BHM How Kenny Got His Groove Back (BHM, XWG, Romance)

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Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Memorial Day
by Fiji​

I wake abruptly from a deep sleep, feeling a vague sense of disappointment that my pleasant dream has been cut short yet unable to quite remember what had made it so pleasant. Striving mightily to remember, I sense I am sporting a full-on erection and reach under my substantial belly just to confirm. Feeling the evidence firsthand, I mutter to myself, "yep, that must have been some dream!"

As the cobwebs begin to dissipate, the image is recreated in my mind of a larger me ... a much larger me ... if that is even possible. That must have been it! Then another image, this time of my new bride Kate, fondling my belly ... only it is a belly that feels at least a couple of hundred pounds heavier than my current one, so heavy I can barely move. And Kate commending me about how "perfect" I am at that weight and encouraging me to become "even more perfect." As the dream slowly begins to come back to me, I feel my erection intensify even more ... that is until I roll over, not without some difficulty, and take a look at the digital clock on the nightstand.

It reads 8:17 and I mutter, "shit," knowing that I should have been up at least an hour ago to get ready for work. But as I struggle to get up, a welcome wave of serenity washes over me, as I realize it is Memorial Day -- no work today! My mind then wanders back to that erection raging deep underneath all my fat, that is until my sense of smell kicks in and I realize that Kate must be cooking up something great in the kitchen! She is an amazing cook and our comfortable home in the Buckhead section of Atlanta is always awash in the delectable aromas of Southern home cooking, something I'd never really known until I moved in with her eight months ago, leaving behind my lifetime home in the Washington suburbs and a lot of bad memories.

Completely naked, as that is the way I sleep now, it being so much more comfortable, I shuffle over to the master bath, my belly wobbling crazily with each step. Before relieving myself, however, I take a detour to the scale, a new bariatric model that Kate gave me as a wedding present, and discover that I've gained a few pounds since last week. That has been the consistent trend since I moved in with Kate. Already meeting the definition of morbid obesity when I moved in, I've now put on another 120 pounds, all testament to Kate's incredible cooking and her encouragement of me, in that incredibly sexy high-brow Southern accent of hers, to "finish it all," not that I really need the encouragement as my appetite just seems to be endless now ...

Pulling on a pair of underwear and an old, too-tight t-shirt that doesn't begin to cover the big bottom roll of my double belly, I exit the bedroom and let my nose lead me toward the tantalizing aromas emanating from the kitchen. The house, which Kate had originally shared with her late first husband, is all on one level, a huge plus for big fatty like me, and it takes me less than thirty seconds to reach the kitchen. I spy Kate at the sink, her back to me, and it is a truly spectacular sight. No lightweight herself, she is naked except for an apron tied in the back, and her amazing derriere beckons me toward her, like a siren's song luring a sailor to the rocks.

Moving as stealthily as I can, I am tempted to snag a piece of bacon, or six, from the couple of dozen sitting on the granite counter, but for once I exhibit some self-control around food and instead proceed directly to that delectable cellulite-dimpled derriere of Kate's. As I get within reach of my inviting target, I give one of her massive orbs a playful slap, then the other, watching them sway gracefully from side-to-side. Of course, that startles Kate so much that she drops the serving dish that she is washing in the sink, causing it to break. Pivoting around, she gives me a look of extreme disdain, then gives my imposing lower belly a big slap with her rubber gloved hand. Finally a big smile comes to her face, then a fit of laughter, as she sees all that jiggling of fat that results from her little slap. I ask, "am I forgiven?" And she responds, "how could I be mad at my big fat sexy husband?"

"Are you hungry?," she asks.

"Have you ever known me NOT to be hungry?"

Grasping my bottom roll with both hands, she responds, "the evidence would suggest otherwise counselor!" I laugh and say, "the defense will stipulate to that fact if the prosecution will feed me some breakfast."

"You'll have to wait for me to finish everything, but I've got a coffee cake sitting on the table and you can start on that ... just leave some for me, OK?"

"Sure babe."

"I mean it," she says, "don't eat all the coffee cake!"

"Would I do that?"

"Yes you would -- no food is safe around you!"

18 Months Earlier

Glenda, my wife of several years, is away for the afternoon, as she seems to be a lot nowadays. So much so that it really makes me wonder sometimes just what she is doing. Maybe she's having a torrid affair, I think momentarily, then dismiss the idea with a little laugh ... not Glenda!

