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BHM Fattened by Farm Girls (BHM to State Fair Fat Man)

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Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
All Broke Down

I was driving cross-country from New York to Los Angeles and since I wasn't in a hurry I had decided to take the road less traveled, avoiding the interstates and sticking to scenic back roads whenever possible.

You see, I am ... or rather was, a freelance writer for magazines and I was pretty good at it, at least until people stopped reading serious news magazines and the print media went completely to hell. I was still writing some, but writing online content was not paying my bills like magazine writing used to. I was pretty much down to my last few hundred dollars and, at a friend's advice, had decided to go west, perhaps to take up screenwriting in Hollywood. I had nothing else to lose and, frankly, welcomed the chance to start over again since my old career was all but in the crapper.

My journey had taken me to a scenic road in Iowa where it seemed as if the road parted endless rows of corn on either side. The land was so flat and there was so much corn that you couldn't see houses or other landmarks -- it was just so different from New York, I loved it.

I was driving my 1973 Fiat Spider (a newer version of the car Dustin Hoffman drove in The Graduate) and a little afraid it wouldn't get me cross country. It was old and needed work, but I loved that car as it had belonged to my father and he had passed it down to me 20 years previously. It had gotten me through college and grad school, a marriage and divorce, and other milestones in my life and nothing would be better than my old reliable getting me across the USA.

The only bad thing about my beloved Spider was that it wasn't exactly roomy and my current body demanded roominess in a motor vehicle. I was maybe 145 pounds when I started driving the car as a teenager, but as of the day I left on my trip was around 325 and the steering wheel was really starting to get in the way of my belly ... or was it the other way around? I had packed on a ton of weight after my divorce five years ago and then with the downturn in my career opportunities.

And I didn't have anything or anyone to lose any weight for, since dating opportunities for fat, penniless men in Manhattan were few and far between. So I just ate and got fatter ... I definitely needed to do something about that once I arrived in L.A. ... or maybe I'd meet a superfat Hispanic woman (one of my fantasies) and we could get fatter together!

I was listening to Outlaw Country on SiriusXM and all the she done him wrong songs weren't helping as it brought back memories of my ex who couldn't stand how fat I'd gotten (and I was only about 250 pounds then!), then left me for her female fitness instructor (now that would make a good country song!). I heard George Jones sing "the King is Gone (and so are you)" and Merle Haggard was singing "Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down (and let the memory of you come around)" when I heard something pop and the Spider started coasting to a stop. I eased her over to the shoulder and popped the hood, having no idea was underneath and how it might be fixed.

The only saving grace was that I was about a hundred yards from a driveway and a big mailbox. So I walked up the road to see what I could see and could make out what appeared to be a large farm house and at least a couple of barns far off in the distance down the driveway. And, about the same time, I saw a cloud of dust and it looked like a pick-up truck was heading my way toward the main road. Maybe I'd be rescued after all or at least be able to call a tow truck.

It was a huge Ford F-250 and looked brand new and behind the wheel was a trim and very attractive woman about my age. When she came to a stop, I noticed there was another woman in the passenger seat and she appeared to be the twin of the driver. All I could think about was that it was a shame I was so fat or I could definitely flirt with one or both of these women!

The driver put down her window and asked if I was in trouble. "Afraid so, my car is broken down a hundred yards down the main road and was wondering if you could recommend a tow service to call." She responded, "you're in luck big man, we'll take you back to the house and get you all fixed up. And it's 2 in the afternoon so you could probably use some lunch, couldn't ya?"

I shook my head yes (I was starving as it had been two hours since I'd had anything to eat), but said "I don't want to inconvenience you ..." She cut me off and said "nonsense" and told her sister to vacate the front seat and climb into the crew cab. Sis said "OK, I guess he's too fat to get in the crew cab so I'll move. Then she looked over at me and said "come on Fatty."

A Hint of Things to Come

I climbed into the truck cab and the other sister immediately got on my case, saying slide the seat back to make sure you have enough room for that big belly." Her sister patted me on the tummy and said "don't mind her, she's a mean girl."

I introduced myself "Quinn" and shook the driver's hand. "I'm Mary and the mean girl here is Marie."

"It seems obvious you're sisters, but are you twins too?"

"Yep. Mean girl is older than me by two minutes."

"And do you both still live on the farm here?"

"I know it seems strange, but yes we do. The house is so big we each have our own space, even when Marie was married they had plenty of privacy." Before I could ask, Mary went on and explained that Marie's husband had passed away a couple of years earlier, in an auto accident. I looked back at Marie and said I was so sorry to hear that and she acted like I wasn't even there. What an ice queen I thought ...

The farm was so big it seemed to take five minutes to reach the house. Mary was definitely right, the house was massive and bespoke that these girls must have had some serious money between them.

