Fat Wife - by The Feeders Grimm (~BBW, ~XWG)

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The Feeders Grimm

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~BBW, ~XWG - Movin' on up - new neighborhood, new and improved body!

Fat Wife

by The Feeders Grimm


When we moved into the new neighborhood it was immediately obvious that my wife was the hottest woman on the block.

After about six weeks we realized she was also the least “catty”.

The other women, apparently motivated by envy, were very friendly to her, in that “fake smile” kind of way that a lot of women seem to grow up knowing. Almost every day they would invite her to lunch, or tea, or cocktails, or some other kind of afternoon social. I don’t know what they fed her at them – it took a little while before I realized that only her body was changing as a result of their parties – but each day my wife would walk the cul-de-sac home a little rounder, a little softer, and a little heavier than she’d been that morning – and I mean visibly. They must have been lacing her drinks with something.

Her body started to fill out; an inch here, a half-inch there, and though neither of us said anything (at first) it was obvious that we both liked it. So she continued to accept their invitations and pretend she was oblivious to the falseness of their friendships – letting them fatten her on their tab.

As the days of summer drew to a close, her stomach softened, her breasts swelled and her back plumpened. She took to wearing long skirts – “hippy skirts” she called them – to disguise how big her legs were getting, but they couldn’t hide the swell of her hips or the size of her butt. Often, the skirt would fall between her increasingly plump cheeks, outlining her booty’s jiggle.

The day we finally talked about her growth was late August. I had cooked her a big dinner (by no means interested in discouraging her voluptuousness) and as we cleared the table she noticed me staring.

“You like this,” she said, turning to face me. She put down the plate she was holding and peeled off her shirt, then reached into her DD bra and gingerly pulled out one E-sized breast. “You like watching me swell.”

I couldn’t answer, at that moment; I don’t think I needed to.

“You know,” she continued, carefully replacing and readjusting herself – I definitely needed to buy her some bigger bras – “This was the second dinner I’ve had tonight. We had a meal at Kathy’s earlier, before you came home. I didn’t want to put a damper on your hard work, and besides, you really are a wonderful chef. But you know what the funny thing is?”

She took a step closer. I swallowed.

She re-settled the waistband of her hippy skirt below her cute, soft, plush little belly. An inch and a half of tanned flesh bulged above it. She put her hand to one side of her tummy and said, “The funny thing is, even after two dinners, I’m still hungry.”

I found my voice. “What would you like, milady?”

“Hmm. Ice cream. Meet me in the bedroom.”

Two minutes later, she was reclined on the bed against a “husband” pillow, with her plump legs drawn up, but open. She had removed her bra and skirt and was wearing only cream-colored silk panties. I knelt between her thick, chubby thighs and leaned across her to feed her, so she could feel just how excited I was (and vice versa). Meanwhile, she cupped her overfed mammaries and played with them while I fed her the ice cream; once or twice I missed her mouth with the spoon and accidentally landed a mouthful of the stuff on her cute little nose, so distracted was I by the view. When she had polished off the carton, I teased her fattened nipples into alertness with the cold spoon and gently massaged her stuffed rounded belly. Suddenly she wrapped her heavy legs around me and pulled me close…

And so the days of early fall passed. Between the efforts of my neighbors and my own stellar cooking – rich, large-portioned meals – my wife’s figure became fuller and fuller with each day. Her beautiful smiles widened and her cute dimples deepened; she was plump, round, and buxom. Her legs and butt in particular were becoming tubbier, and her bosom looked uncomfortably compressed by an F bra.

Soon, the holiday season was upon us, which would have meant she got fatter in a normal year. This year, however, her expansion was delightfully bolstered by a steady influx of mysterious “goodies” – mostly baked goods – delivered to the doorstep by the neighbors. She happily ate them all. They routinely came in increments of a dozen and a half; I’d come home from work to find three or four left.

One day when I got home I found her reading on the floor of our living room by the fireplace. She was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, and I knew without looking that her bountiful bosoms were filling all the space between her shoulders and the floor. She was wearing a pair of cotton booty shorts and munching on one of the latest batches of cookies, and I could swear that her thighs and butt were getting chubbier before my very eyes. She looked over her softened shoulder and grinned at me mischievously.

Her gain slowed to a pause after New Year’s. And then there was Valentine’s day.

My first gift to her was an enormous (and fattening) breakfast in bed. After she finished it, she sat up patting her soft paunch, and headed into the dining room. I got dressed for work and when I came out of the bedroom, I was more than a little surprised to see the table groaning under the weight of a feast. Her gift to me, it turned out, was to eat and fatten herself all day long. She gave me a good-luck kiss for the day, then showed me a small canister in her hand – “I found out where Kathy’s been getting her gaining supplement, and special-ordered some, just for today.”

I was dumbfounded. I really wanted to watch, but I had to go work, and so I reluctantly bundled myself out the door as my carpool honked the second time.

When I got home that night, I was worried at first when she didn’t answer my hello. I found her where I had left her – in the dining room, fast asleep. But I was amazed. She had deliberately chosen to sit on a low, sturdy, wide-seated stool for her day of gluttony. We had been using it as a piano bench, although it was the wrong dimensions – four inches too short, and not nearly as narrow. When I left, its width had made even her hips appear only moderately voluptuous. Now, her hugely fattened thighs and enormous booty dwarfed it. Her hips, back, and most especially her belly, had burst through her jeans’ button and zipper and folded it down. It was also torn around each back pocket, stretched like a second skin over her orbital butt cheeks, and split at the seams all the way down her legs. Even her calves were bulging out of them. Her swollen belly filled all the space between her wide-spread legs and the top of the table. Her breasts – I didn’t know what size they were now, but I suspected that any cup that would fit them would be too big for me to wear as a hat – were resting, or perhaps I should say spread, upon the tabletop, and she’d wrapped her round fat arms about them, and laid her head down, and simply fallen asleep where she sat, too stuffed to move.

Strong as I was, she was too big now for me to do anything but lay her down gently on the carpeted floor. I got the comforter from our bed and lay down next to her, spreading it over us, and snuggled up against her newly exaggerated curves. I woke up the next morning to find her laughing.

“You know what the funny thing is?” my beautiful wife said to me, “I’m still hungry.”

She put her hand down between my legs. “But not for food.”
 

Armadillojellybeans

chariots chariots
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Very nice story, you get a real feel from it, like it is an actual scenario, and I love that, and it is very "seductive" in nature, two thumbs up!
 

earthlykaiser

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Nov 2, 2007
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It seemed a tad fast-paced, as in skipping long periods of time, I know that with this sort of story it's a given, because "Hey, there's only a handful of people who really enjoy good ol' stuffing scenes in weight-gain stories".
 

Sparrow

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I agree with ChubbyBlackSista. Part II would be good.

Also, I like this story because it's short and too the point.
 

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