep this up Fat Boy and you'll be 400 pounds by Easter." "You really think I could?," I asked with a hint of enthusiasm for the idea, and knowing full well that Easter was only six weeks away. Lana responded, quite lustily, "I KNOW you can baby, all you have to do is keep eating ... and judging from the last two weeks that isn't gonna be a problem, is it Big Boy?"
Before Breakfast Snack
As Lana continued her sensual carresses with her left hand, she used her long legs to straddle me and her right hand to reach into the second of two boxes of pastries we had procured the day before. Of course, the first box had been demolished before bed time last night and leggy Lana didn't consume a single one, as she reminded me that the sugary confections had but one destination ... and that was my big fat belly.
"Keep it up Lefty," I pleaded and let out a low gutteral moan, leading her to inquire, "but don't you want what's in my right hand?" "Do I have to choose?," I asked. "No baby," she answered, "you shouldn't have to choose, you can have both" and she popped a big chunk of cinnamon bun in my mouth while sliding northward on my thighs. As she popped another big chunk in my mouth, both of her hands were now free and she used them to push my waves of belly fat back sufficiently to mount her fat husband. And soon what had been small ripples and Seismic shocks became 6.0 Richter scale quakes with her long tight torso slamming into my elephantine rolls.
Lana's left hand now grasped my big saggy bottom roll to maintain her balance while she used her right hand to continue dipping into the pastry box for chunks of goodies to pop in my mouth ... more cinnamon bun, then a big bite of a chocolate eclair, then half a huge glazed doughnut. "Hopefully this box will tide you over until the breakfast buffet," she cooed. Doughnut in mouth, I mumbled "Dunno ... got an ... awful ... big belly ... to keep full." "That you do Big Boy," she chuckled, "and I'm not gonna let my man get hungry, EVER!" Then, as she stuffed the last of the doughnut into my mouth, she got an evil glint in her eyes and said "in fact, let's forget 400 pounds and go for 500!" That was all it took for both of us to climax and it was massive, just like me!
As we lay snuggling afterwards, Lana continued to pop bites of pastry in my mouth while jiggling my moobs with her free hand and my belly with her bony knee. That is until she bolted upright and took a look at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Oh shit," she exclaimed, "gotta meet the trainer in the exercise center at 7 a.m. for the 5k group run around the property."
She had twelve minutes to get downstairs and quickly pulled on her running gear, then leaned over to give me a quick goodbye kiss. "Oh, did you want to come?," she asked with another evil glint in her eye. Before I could come up with a witty retort, she gave my belly a good shake and said, "of course not, you just lay in bed and dream of how much you'll stuff yourself at the breakfast buffet." Then she leaned into my vastness for another, longer, more passionate kiss and another big belly shake, muttering kind of sexily "that's right, I'll work to keep my body in shape just the way you like it, and you can plan how many trips to the buffet it will take to keep your body in shape the way I like it, Fat Boy!" I reminded her that I was still tied up and she quickly undid one of my restraints, no doubt expecting me to untie the others myself. On her way out the door, she hurriedly said "finish the pastries and I'll meet you at breakfast at 8:30 .... and make sure to bring that endless appetite!"
"Don't worry," I thought and reached into the box for an eclair with my one free hand.
Lying In Bed
I ate a couple of more pastries out of the box before summoning the energy to untie the remaining three restraints. I was able to reach with my free hand to untie the restraint on the other without too much trouble. But then I had to get my torso upright (no easy feat with my big belly in the way), then lean forward (again fighting against my belly all the way) to untie the restraints around my feet.
There were three pastries left in the box and they were singing the sirens' song ... "eat us Pete, we're so delicious, and we're going to make you so much fatter ..." But nature was calling too and I waddled off to the bathroom, stopping momentarily on the way in front of the suite's full-length mirror to admire my bloated body in its nakedness.
Whereas a hundred pounds ago I had always been appalled to see myself naked in the mirror, now I have turned into quite the narcissist. I really enjoy seeing my big sagging belly and my boobs that are bigger than Lana's now. And I love even more how it seems to turn Lana on -- if I'd only known what it would be like I would have packed on the pounds years ago!
After relieving myself, it's back to bed and those last three pastries. I take my time devouring each one, savoring the delicious sweet taste and the little sugar rush they are sending to my brain. In between each one, I use my non-sticky hand to touch and carress my belly bulging high into the air, intrigued by its heft and feel and how dramatically larger it is than just two years ago when Lana and I made our first visit to this resort for a long-planned second honeymoon.
