~BHM (Multiple), Eating, ~MWG - a group of housewives decide to secretly fatten their spouses
Chapter One
The three women always enjoyed these morning get-togethers -- a time to relax after their husbands had gone to work and much of the early day chores had been completed. Julie Tyson, Kim Filbert, and Rhonda Wesson lounged in the breakfast nook of Julie's spacious home as the dappled light of the May sun filtered through the large oak tree just outside the bay window of the nook in which they had gathered.
Since they had met at a mixer for new residents of their housing development (they had all moved in within two months of each other, the year before), they had been fast friends, perhaps at least partly due to their age: all were in their mid-to-late thirties.
Julie was the sprightly, always cheery one: spunky to the point of almost tiring out her friends whenever there was some collective event. This short, dark-haired, slim tornado was well-known for out-baking, out-cleaning, out-party prepping all of the neighborhood. Most times, the other women just let Julie loose with her usual whirlwind of activity, watching in amazement as she flew around in a bird-like flurry of constant motion, taking care of things most others might not even think of ... at least, they might not consider those things worthy of such frenetic attention.
Her long hair -- usually braided behind her -- trailed out and flapped as she rounded corners like a runaway train, making all prudent bystanders leap aside and let her pass. Still, she was funny and bright and most folks in the neighborhood appreciated her energy, even if they had no desire to keep up with her. Julie was always the person who welcomed a new couple at the mixers, making them feel very much at home; some of the women (and men) remarked that she must have been a cruise director in a former life.
Kim, on the other hand, was the highly mellow one: laidback and languid in her manner, she let most everything that was stressful just wash over her and flow down the sink of her endless lack of concern for all that was considered jaw-clenching in daily life. Of medium height and build -- that not-quite-thin, but not really plumpish look so common in housewives -- she was the one who laughed off the calorie frettings as the neighborhood women told each other (at one of their many weekend parties) how they shouldn't eat any more of the party dip, and then promptly did just that.
Kim didn't even play that "Oh, I shouldn't be eating this" game ... she went right for the dip, never worrying and never gaining, either. Others said it wasn't fair; Kim assumed it was good luck for not being such a worry-wart. She would give a characteristic sigh of long-sufferance at the other women's worries, running her fingers through her short-cropped auburn hair, sometimes even rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue in a joking display of disapproval. It was not universally understood to be in jest and some of the local women thought Kim to be a tad haughty, but most liked her. In her militantly non-flustered way, she was a quiet dynamo: someone who always came through with the difficult-to-make party dessert, for while she did not have the energy of Julie, she had a plodding and productive way in the kitchen.
Rhonda was the youngster of the bunch. She was three years younger than the other two women who were both 38. Some people referred to Rhonda as "35 going on 25," but this was unkind, untrue, and generally a reflection of the fact that she was not the brightest star in the sky. A sweet person of genuine and pleasant temperment, Rhonda was perhaps more naive than dim -- she never seemed to "get" any of the more worldly jokes told at parties or the informal gatherings as people walked outside on cool evenings, but what she lacked in intellectual capacity, she made up for in looks. She was stunningly beautiful.
In true male fashion, all of the men in the area secretly wondered what it would be like to "be" with Rhonda; they certainly wouldn't be threatened by her I.Q. and they certainly wouldn't "kick her out of bed," as the coarsest of the husbands often said. She was understood more completely by her closest friends, including Julie and Robert Tyson, Kim and her husband Patrick, and a number of other people who lived on her street. They all viewed her as an unsullied, completely unjaded creature of kindness, sweetness, and light; she never spoke an unkind or catty word about anyone. Plus, even though she was not a walking Encyclopedia Britannica, she had an amazing knack for cooking without ever measuring ingredients or using a cookbook of any type. That talent was as instinctive as the migration of swallows, something that amazed all those who knew her well.
Rhonda's husband, Ted, called her an "angel on earth," and loved her for her many wonderful qualities, not just her beauty ... and whenever his wife walked into the room -- her shoulder-length red hair cascading over milky shoulders, her perfect curves moving with cat-like grace -- his heart melted all over again. They had only been married a year and were considered the newlyweds of the neighborhood. Most of the nearby couples had been married at least five years or more and had gotten well into the "Why don't you pick up your own damned socks!" stage of negotiative marital skills.