But today it gives me some private time to engage in my recently acquired guilty pleasure of Fantasy Feeder. After years of occasionally surfing the site, my acquisition of a new i-Pad with a built-in camera finally convinced me it was time to dive in a bit deeper and boy have I dove in. Not only have I posted a few pics of my big 245-pound double belly, but also several weightgain fiction stories to boot.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I started, particularly whether my belly would stack up with some of the other huge male bellies I had seen on Fantasy Feeder. Or whether my stories would even attract any readers. Quite to my surprise, the pics received a lot of likes and even generated some fan mail. And the stories really took off, getting thousands of views in seemingly no time at all. And more likes and comments and encouragement to write more.

As I open up my iPad to see what's new, I find a message from a fan in Atlanta and look up her profile to find she is about the same age as me, just a couple of years younger, and perhaps just a little shy as her profile information is kind of skimpy and she has posted no pics of herself. Turns out she really likes my newest story as my female character is physically and temperamentally a lot like her -- "brunette (my favorite) with great eyes and a cute little pug nose and pudgy dimpled cheeks ... and a wonderful smile and a killer laugh." My story revolves around a divorced fat man of 325 pounds who goes to Vegas and meets the woman of his dreams, a pear-shaped 440-pound beauty. They make a quick and very torrid connection and the rest is history, they live happily ever after.

I quickly type out a response to her message, thanking her for liking my story and maybe engaging in a little extra banter intended to find out a little more about her. Seemingly seconds later she responds to my response, indicating that my story is perfect, "really stirring her fantasies," except that in her mind she would be the 325 pounder and the man would be the 440 pounder, not the other way around. Seems she REALLY likes super fat men and being kind of turned on by that idea, I quickly bang out another response. An hour, and ten more back and forth exchanges, later I feel like I really know this woman and am pretty intrigued. I let her know I'm happily married, and she lets me know she is a widow and bemoans the fact that all the nice guys (presumably me included) seem to be married or gay! I assure her that someone as witty and smart as her will find the right guy.

But in the back of my mind, I muse about what might be if I wasn't married and could meet this seemingly great woman in person. Then I snap back to reality and tell myself it can't possibly happen ... but the thought still creeps back into my mind, "what if?"


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
The Coffee Cake Incident

Not bothering to use a knife, I reach into the box and pluck out a large slab of coffee cake with my bare hand. Taking a big bite, I have to admit, this store bought coffee cake is amazing! It is chock full of cinnamon flavoring and complements my big steaming cup of Columbian coffee perfectly, a true treat for my taste buds.

Polishing off the first slab, I reach back in and grab another big slab, leaving only about half the coffee cake left. As I finish off the second slab, I look over and see that Kate hasn't even begun making the eggs, so I figure I have ample time for a third big slab and reach into the box yet once more.

But glancing over at her again, she seems to be purposefully dawdling in her efforts to fix my breakfast, and my dissatisfaction and pig-like greed get the better of me, as I remove the remaining half of the coffee cake from the box and start wolfing it down. Four big bites later it's all gone and I'm trying to figure out how to hide the evidence from my buxom bride who is no doubt hungry herself.

The trash bin is right behind me and I take the box into my hand and surreptitiously attempt to dispose of the evidence, but Kate turns her head around just as I am about to do so and catches me in the act. But rather than anger, she smiles and exclaims, "you demolished that ENTIRE coffee cake!" I look sheepishly at her and rationalize my actions by saying, "but I was hungry babe ..." That elicits another smile and a "you're ALWAYS hungry my big sexy hippo!"

Kate doesn't like calling me names like "Fatty," finding that demeaning even though it would be a big turn on for me. But "hippo" is her little term of endearment for me and I just melt when she calls me that in her delightful Southern accent. And since moving in with her I truly have become a big fat and hungry, hungry hippo, I have to admit.

Then she asks the question I've been waiting for, "did you weight yourself this morning?"

"Of course I did babe!"


"432 pounds," I respond proudly.

"Oh my God," Kate exclaims, "you've finally reached your 'perfect' weight! You do remember that don't you?"

"How could I ever forget? That was the first real encouragement you offered me to gain weight, to unleash my full gainer potential."

"And you finally did it for me," Kate replies, with a little hint of a tear in her eye.