As I collect the next pastry out of the box, my free hand firmly grasps a big handful of belly fat and the feeling is so erotic, then as I take the first small bite of the new pastry, my hand slides southward to check on the status of my favorite plaything and discovers that I am in the midst of another erection. I wish that Lana was here, instead of exercising, so that she could work her magic. But alas, I will just have to make my own, feeding myself the last two pastries while gently stroking myself between the legs and thinking about Lana's wish to fatten me to 400 pounds by Easter.
Lying in bed afterwards, I mused about what had brought me to my current state. It all goes back to that second honeymoon in this very resort two years ago. I was fat then, but nothing like this ... a 260 pound whisp of a man. I'd put on a hundred pounds since Lana and I had gotten married, but she seemed to mind not the least. Our first morning at the resort had not been too different (except she had not yet gotten the idea of tying me to the bedpost and feeding and fornicating with me!). She awoke to go running at 7 and told me she'd meet me for breakfast at 8:30.
Once in the massive dining room, we discovered a massive buffet with virtually any type of breakfast food we could imagine. The hostess seated us and I was sure Lana could tell that her fat husband could not wait to get at that buffet. As soon as the waiter brought our coffee, I bounded out of the chair and hustled to the food as fast as I could. Lana was a couple of steps behind and I imagine she was quite amused as I probably hadn't moved that fast in a while!
I loaded my plate full with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausuage, a croissant, a couple of blueberry muffins, and almost as an afterthought, a few small slices of canteloupe and watermelon (just so I could tell Lana that I had eaten some fruit!). Back at the table, as Lana ate like a bird, I wolfed the contents of my plate down and was waiting impatiently for Lana to finish hers so we could go back for more.
I could tell she was bemused and finally she said "just go back and get some more ... I don't mind." But I graciously said, "no, I'll wait for you." Then she got a look of mild annoyance on her face, looked me straight in the eye, and said "let's be honest ... YOU know you like to eat ... I know you like to eat ... so go ***ing eat. As much as you want, make a pig out of yourself, it's not like I don't know you're fat." Then came the shocker, "in fact, I wouldn't mind if you got fatter ... I think you'd make a very sexy 300-pounder!"
I recall making five more trips to the breakfast buffet that day, for pancakes and bacon, then more bacon and eggs, then a big bagel slathered in butter and jelly, then a heaping bowl of cereal, and finally a couple of blueberry muffins! Then, on the way out the door, Lana grabbed about a half dozen more muffins for me to snack on throughout the day. And this kept up every morning we were there, plus a big lunch, a bigger dinner, dessert, and finally a trip to the convenience store at the resort to buy a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream for me to eat before bedtime.
By the time we got back home, I was up to 272 pounds and the upward trend continued. And now, just two years later, I had gained at least eighty more pounds, though by now at the end of our vacation it was probably more like ninety!
And as I nodded off for a short nap, I found myself dreaming about my last trip to the breakfast buffet on this Hawaiian vacation, wondering just how many trips to the buffet I'd be able to fit in and how many thousands of calories I would no doubt consume! Then I thought how blessed I was to have a wife who would let me get this fat ... and who wanted me to be so much fatter still.
Here I am, all four pudgy limbs secured to the posts of a sturdy four poster king bed in an Hawaiian luxury hotel, my overstuffed belly mounded high in the air and my flag rising majestically from out of my FUPA and flying at full staff. My leggy and very naked wife Lana, all six feet of her, is standing at the foot of the bed taking a couple of pics of her 352 pound husband (at least that's what I weighed before we left home two weeks ago) to post on our Tumblr page.
"Our followers are going to eat this up," she said, "you look kind of like a straight Superchub Cowboy Pete, here take a look at how fat and sexy you are" and she brought her iPad closer to my face so I could see. I looked absolutely enormous with my big stretch-marked double belly, c-cup man boobs, pudgy thighs and arms, and round face and chubby cheeks resting atop a big nest of neck fat. Then Lana set down the iPad and lay her long and lean frame next to mine to snuggle up to my enormity. We presented such a marked physical contrast to each other physically, her a tall drink of water who looked like she could have been a mature fashion model, and me, a total blob who at 5′10″ was a couple of inches shorter and at least 225 pounds heavier than my bride. The contrast no doubt had been noticed by everyone at the resort's pool, where we had laid out in the sun every day during our stay and I could only imagine what they were thinking seeing the two of us so obviously in love and engaging in regular PDA's for all to see, wondering how such a babe could be with me.