The truck sat so high that I had to sort of jump out and when my feet hit the ground my belly wobbled like crazy, causing Mean Girl Marie to snicker and ask her sister if she had just felt an earthquake. Mary shot her a mean glance and said "knock it off Sis, Quinn here is our guest and we need to treat him with respect." Marie threw up her hands and said "whatevs" and sauntered off leaving me alone with Mary.

Mary showed me into the house thru the kitchen door and the first thing I saw were two pies and a cake sitting under glass. "I'll bet you're starved, so I'll call our cook and have her whip you up some lunch. Then you can try out her desserts here -- she is an amazing baker and I honestly amazed I'm not 500 pounds by now having her in the house like this. It takes all my willpower not to have seconds and thirds!"

The cook was an older Hispanic woman, Luisa, who proceeded to pull the substantial remains of a rump roast out of the industrial-size fridge and carved half of it for me, then set out some homemade bread and the other fixins needed for world class sandwiches. Then she poured me some milk and I proceeded to take down two sandwiches worth and then finished off the rest of the beef she had sliced for me. Although I was full, those pies and the cake were definitely singing a siren's song to my stomach and Luisa cut a slice of each one for me -- applie pie, cherry pie, and chocolate frosted pound cake, each with a scoop of ice cream on top.

I was afraid that I was revealing my true gluttony and that Mary would think me a total pig, but she surprisingly seemed to enjoy watching me eat. Unfortunately, Marie walked in as I was working on the desserts, took one disgusted look, and said "no wonder you're so fat, we've got hogs here on the farm that don't eat that much." Again, Mary shot her a dirty look.

But Mean Girl then revealed that she had called the car mechanic in the nearest town and that he was coming to hook my Spider up to his tow truck. Then she said "Sis can give you a ride into town to make the arrangements" and she disappeared as suddenly as she came, kind of like a witch suddenly flying off on her broom.

Mary again apologized for her evil sister and said "well let's get a move on into town, you wash up and we can go."

But when I tried to get up from the chair, I was so stuffed that I had trouble getting upright. Mary smiled, waved Luisa over, and motioned for me to hold out my arms. Then the two women gave me a tug on a count of three and go me to a standing position. As she showed me to the bathroom, Mary patted me again on my big tummy and said "it's good to see a man with such a healthy appetite."

That really got my mind running wild, wondering if this attractive woman was a chubby chaser ... I could definitely picture this skinny little hotty stuffing me full of pie and cake and then riding me like crazy. I even started to get an erection and hoped it wasn't obvious to her under my tight khakis. I hadn't been with a woman in at least three years, so once I hit the bathroom I held my belly up with one hand and quickly jerked myself off with the other. It felt so good imagining making love to that lovely farm girl!

I took a little extra time tidying myself up to look as presentable as a fat guy in too tight clothes could. Then I joined her for the trip into town. On the way, I found out that Mary and Marie were definitely the entreprenuers in this town, as Mary pointed out the various businesses they owned, including the town newspaper, a diner, and a donut shop. I was already in love with this woman -- looks, money, a newspaper publisher, and she owned a donut shop!

She dropped me off at the garage while she checked in at the newspaper office. The mechanic was a youngish guy and admitted that he had never seen a car like mine and didn't even know where to find parts for it. If I needed parts, his estimate was that it might take four to six weeks for them to arrive, given the age of the Fiat and the fact that there probably weren't too many old Spiders sitting in junkyards in Iowa waiting to be cannabilized for parts.

I took the bad news in stride and the mechanic said, "look on the bright side, you might get to spend a few weeks with the Anderson sisters -- you're just the type of guy those girls like."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, no offense dude, but those women like fat guys. But not just fat, I mean REALLY fat. You're probably only half as big as they normally like, but they have a way of fattening their men up."

"Tell me more," I said.

"Well dude, the meaner one of the two, Marie, married this guy about five years ago, and he was probably about your size. But within a couple of years, he probably weighed 800 pounds. He died in a car accident a couple of years ago and when they buried him they needed a six foot wide casket and the pallbearers didn't even try to lift him -- the dude was so damned fat they had to get a crane to lower him into the ground."

"Holy shit" I said. "One of them told me he was in a car accident." "Yeah, he apparently insisted on driving himself and on an icy day he went off the road going round a curve and hit a tree. He probably would have survived, but he was so fat it took them a couple of hours to cut him out of the car and then they had trouble fitting him into the ambulance. By then the damage was done ..."

"That's so sad" I said. Then the mechanic said "watch out and don't let that happen to you." I responded "don't worry" and about that time Mary pulled up out front to pick me up. "Remember what I said" the mechanic shouted as I walked out the door.

Mary asked me what the prognosis was and when I told her it could be as much as four to six weeks, she seemed ecstatic and said "well, you'll just have to stay with us." "I couldn't impose like that." To which she responded, "it's no imposition and I insist you stay with us." Then I received a third tummy pat on the day and Mary said "Luisa will so enjoy having a man around with such a big appetite, and so will I."