On this warm and sunlit May morning, the talk turned to recipes and cooking, and the degree to which each husband seemed to appreciate certain meals more than any other. Julie walked over to the fridge to grab another glass of apple juice, chuckling over Robert's words of the previous evening: "You know what Robert said?? He told me he just couldn't stop eating my lasagna; it was as though it had a potion mixed into it ... one that made a person keep eating until it was all finished. He said I'd better not serve that too many nights or he'll end up getting quite fat."
As she turned towards the other women, drinking her freshly poured juice, she had a faraway look in her eye that caused Kim to probe.
"Whatcha thinking there, Julie?? You look like you suddenly went off into the ozone." Julie took another sip, trying to think of how to explain this feeling that had come over her. It was one that even she did not fully understand, one that did not come with dread or displeasure. She walked back to the table and sat down as Kim and Rhonda watched her pause in her answer; Julie tried to find the right words or the reason for saying them out-loud.
"I was just trying to picture what Robert would look like if he were fat. After he joked about that, I found myself thinking of him as a fatter man ... walking into the kitchen, sitting down to eat my lasagna, growing even fatter as he ate it ... patting his stomach -- that sort of thing." J
ulie had surprised herself by being so candid, even with her best friends. If anything, you usually fantasized about her mate growing slimmer and more "buff" ...not growing fatter before your very eyes. She suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, perhaps more so because as she revealed that thought, she had felt a twinge of excitement. What Julie was not yet prepared to say was that she had thought about Robert as a fatter, bigger-bellied man on more than one occasion. She had never really come to terms with these fantasies, perhaps because she had never been able to give voice to them.
Kim leaned back and laughed, completely non-plussed and unfazed by this admission. She had her own admission to make: "Hey Julie, join the club ... I've thought about that a number of times. Patrick's family is full of bigger, well-fed guys. My hubby is the smallest of the bunch, but that's only because he really watches what he eats. He has to ... I don't think they want these volunteer paramedic rescue squad members to grow too fat. Might not go over too well with the county. But you know Patrick: he's a bit vain, mostly in regards to his percentage of body fat. Frankly, I prefer a man with some meat on his bones ... er ... well, especially..."
It was here that she decided to pause, wondering how to state it --
"....especially around the middle." Kim noticed a look of surprise on Julie's face and there was no back-tracking now, so she continued:
"Yeah, that's right ... I do think bigger bellies look good on a guy. I don't really know why, but I've always thought so, maybe because my dad was a big guy. My mom loved him so much, thought he was the most gorgeous guy on the planet. Used to come over and pat his belly in the kitchen, just before dinner ... tell him what she was cooking for him, joking about how she was going to have to let-out his pants after dinner. And, more often than not, that turned out to be the truth. She spent a lot of time letting-out his pants. He just kept getting bigger and bigger ... and you know what?? She couldn't keep her hands off that belly of his! And I'll be honest: not long after I married Patrick, I started thinking about how his belly would feel in my hands if I fattened him up with my dinners."
Kim's frankness seemed to melt Julie's embarrassment, and as Julie sat back down, she stared at Kim with a somewhat serious look -- one that spoke of acknowledging a long-held and personal secret. She glanced down as she started to speak of this secret with Kim and Rhonda: "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I used to think about bigger guys ... this goes back many years, even back to high school. I went out with this guy who played football; after he hurt his knee, he had to stop playing and he started to put on some weight. He put on quite a belly and as he did, he sort of felt embarrassed and stopped wanting to go out. He ended up dumping me because of how he felt about himself. But I really liked the way he looked ... I even -- Man! I can't believe I'm saying this! -- used to think about him as I fell asleep, wondering how it would be to massage his bigger belly."
Rhonda turned to Julie and asked her if she had told him of her feelings: "Did you ever tell that guy you thought he looked good after he gained? Maybe he felt really bad ... maybe figured you thought he was gross or something."