17 Months Earlier

17 Months Earlier

Kate and I have been corresponding regularly since our original online introduction and I am always excited when I see that I have a message from her. Finally deciding that Fantasy Feeder is a clunky way of communicating, we finally shared our personal email addresses and our first names, Ken and Kate. We have even gone so far as to share pictures of ourselves, giving each other strict instructions not to share them online.

I was tremendously impressed with the first pics she sent of herself as she was in fact the embodiment of the character in my Vegas story -- a very beautiful woman indeed with healthy breasts, belly, and buttocks (what I call the "Holy Trinity"). And though not the 430 pound woman in my story, she was a still very impressive 345 pounds. While I had harbored fantasies of being with a beautiful woman of that size since my teenage years, I have never in fact had such good fortune, and her pics began stirring my fantasies just as my stories were stirring hers.

But I feared that she may have been underwhelmed by the pics I sent her. She made it clear that she preferred guys who were 400 pounds or greater, but added that she thought my belly was impressive for such a "lightweight." While disappointed that she didn't think me a bona fide heavyweight, I took it as a personal challenge to prove her wrong, starting with shooting a little video on my iPad showing how much my belly moved when shaken, and asking her whether "a 'lightweight' belly would jiggle like this?"

And I have just received her response ... and what a response it is! "Every soft belly jiggles, but I think more (weight) would suit you!" And she attached a video of a man, "Fat Exhibitionist," with a double belly that looked much like mine, but maybe 150 to 200 pounds heavier than me, who filmed himself taking a shower. This guy is freakin' huge and I have to admit seeing his belly and man boobs shake in that shower turns me on just a bit, thinking that any woman might like to see me become as enormous as him. But it is quickly becoming apparent to me that Kate isn't just any woman.

I quickly respond back that even though it is fun to imagine myself at that weight, I really don't ever see myself ever getting bigger than 300 pounds. But, just for fun, I send her a couple of images of another big guy on Fantasy Feeder, Enkil, who has the exact same belly type as me (distinct top and bottom rolls, with the bottom roll being bigger around and hanging precipitously down the thighs), but who outweighs me by quite a lot, close to 200 pounds in fact. His profile says he's 430 pounds, so my note to Kate is that "this is what I'd look like @ 430 -- what do you think?" Her response? "Your belly is cute, but I like Enkil's more. Oh, and by the way, 430 pounds would represent perfection for you ..."

Wow, I think -- she would like to see me gain close to 200 pounds? While eating myself anywhere near that weight seems like a really bad idea for so many reasons, the thought still greatly intrigues me, since from a young age I have harbored fantasies of being enormously fat, much much more than my current 245 pounds (maybe not Robert Earl Hughes fat since it would be hard to get around at more than a half ton, but my fantasies frequently had me exceeding the quarter ton mark!). So I message Kate again, playfully asking if she was the author of my story, "how fat would you write me, oops, I mean my male character? 400 pounds? 500 pounds? 650 pounds?" Almost immediately I receive her response:

"400 pounds is the minimum for a really good look. From there, I find a man breathtaking, which means that up to 500 pounds is perfect." I'm getting an erection just reading this and now another message arrives: "so I would take it slowly, first to 450 pounds and then eventually up to 650 pounds, so I could enjoy the development and show off the man for as long as possible, parading him around Atlanta to show off my sexy super fat boyfriend to everyone. Then when you, oops I mean your character, gets too fat to go out anymore, I'd keep him comfortable at home, feeding him my home-cooked Southern food and pampering him like the big fat overseer of a grand old Georgia plantation."

Oh my God!


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Don't Let The Eggs Burn

With more tears streaming down her face, Kate says, "I'm so happy ... I've been teasing you for such a long time about reaching your 'perfect' weight but I never thought you'd actually let yourself get that fat ... but you did it ... did it for me."

"Don't cry baby ..."

Through a sniffle, she says, "oh you know me, I'm just a softy. But this really means a lot to me ... now I know you truly love me. Now stand up and give me a hug you big fat lug!"

With a big shit-eating grin on my face, I wrap my arms around Kate's considerable expanse and whisper in her ear, "so who's the lightweight now?" "I think it's me," she whispers back, and adds, "although I've put on a bit of weight myself while keeping you so well fed." "I've noticed," I tell her, then add, "but another fifty pounds would look great on you ..."