Before I could think of anything to say, Mary pulled up in front of the donut shop and told me to come in with her. "Since you're going to be staying with us, I better stock up on donuts -- you LOOK like a donut man, am I right?"

The Livestock Scale

Mary told me to come into the donut shop to help her pick out what I liked. "I want to stock up, since Luisa really likes donuts and Marie and I usually eat one a day, so I'm thinking four dozen ought to hold us for a day or two." OMG I thought!

As she walked up to the counter and said "we'll take four dozen," the counter girl took a look at me and gave Mary a sly wink.

Mary told the counter girl "we'll take half a dozen crullers, since Luisa loves those, and a half dozen glazed blueberry since Marie and I like those, and my friend here will order the other three dozen." I was definitely the fat kid in the donut shop and ordered all my favorites, a dozen chocolate frosted custard filleds and half a dozen each of the plain glazed, glazed chocolate cake, crullers, powdered, glazed blueberry, and jelly filleds. Mary also had me grab a big Coke out of the refrigerated case "to wash everything down."

Mary made sure the chocolate custard filleds were on top and when we got back in the truck, she cracked open the box and started feeding me one. By the time we had made the fifteen minute drive back to the farm, I'd finished off three-quarters of the dozen and Mary seemed kind of turned on by my gluttony.

As we went down the long drive toward the house, Mary made a sudden detour down a dirt path and smiled at me and said "I don't Marie to see the full evidence of your gluttony, so I'm going to give you a tour of the farm so you'll have time to finish eating and give me an opportunity to dispose of the evidence."

"Speaking of Marie, what has she got against me?"

"Nothing really," Mary replied.

"Well it's kind of odd that she gets on my case about being fat, since the mechanic in town mentioned that her husband was a really big guy, like 800 pounds."

"That blabbermouth, he shouldn't have said that. And he was wrong -- at his biggest, Mark was about 875."

"Holy shit" I said. "That's massive!"

"That he was," Mary said. "He would make you look like a twig by comparison!" Then she pulled the truck up behind a barn a few hundred yards from the house (and hidden from Marie's view), and told me "OK lightweight, it's time to finish your donuts." She picked up the tenth donut of the dozen and started feeding it to me, then the eleventh, and then the twelth.

"You do like to eat don't you?" I responded "that should be pretty evident" and patted my full belly with both hands, then used them to hoist it up and then let it drop back onto my lap.

"Oh my sir, you know how to make a woman swoon ... I believe I'm getting the vapors," she said in a mock Southern belle accent while giving my upper belly a good squeeze. "What do you say we hop out and I show you our hay loft? It's only the best hay loft in the whole county."

"Well how can I refuse seeing the best hay loft in the county?"

As we got out of the truck, she reached over and grabbed another box of donuts, and then it was me getting turned on. As we walked into the barn, she pointed out something else that sent my motor into overdrive.

"That's our livestock scale to weigh our hogs and cows -- it has a 2,500 pound capacity. But we originally bought it to weigh Marie's husband once he hit 500 pounds."

I simply had to ask, "how did he get so fat? Seems like he should have had sense to stop at 500 pounds or 600 pounds, but eating your way to almost 900 pounds?"

"What can I say? He was a great guy, but he just couldn't stop eating and got fatter and fatter," then she smiled and slapped me on my big ass and said "kinda like you and these donuts Big Man." She continued "you know, if Mark had lived, I bet he'd be over a half ton by now, he was simply an eating machine and ate more and more every day." Then she opened the second box and stuffed a jelly donut in my mouth!

As I chewed, she grabbed my hand and started toward the hay loft. Access meant climbing a ten foot ladder and I hesitated, wondering if the ladder could support my weight. Mary guessed what I was thinking and said "don't worry, it's made of sturdy wood" and goaded me to climb up the rungs. I'd climbed plenty of ladders in my time, but never at 325 pounds and was pretty winded by the time I reached the top. Mary clambored up behind me but in two-thirds less time, all the while carrying the donut box.

I lay panting on the floor and she popped another donut in my mouth, then started taking off her boots, Western shirt, and tight jeans. Underneath, her lithe little body was spectacular and my boys sprung into action again. She reached out her arms to help pull me up and said "now we need to get your clothes off Big Man."

Once on my feet, she reached underneath my belly hang, grabbed my crotch, and exclaimed "my you're pretty big down there too, aren't you Big Man?" Soon we were rolling the hay and I loved what that skinny little farm girl was doing to my big fat body, all the while feeding me the remaining donuts! It was the ultimate in stuffing and f---ing ...

As we lay snuggling afterwards, she whispered in my ear "how about we get this big fat body of yours on the livestock scale?"

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