Rhonda thought about her new husband's tummy, how it had softened just a tiny bit from her cooking, but nothing that was noticeable with his clothes on. She realized she rather liked the feel of it ... wondering how much more she would like it, if it were to grow much bigger.
Julie sighed, shrugged, and admitted to Rhonda that she had not told the football player how she was attracted to his increased girth. "No, I didn't ... I suppose I should have, but I didn't. I didn't know how to tell him. Remember, this is high school, for heaven's sake! You don't go around telling people that you like fatter bellies on guys!"
The gals all laughed, realizing that admitting something like this was a sure-fire way to have everyone in the school deem you a weirdo of the first order. It was just not done, not even as adults ... at least, not in most social circles.
Rhonda drummed her fingers on the table and looked at Julie, speaking slowly, softly, and with compassion: "It would have made him feel a lot better, I'm sure ... and who knows, maybe he was the sort of guy who looks better with a big tummy. Some men are like that."
The youngest of the bunch thought about her own Ted, trying to picture his belly growing rounder and more full from her cooking. As she did so, she felt a nervous flush come over her, one that astounded her -- why had she not admitted this to herself before, this desire? She was clearly getting excited thinking about it. She kept trying to make an image of Ted become clear in her mind's eye -- one of him sitting in their kitchen, eating big servings of her delicious pie until his belly became so much bigger he had to undo his pants.
Just several nights before, Ted had patted his own stomach after dinner, and Rhonda had almost expected him to turn around, suddenly showing himself to be much rounder and fatter; but when he turned, it was his usual, fairly flat stomach she saw ... and she had realized she was somewhat disappointed it had not grown from that delicious meal. It was Kim's raucous laughter that ended her reverie.
"Well, aren't we a bunch of pervs, sitting around and talking about fat guys and how much we like the way they look!" Kim laughed again at her own way of describing their discussion, knowing deep down that the laughter masked a very real and deep desire and inclination for perhaps all of them -- one that had not surfaced in all of their minds until this topic had somehow come sliding into their collective consciousness, sudden and bright like a comet's streak across a moonless night.
Julie felt obligated to defend her feelings and her fantasies about a fatter Robert. She didn't want the other girls to think she was weird; that "perv" comment by Kim made her wonder about her thoughts and whether she had any reason to fear being some kind of pervert.
"I don't really think these thoughts are pervy, are they?" Julie asked her friends, "I mean, look -- there are all kinds of body types, and there's no reason any type is any better than another ... except, of course, when it comes to what you happen to gravitate towards. We all know that T.V. shows mostly negative images of fatness, but how many people really think it looks gross. And the bigger question is this: how many people prefer fatter partners? We might all be surprised by the answer to that."
As she finished, stopping to down the last of the juice in her glass, she wondered how many people would be surprised at this discussion they were having; it was very clear, the direction this discussion was taking: all three women had obviously had fantasies and thoughts of fatter husbands, and it was also clear -- if they were being honest with themselves and with the others -- that these feelings had not originated with this first open conversation about this topic. So, what to do?
Kim looked out towards the road and suddenly spoke the thought they had all struck upon at almost the same moment without realizing it: "Maybe we'll never know how much we like fatter guys unless we fatten up our own husbands."
This comment froze all the women for a moment or two; it was so clear, so defining, so absolutely ... necessary. It took a moment for anyone to speak, and when that moment came, it was Rhonda's gentle voice.
"We wouldn't do it without telling them, right? It wouldn't be right to start feeding them stuff we knew would make them really fat, would it?" She felt torn between the excitement of secretly trying to make Ted fatter and the guilt associated with this type of clandestine culinary operation. As much as she tried to make herself fall well within the "guilty" camp, the heat rose within her as she thought of stuffing Ted with delicious and rich dinners until his belt burst under the onslaught of her cooking.
"Well, we wouldn't jam Sarah Lee Pound Cakes down their throats with toilet plungers, if that's what you mean .." Kim huffed, chuckling at the outrageous image that also made Julie laugh, "I don't think we would do anything except make the most scrumptious meals possible and then see if our mates took the bait. If they gain, they gain ... if not, they don't. But the more I think on it, the more I think I could cook food so tempting that Patrick -- vanity or not, rescue squad fitness guidelines or not -- would not be able to resist. I'll bet I could make Patrick fatter than you gals could accomplish with either of your husbands. I've learned a few things over the years."