As Lana lay beside me, she inserted her thumb deep into my belly button and spread her other four fingers southward to grasp as much of my sagging bottom roll as she could and started gently rocking my belly back and forth, sending little ripples and big seismic shocks alike throughout my ample flesh. "I just adore you Petey and how fat you've gotten over the last couple of years -- you're just such a sexy fatty!" Then she got a contemplative look on the face and added, "let's see, you weighed 352 pounds before we left and with all your gluttony while we've been in Hawaii, I bet you've added at least another fifteen pounds." "I know," I said, "the food here has been great and I just can't control my appetite!" Lana smiled adoringly and moved her hand further southward to start kneeding my testicles oh so sensually and whispered in my ear, "keep this up Fat Boy and you'll be 400 pounds by Easter." "You really think I could?," I asked with a hint of enthusiasm for the idea, and knowing full well that Easter was only six weeks away. Lana responded, quite lustily, "I KNOW you can baby, all you have to do is keep eating ... and judging from the last two weeks that isn't gonna be a problem, is it Big Boy?"
Before Breakfast Snack
As Lana continued her sensual carresses with her left hand, she used her long legs to straddle me and her right hand to reach into the second of two boxes of pastries we had procured the day before. Of course, the first box had been demolished before bed time last night and leggy Lana didn't consume a single one, as she reminded me that the sugary confections had but one destination ... and that was my big fat belly.
"Keep it up Lefty," I pleaded and let out a low gutteral moan, leading her to inquire, "but don't you want what's in my right hand?" "Do I have to choose?," I asked. "No baby," she answered, "you shouldn't have to choose, you can have both" and she popped a big chunk of cinnamon bun in my mouth while sliding northward on my thighs. As she popped another big chunk in my mouth, both of her hands were now free and she used them to push my waves of belly fat back sufficiently to mount her fat husband. And soon what had been small ripples and Seismic shocks became 6.0 Richter scale quakes with her long tight torso slamming into my elephantine rolls.
Lana's left hand now grasped my big saggy bottom roll to maintain her balance while she used her right hand to continue dipping into the pastry box for chunks of goodies to pop in my mouth ... more cinnamon bun, then a big bite of a chocolate eclair, then half a huge glazed doughnut. "Hopefully this box will tide you over until the breakfast buffet," she cooed. Doughnut in mouth, I mumbled "Dunno ... got an ... awful ... big belly ... to keep full." "That you do Big Boy," she chuckled, "and I'm not gonna let my man get hungry, EVER!" Then, as she stuffed the last of the doughnut into my mouth, she got an evil glint in her eyes and said "in fact, let's forget 400 pounds and go for 500!" That was all it took for both of us to climax and it was massive, just like me!
As we lay snuggling afterwards, Lana continued to pop bites of pastry in my mouth while jiggling my moobs with her free hand and my belly with her bony knee. That is until she bolted upright and took a look at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Oh shit," she exclaimed, "gotta meet the trainer in the exercise center at 7 a.m. for the 5k group run around the property."
She had twelve minutes to get downstairs and quickly pulled on her running gear, then leaned over to give me a quick goodbye kiss. "Oh, did you want to come?," she asked with another evil glint in her eye. Before I could come up with a witty retort, she gave my belly a good shake and said, "of course not, you just lay in bed and dream of how much you'll stuff yourself at the breakfast buffet." Then she leaned into my vastness for another, longer, more passionate kiss and another big belly shake, muttering kind of sexily "that's right, I'll work to keep my body in shape just the way you like it, and you can plan how many trips to the buffet it will take to keep your body in shape the way I like it, Fat Boy!" I reminded her that I was still tied up and she quickly undid one of my restraints, no doubt expecting me to untie the others myself. On her way out the door, she hurriedly said "finish the pastries and I'll meet you at breakfast at 8:30 .... and make sure to bring that endless appetite!"
"Don't worry," I thought and reached into the box for an eclair with my one free hand.