She gives me a knowing laugh, since that has been a consistent line of hers to me over the course of our friendship, courtship, and now marriage. As we continue our embrace, she exclaims, "and to think that I outweighed you by a hundred pounds when we first got acquainted and now you are close to outweighing me by a hundred ... I figure another month or two of my Southern home cooking ought to be enough to do it ..."

"Speaking of that," I tell her, "you better check those eggs ... and be a good feeder and hand me that platter of bacon ... that coffee cake isn't going to tide me over much longer!"

She laughs and says, "I swear, you are going to eat us out of house and home!"

"I thought that was your plan for me ..."

Kate laughs again and returns to her, or should I say "my," eggs. But as she starts scrambling, I come up with an ingenious idea, "hey hon, what do you say we have breakfast in bed, it being a holiday and all? You can load up the food cart nice and full and wheel it in and we can feed each other and then maybe do some other stuff ..."

"What kind of stuff do you have in mind Big Boy?"

"You know ... stuff."

"OK then, I'll give you a plate of eggs and bacon to tide your over, then give me another 20 minutes and I'll wheel in a feast befitting my big fat hubby ... enough to make you outgrow that new 66 Portly business suit of yours!"

"Did I tell you I love you Kate?"

12 Months Earlier

My weight has just been doing crazy things over the last year or so. Not too long ago, it hovered between 265 and 270, but over the course of three or four months, and without really trying, I had dropped down to 245. But since becoming online friends with Kate, it has rebounded to my old level and I've even packed on a few more pounds to spare, 14 more in fact. I don't feel like I'm eating more or doing anything much different, which is the really strange thing. So strange in fact, it reminds me of the stories where a kindly, but sneaky, witch casts a fattening spell on an unsuspecting man so that he balloons to enormity.

Maybe, just maybe Kate has cast such a spell on me (come to think of it, she would look so sexy in a black witch's hat!), since nothing else seems to explain my gain. Or maybe I'm just subconsciously packing on the pounds to make myself more "acceptable" to Kate, craving her attention since I'm not getting as much of it from Glenda as I used to ...

Anyhow, last night, when the wife was out with some friends (or at least said she was), and just for fun, I took a picture of myself standing on the scale that read 284 pounds, and posted it on Fantasy Feeder with a comment that I'd put on 39 pounds in the last twelve months. While other online friends congratulated me on my gain, Kate's response was basically that it wasn't nearly enough of a gain:

"Keep growing like that and you might be 'acceptable' in five years!

That is a little deflating, which Kate perhaps recognizes and compensates by adding "only a joke! :) Of course, you are nearly perfect now, but you will look even better then ..."

Taking up the challenge, I respond, "maybe I can speed it up a bit for you ..."

And her response? "I'm sure you can but will you?"

"I'd probably need an encourager ..."

At which point Kate lowers the boom, "but what would your wife think?"

Images come to my mind of my wife and Kate teaming up to feed me to my "perfect" weight of 430 pounds, encouraging me when I get full by saying "just one more bite Fatty," but I really suggest that to Kate and evade the question instead.

But it gets me thinking, if I continue gaining at this pace, I'll be at like 325 pounds by this time next year. And while that no doubt will please Kate, it's highly unlikely to please Glenda, who has already taken to chiding me about my weight on a weekly, if not daily, basis, usually followed by leaving the house for a few hours and returning, usually in a much happier mood, for whatever reason.

To deflect Kate's pointed question, I remember a GIF I saw on Tumblr earlier that day, of a man with a double belly like mine, only much fuller, whom I guessed was in the 400-pound range. Someone was standing behind him, arms reached around the big belly and shaking it up and down, really pretty erotic I have to admit. So I forward the GIF to Kate with the question, "would this be a good look for me?"

She's effusive in her response, much more so than usual ...

"Fantastic!!! Your lower belly filling up your pants so nicely and your upper belly so round and hanging over your belt ..."

"An enticing proposition," I respond.

"Oh yes," she responds back, you would look so portly and prosperous, jovial and comfortable, and for me, oh so sexy! :) And probably so distinguished in your business suit ... just the consummate fat professional man! Of course, I'd prefer to see you without the business suit ..."

This greatly amuses me and I respond "Portly and Prosperous? I really like that, it would make a great Fantasy Feeder or Tumblr handle!"