"Oh, making this into a contest, are we??" Julie leaned over the table towards Kim, eyes blazing with the challenge. "Well, Kimmy ... let me tell you this: I could fatten Robert WAY more than you could fatten Patrick. You would have to get out that plunger to get Patrick to put on more than a pound or two, while Robert would soon be seen carrying his belly around in a wheelbarrow!"
This image made all three of them roar hysterically, rocking in their chairs, until Julie's phone rang and she had to jump up to answer it.
"Hello? Oh, hi dear ... yeah, I remembered. I bought it on the way home from the antiques place. Yep, I picked that up, too. Dinner? Well, I have to run out to get a couple of things"
... (Kim and Rhonda looked at each other, almost laughing, stifling their guffaws as they collectively thought, then mouthed (silently) the words: "Don't forget the PLUNGER, Julie!!") ...
"What was that, dear?" -- Julie waved frantically to try and settle down and stifle Kim and Rhonda, who were still rocking in their chairs, about to burst out laughing
"Yes, Robert ... I'll make that lasagna if you really want that for tonight.
Yeah, I'll buy some dessert, too." The two other women finally started to reduce to a simmer, but were giving each other a wicked, arched-eyebrow look when Julie mentioned the word "dessert."
"OK, bye honey ... love you." -- CLICK! -- Julie hung up the phone and admonished her friends: "You gals are so BAD, you know that?! I thought Robert was going to hear you cackling like a couple of magpies ... I sure wasn't going to explain what was so funny!"
She shook her head as they finally burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves, and wagged her finger. "And NO, I'm not going to get a plunger ... because I don't need it. Maybe you girls do, But I DON'T ... I can manage with just my years of experience in the kitchen."
Kim and Rhonda both looked up at Julie, wiping tears from their eyes, smiling and wondering if they had heard right.
"So, we're DOING it??? We're actually going for it??" Rhonda was astonished that as she said this, she found herself getting aroused by the thought they would attempt such an outrageous thing. Once again, she found herself thinking of Ted's stomach growing larger and larger, protuberant to the point that he needed suspenders to help support the weight of his enormous belly ... she pictured herself climbing onto that mountain of a tummy and making wild and wanton love to his glorious fatness.
What she didn't know was that all the women had similar thoughts as they grinned to each other, about to make a fateful pact.
"Yep, we're doin' it ..." -- Julie felt relieved to be stating the new charter --
"Girls, welcome to the ‘Fat Husbands Club’ -- a secret society where cooking is king and belts are made for breaking. We'll see who can fatten up their men the most, but they can't know what we're up to ... we have to be sneaky about this. It's all "Temptation City," and the rest is up to them. You can lead a husband to a delicious and fattening meal, but you can't make him eat until his shirt buttons pop -- only HE can do that."
Kim looked quizzically at Julie, who was standing by the phone, clapping her hands to her side in glee over their decision. "But wait, Julie ..."
Kim furrowed her brow and shook her head -- "If we're a secret society, we need a secret handshake; every club like this has one."
Julie thought for a moment, then bent over double in laughter, recovering to demonstrate her idea.
Julie grinned and said: "Hey, how about THIS one ..."
She held her hands together, over her belly, and then moved them away, pantomiming a belly growing outward. Kim and Rhonda chortled with delight, but Rhonda said that wasn't enough. They had to have a part of it -- the handshake -- that bound them together in their quest. They were, after all, in this together: they had revealed their secret longings and were now bound by this secret desire to fatten their men.
Julie scurried back to the table, sat down, and remarked that she had the answer. "OK, here! We clap our hands together -- a ‘high five’ -- then do the handshake, the pantomime of our secret quest."
With great gusto, the three wives slapped their hands together, high up over the table in the breakfast nook, then leaned back in their chairs, laughing as they drew their hands out, imitating the ballooning of their husbands' bellies. There was no doubt: they were on their way.