Lying In Bed
I ate a couple of more pastries out of the box before summoning the energy to untie the remaining three restraints. I was able to reach with my free hand to untie the restraint on the other without too much trouble. But then I had to get my torso upright (no easy feat with my big belly in the way), then lean forward (again fighting against my belly all the way) to untie the restraints around my feet.
There were three pastries left in the box and they were singing the sirens' song ... "eat us Pete, we're so delicious, and we're going to make you so much fatter ..." But nature was calling too and I waddled off to the bathroom, stopping momentarily on the way in front of the suite's full-length mirror to admire my bloated body in its nakedness.
Whereas a hundred pounds ago I had always been appalled to see myself naked in the mirror, now I have turned into quite the narcissist. I really enjoy seeing my big sagging belly and my boobs that are bigger than Lana's now. And I love even more how it seems to turn Lana on -- if I'd only known what it would be like I would have packed on the pounds years ago!
After relieving myself, it's back to bed and those last three pastries. I take my time devouring each one, savoring the delicious sweet taste and the little sugar rush they are sending to my brain. In between each one, I use my non-sticky hand to touch and carress my belly bulging high into the air, intrigued by its heft and feel and how dramatically larger it is than just two years ago when Lana and I made our first visit to this resort for a long-planned second honeymoon.
As I collect the next pastry out of the box, my free hand firmly grasps a big handful of belly fat and the feeling is so erotic, then as I take the first small bite of the new pastry, my hand slides southward to check on the status of my favorite plaything and discovers that I am in the midst of another erection. I wish that Lana was here, instead of exercising, so that she could work her magic. But alas, I will just have to make my own, feeding myself the last two pastries while gently stroking myself between the legs and thinking about Lana's wish to fatten me to 400 pounds by Easter.
Lying in bed afterwards, I mused about what had brought me to my current state. It all goes back to that second honeymoon in this very resort two years ago. I was fat then, but nothing like this ... a 260 pound whisp of a man. I'd put on a hundred pounds since Lana and I had gotten married, but she seemed to mind not the least. Our first morning at the resort had not been too different (except she had not yet gotten the idea of tying me to the bedpost and feeding and fornicating with me!). She awoke to go running at 7 and told me she'd meet me for breakfast at 8:30.
Once in the massive dining room, we discovered a massive buffet with virtually any type of breakfast food we could imagine. The hostess seated us and I was sure Lana could tell that her fat husband could not wait to get at that buffet. As soon as the waiter brought our coffee, I bounded out of the chair and hustled to the food as fast as I could. Lana was a couple of steps behind and I imagine she was quite amused as I probably hadn't moved that fast in a while!
I loaded my plate full with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausuage, a croissant, a couple of blueberry muffins, and almost as an afterthought, a few small slices of canteloupe and watermelon (just so I could tell Lana that I had eaten some fruit!). Back at the table, as Lana ate like a bird, I wolfed the contents of my plate down and was waiting impatiently for Lana to finish hers so we could go back for more.
I could tell she was bemused and finally she said "just go back and get some more ... I don't mind." But I graciously said, "no, I'll wait for you." Then she got a look of mild annoyance on her face, looked me straight in the eye, and said "let's be honest ... YOU know you like to eat ... I know you like to eat ... so go ***ing eat. As much as you want, make a pig out of yourself, it's not like I don't know you're fat." Then came the shocker, "in fact, I wouldn't mind if you got fatter ... I think you'd make a very sexy 300-pounder!"
I recall making five more trips to the breakfast buffet that day, for pancakes and bacon, then more bacon and eggs, then a big bagel slathered in butter and jelly, then a heaping bowl of cereal, and finally a couple of blueberry muffins! Then, on the way out the door, Lana grabbed about a half dozen more muffins for me to snack on throughout the day. And this kept up every morning we were there, plus a big lunch, a bigger dinner, dessert, and finally a trip to the convenience store at the resort to buy a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream for me to eat before bedtime.
By the time we got back home, I was up to 272 pounds and the upward trend continued. And now, just two years later, I had gained at least eighty more pounds, though by now at the end of our vacation it was probably more like ninety!
And as I nodded off for a short nap, I found myself dreaming about my last trip to the breakfast buffet on this Hawaiian vacation, wondering just how many trips to the buffet I'd be able to fit in and how many thousands of calories I would no doubt consume! Then I thought how blessed I was to have a wife who would let me get this fat ... and who wanted me to be so much fatter still.