Fat Husbands Club
by Big Chris
by Big Chris
Chapter One
The three women always enjoyed these morning get-togethers -- a time to relax after their husbands had gone to work and much of the early day chores had been completed. Julie Tyson, Kim Filbert, and Rhonda Wesson lounged in the breakfast nook of Julie's spacious home as the dappled light of the May sun filtered through the large oak tree just outside the bay window of the nook in which they had gathered.
Since they had met at a mixer for new residents of their housing development (they had all moved in within two months of each other, the year before), they had been fast friends, perhaps at least partly due to their age: all were in their mid-to-late thirties.
Julie was the sprightly, always cheery one: spunky to the point of almost tiring out her friends whenever there was some collective event. This short, dark-haired, slim tornado was well-known for out-baking, out-cleaning, out-party prepping all of the neighborhood. Most times, the other women just let Julie loose with her usual whirlwind of activity, watching in amazement as she flew around in a bird-like flurry of constant motion, taking care of things most others might not even think of ... at least, they might not consider those things worthy of such frenetic attention.
Her long hair -- usually braided behind her -- trailed out and flapped as she rounded corners like a runaway train, making all prudent bystanders leap aside and let her pass. Still, she was funny and bright and most folks in the neighborhood appreciated her energy, even if they had no desire to keep up with her. Julie was always the person who welcomed a new couple at the mixers, making them feel very much at home; some of the women (and men) remarked that she must have been a cruise director in a former life.
Kim, on the other hand, was the highly mellow one: laidback and languid in her manner, she let most everything that was stressful just wash over her and flow down the sink of her endless lack of concern for all that was considered jaw-clenching in daily life. Of medium height and build -- that not-quite-thin, but not really plumpish look so common in housewives -- she was the one who laughed off the calorie frettings as the neighborhood women told each other (at one of their many weekend parties) how they shouldn't eat any more of the party dip, and then promptly did just that.
Kim didn't even play that "Oh, I shouldn't be eating this" game ... she went right for the dip, never worrying and never gaining, either. Others said it wasn't fair; Kim assumed it was good luck for not being such a worry-wart. She would give a characteristic sigh of long-sufferance at the other women's worries, running her fingers through her short-cropped auburn hair, sometimes even rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue in a joking display of disapproval. It was not universally understood to be in jest and some of the local women thought Kim to be a tad haughty, but most liked her. In her militantly non-flustered way, she was a quiet dynamo: someone who always came through with the difficult-to-make party dessert, for while she did not have the energy of Julie, she had a plodding and productive way in the kitchen.
Rhonda was the youngster of the bunch. She was three years younger than the other two women who were both 38. Some people referred to Rhonda as "35 going on 25," but this was unkind, untrue, and generally a reflection of the fact that she was not the brightest star in the sky. A sweet person of genuine and pleasant temperment, Rhonda was perhaps more naive than dim -- she never seemed to "get" any of the more worldly jokes told at parties or the informal gatherings as people walked outside on cool evenings, but what she lacked in intellectual capacity, she made up for in looks. She was stunningly beautiful.
In true male fashion, all of the men in the area secretly wondered what it would be like to "be" with Rhonda; they certainly wouldn't be threatened by her I.Q. and they certainly wouldn't "kick her out of bed," as the coarsest of the husbands often said. She was understood more completely by her closest friends, including Julie and Robert Tyson, Kim and her husband Patrick, and a number of other people who lived on her street. They all viewed her as an unsullied, completely unjaded creature of kindness, sweetness, and light; she never spoke an unkind or catty word about anyone. Plus, even though she was not a walking Encyclopedia Britannica, she had an amazing knack for cooking without ever measuring ingredients or using a cookbook of any type. That talent was as instinctive as the migration of swallows, something that amazed all those who knew her well.
Rhonda's husband, Ted, called her an "angel on earth," and loved her for her many wonderful qualities, not just her beauty ... and whenever his wife walked into the room -- her shoulder-length red hair cascading over milky shoulders, her perfect curves moving with cat-like grace -- his heart melted all over again. They had only been married a year and were considered the newlyweds of the neighborhood. Most of the nearby couples had been married at least five years or more and had gotten well into the "Why don't you pick up your own damned socks!" stage of negotiative marital skills.
On this warm and sunlit May morning, the talk turned to recipes and cooking, and the degree to which each husband seemed to appreciate certain meals more than any other. Julie walked over to the fridge to grab another glass of apple juice, chuckling over Robert's words of the previous evening: "You know what Robert said?? He told me he just couldn't stop eating my lasagna; it was as though it had a potion mixed into it ... one that made a person keep eating until it was all finished. He said I'd better not serve that too many nights or he'll end up getting quite fat."
As she turned towards the other women, drinking her freshly poured juice, she had a faraway look in her eye that caused Kim to probe.
"Whatcha thinking there, Julie?? You look like you suddenly went off into the ozone." Julie took another sip, trying to think of how to explain this feeling that had come over her. It was one that even she did not fully understand, one that did not come with dread or displeasure. She walked back to the table and sat down as Kim and Rhonda watched her pause in her answer; Julie tried to find the right words or the reason for saying them out-loud.
"I was just trying to picture what Robert would look like if he were fat. After he joked about that, I found myself thinking of him as a fatter man ... walking into the kitchen, sitting down to eat my lasagna, growing even fatter as he ate it ... patting his stomach -- that sort of thing." J
ulie had surprised herself by being so candid, even with her best friends. If anything, you usually fantasized about her mate growing slimmer and more "buff" ...not growing fatter before your very eyes. She suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, perhaps more so because as she revealed that thought, she had felt a twinge of excitement. What Julie was not yet prepared to say was that she had thought about Robert as a fatter, bigger-bellied man on more than one occasion. She had never really come to terms with these fantasies, perhaps because she had never been able to give voice to them.
Kim leaned back and laughed, completely non-plussed and unfazed by this admission. She had her own admission to make: "Hey Julie, join the club ... I've thought about that a number of times. Patrick's family is full of bigger, well-fed guys. My hubby is the smallest of the bunch, but that's only because he really watches what he eats. He has to ... I don't think they want these volunteer paramedic rescue squad members to grow too fat. Might not go over too well with the county. But you know Patrick: he's a bit vain, mostly in regards to his percentage of body fat. Frankly, I prefer a man with some meat on his bones ... er ... well, especially..."
It was here that she decided to pause, wondering how to state it --
"....especially around the middle." Kim noticed a look of surprise on Julie's face and there was no back-tracking now, so she continued:
"Yeah, that's right ... I do think bigger bellies look good on a guy. I don't really know why, but I've always thought so, maybe because my dad was a big guy. My mom loved him so much, thought he was the most gorgeous guy on the planet. Used to come over and pat his belly in the kitchen, just before dinner ... tell him what she was cooking for him, joking about how she was going to have to let-out his pants after dinner. And, more often than not, that turned out to be the truth. She spent a lot of time letting-out his pants. He just kept getting bigger and bigger ... and you know what?? She couldn't keep her hands off that belly of his! And I'll be honest: not long after I married Patrick, I started thinking about how his belly would feel in my hands if I fattened him up with my dinners."
Kim's frankness seemed to melt Julie's embarrassment, and as Julie sat back down, she stared at Kim with a somewhat serious look -- one that spoke of acknowledging a long-held and personal secret. She glanced down as she started to speak of this secret with Kim and Rhonda: "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I used to think about bigger guys ... this goes back many years, even back to high school. I went out with this guy who played football; after he hurt his knee, he had to stop playing and he started to put on some weight. He put on quite a belly and as he did, he sort of felt embarrassed and stopped wanting to go out. He ended up dumping me because of how he felt about himself. But I really liked the way he looked ... I even -- Man! I can't believe I'm saying this! -- used to think about him as I fell asleep, wondering how it would be to massage his bigger belly."
Rhonda turned to Julie and asked her if she had told him of her feelings: "Did you ever tell that guy you thought he looked good after he gained? Maybe he felt really bad ... maybe figured you thought he was gross or something."
Rhonda thought about her new husband's tummy, how it had softened just a tiny bit from her cooking, but nothing that was noticeable with his clothes on. She realized she rather liked the feel of it ... wondering how much more she would like it, if it were to grow much bigger.
Julie sighed, shrugged, and admitted to Rhonda that she had not told the football player how she was attracted to his increased girth. "No, I didn't ... I suppose I should have, but I didn't. I didn't know how to tell him. Remember, this is high school, for heaven's sake! You don't go around telling people that you like fatter bellies on guys!"
The gals all laughed, realizing that admitting something like this was a sure-fire way to have everyone in the school deem you a weirdo of the first order. It was just not done, not even as adults ... at least, not in most social circles.
Rhonda drummed her fingers on the table and looked at Julie, speaking slowly, softly, and with compassion: "It would have made him feel a lot better, I'm sure ... and who knows, maybe he was the sort of guy who looks better with a big tummy. Some men are like that."
The youngest of the bunch thought about her own Ted, trying to picture his belly growing rounder and more full from her cooking. As she did so, she felt a nervous flush come over her, one that astounded her -- why had she not admitted this to herself before, this desire? She was clearly getting excited thinking about it. She kept trying to make an image of Ted become clear in her mind's eye -- one of him sitting in their kitchen, eating big servings of her delicious pie until his belly became so much bigger he had to undo his pants.
Just several nights before, Ted had patted his own stomach after dinner, and Rhonda had almost expected him to turn around, suddenly showing himself to be much rounder and fatter; but when he turned, it was his usual, fairly flat stomach she saw ... and she had realized she was somewhat disappointed it had not grown from that delicious meal. It was Kim's raucous laughter that ended her reverie.
"Well, aren't we a bunch of pervs, sitting around and talking about fat guys and how much we like the way they look!" Kim laughed again at her own way of describing their discussion, knowing deep down that the laughter masked a very real and deep desire and inclination for perhaps all of them -- one that had not surfaced in all of their minds until this topic had somehow come sliding into their collective consciousness, sudden and bright like a comet's streak across a moonless night.
Julie felt obligated to defend her feelings and her fantasies about a fatter Robert. She didn't want the other girls to think she was weird; that "perv" comment by Kim made her wonder about her thoughts and whether she had any reason to fear being some kind of pervert.
"I don't really think these thoughts are pervy, are they?" Julie asked her friends, "I mean, look -- there are all kinds of body types, and there's no reason any type is any better than another ... except, of course, when it comes to what you happen to gravitate towards. We all know that T.V. shows mostly negative images of fatness, but how many people really think it looks gross. And the bigger question is this: how many people prefer fatter partners? We might all be surprised by the answer to that."
As she finished, stopping to down the last of the juice in her glass, she wondered how many people would be surprised at this discussion they were having; it was very clear, the direction this discussion was taking: all three women had obviously had fantasies and thoughts of fatter husbands, and it was also clear -- if they were being honest with themselves and with the others -- that these feelings had not originated with this first open conversation about this topic. So, what to do?
Kim looked out towards the road and suddenly spoke the thought they had all struck upon at almost the same moment without realizing it: "Maybe we'll never know how much we like fatter guys unless we fatten up our own husbands."
This comment froze all the women for a moment or two; it was so clear, so defining, so absolutely ... necessary. It took a moment for anyone to speak, and when that moment came, it was Rhonda's gentle voice.
"We wouldn't do it without telling them, right? It wouldn't be right to start feeding them stuff we knew would make them really fat, would it?" She felt torn between the excitement of secretly trying to make Ted fatter and the guilt associated with this type of clandestine culinary operation. As much as she tried to make herself fall well within the "guilty" camp, the heat rose within her as she thought of stuffing Ted with delicious and rich dinners until his belt burst under the onslaught of her cooking.
"Well, we wouldn't jam Sarah Lee Pound Cakes down their throats with toilet plungers, if that's what you mean .." Kim huffed, chuckling at the outrageous image that also made Julie laugh, "I don't think we would do anything except make the most scrumptious meals possible and then see if our mates took the bait. If they gain, they gain ... if not, they don't. But the more I think on it, the more I think I could cook food so tempting that Patrick -- vanity or not, rescue squad fitness guidelines or not -- would not be able to resist. I'll bet I could make Patrick fatter than you gals could accomplish with either of your husbands. I've learned a few things over the years."
"Oh, making this into a contest, are we??" Julie leaned over the table towards Kim, eyes blazing with the challenge. "Well, Kimmy ... let me tell you this: I could fatten Robert WAY more than you could fatten Patrick. You would have to get out that plunger to get Patrick to put on more than a pound or two, while Robert would soon be seen carrying his belly around in a wheelbarrow!"
This image made all three of them roar hysterically, rocking in their chairs, until Julie's phone rang and she had to jump up to answer it.
"Hello? Oh, hi dear ... yeah, I remembered. I bought it on the way home from the antiques place. Yep, I picked that up, too. Dinner? Well, I have to run out to get a couple of things"
... (Kim and Rhonda looked at each other, almost laughing, stifling their guffaws as they collectively thought, then mouthed (silently) the words: "Don't forget the PLUNGER, Julie!!") ...
"What was that, dear?" -- Julie waved frantically to try and settle down and stifle Kim and Rhonda, who were still rocking in their chairs, about to burst out laughing
"Yes, Robert ... I'll make that lasagna if you really want that for tonight.
Yeah, I'll buy some dessert, too." The two other women finally started to reduce to a simmer, but were giving each other a wicked, arched-eyebrow look when Julie mentioned the word "dessert."
"OK, bye honey ... love you." -- CLICK! -- Julie hung up the phone and admonished her friends: "You gals are so BAD, you know that?! I thought Robert was going to hear you cackling like a couple of magpies ... I sure wasn't going to explain what was so funny!"
She shook her head as they finally burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves, and wagged her finger. "And NO, I'm not going to get a plunger ... because I don't need it. Maybe you girls do, But I DON'T ... I can manage with just my years of experience in the kitchen."
Kim and Rhonda both looked up at Julie, wiping tears from their eyes, smiling and wondering if they had heard right.
"So, we're DOING it??? We're actually going for it??" Rhonda was astonished that as she said this, she found herself getting aroused by the thought they would attempt such an outrageous thing. Once again, she found herself thinking of Ted's stomach growing larger and larger, protuberant to the point that he needed suspenders to help support the weight of his enormous belly ... she pictured herself climbing onto that mountain of a tummy and making wild and wanton love to his glorious fatness.
What she didn't know was that all the women had similar thoughts as they grinned to each other, about to make a fateful pact.
"Yep, we're doin' it ..." -- Julie felt relieved to be stating the new charter --
"Girls, welcome to the ‘Fat Husbands Club’ -- a secret society where cooking is king and belts are made for breaking. We'll see who can fatten up their men the most, but they can't know what we're up to ... we have to be sneaky about this. It's all "Temptation City," and the rest is up to them. You can lead a husband to a delicious and fattening meal, but you can't make him eat until his shirt buttons pop -- only HE can do that."
Kim looked quizzically at Julie, who was standing by the phone, clapping her hands to her side in glee over their decision. "But wait, Julie ..."
Kim furrowed her brow and shook her head -- "If we're a secret society, we need a secret handshake; every club like this has one."
Julie thought for a moment, then bent over double in laughter, recovering to demonstrate her idea.
Julie grinned and said: "Hey, how about THIS one ..."
She held her hands together, over her belly, and then moved them away, pantomiming a belly growing outward. Kim and Rhonda chortled with delight, but Rhonda said that wasn't enough. They had to have a part of it -- the handshake -- that bound them together in their quest. They were, after all, in this together: they had revealed their secret longings and were now bound by this secret desire to fatten their men.
Julie scurried back to the table, sat down, and remarked that she had the answer. "OK, here! We clap our hands together -- a ‘high five’ -- then do the handshake, the pantomime of our secret quest."
With great gusto, the three wives slapped their hands together, high up over the table in the breakfast nook, then leaned back in their chairs, laughing as they drew their hands out, imitating the ballooning of their husbands' bellies. There was no doubt: they were on their way.