She sends me a smiley face emoticon in return, no doubt thinking I'm daft, and then puts the icing on the cake for me: "You know, I'd really love to be the person standing behind you shaking that big belly up and down, my boobs and belly pressed firmly into your back, feeling the sheer enormity of you and knowing that you're likely to get even more enormous for me ..."

Although I'm married and have no plans not to be, I find myself totally enamored of this woman, and before I know it, I have typed the response, "that would be so divine ... I can't imagine anything better than having your body pressed against mine." Then I add, "is it getting hot in here?"

Kate responds, "yes it is, and maybe we should call it a night before we get anymore sexually frustrated ..."

I agree that it's late and time to turn in, and we bid each other fond adieu. I look at my watch and wonder why Glenda still isn't home (where could she be at 11 at night?).

I decide to hop into our bed anyway, and as I lie there, I start thinking to myself ... I've gained the last few months without really trying so what if I actually set my mind to it? I could probably be over 300 pounds in a couple of months and maybe to 325 within six months. I've fantasized for most of my life about being that fat, and what would be the harm, after all?

There seem to be plenty of pro's, but then that one big con -- Glenda's reaction -- crosses my mind. What would she do? Maybe she would send me to a fat farm (another old fantasy of mine, except that I would find a way to gain weight there!) or insist that I have a gastric bypass or maybe even ask for a divorce ...

But nah! I doubt she'd do anything like that just because I get a little fatter on her ... after all, I was fat when we first met, back when I was in law school and she was an undergrad, so she knew what she was getting into marrying me. Plus, she's been bringing home more treats than usual -- donuts, eclairs, cakes, pies, cookies, you name it, and seems pleased when she gets home and sees that I've gobbled them all up -- so maybe she secretly likes me fat and wants me fatter. Yeah, that must be it!


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Breakfast in Bed

I'm laying naked in bed, head and back propped up by pillows and perusing Fantasy Feeder and Tumblr to get in the mood, when Kate finally wheels in the food cart. I absolutely love that food cart -- it was my wedding gift to her, but I seem to be getting far more of the use of it, at least judging from my much greater weight gain compared to her!

I remove the sheet to reveal my nakedness to her. But I'm so fat now that she cannot tell if I'm sporting an erection or not. And to be truthful, it was the same when I moved in eight months ago, when I was 120 pounds lighter. Yes, I am THAT fat.

"Let's take a peak under the hood, shall we?," she says in that twang I cannot resist, and I pull back my apron so she can see my big erection barely peaking out from underneath. "Looks like someone is ready to be fed," she exclaims in a dramatic voice learned when she was a high school and college thespian, then removes her apron and slips one hand down into the expanse of her womanhood to show me she is ready for a little action too.

She sees that I have long since polished off the skimpy little plate (four scrambled eggs and a dozen pieces of bacon) that she handed me in the kitchen. Retrieving a huge bowl of scrambled eggs from the food cart, she sits her plump behind beside me on the bed and brings a large serving fork full to my eager lips. Then another and another, pausing only to reach for the serving plate of bacon, which she stations atop my belly. As she dangles a piece over my waiting lips with one hand, her other hand reaches under my lower belly to locate my rigid cock. With the platter of bacon resting on my belly it is difficult for me to practice reciprocity on her, so I let her continue to feed me with one hand and tug at my member with the other.

But soon enough she is ready to be pleasured herself, and removes the platter from atop my belly and puts it on the other side of me, so that I can roll over on my side and pay some attention to my zaftig bride. But first I have to move the big bowl of scrambled eggs from between us, but not before feeding her a couple of big forkfuls and reaching for a slice of bacon to dangle just out of reach of her lips until she begs me for it! Finally, I relent and slowly lower it into her mouth with my left hand while using the thumb and forefinger of my right hand to gently pinch her clitoris. A loud moan ensues but I'm sure if it's from the bacon or my expert fingering of her lady parts.

I find that maybe I'm not so expert, as she moans at me "more bacon!" "You mean sausage?," I ask, and although that elicits a coquettish laugh, she answers, "no, more bacon -- I had to cook and didn't get to each as much as you this morning!" I laugh as I know she probably ate at least a dozen slices of bacon as she was frying it all up, but I play along and deposit the serving platter atop her belly so that I can feed my bride with one hand and go back to my expert ministrations with the other. Plus, with the platter atop her belly, she can also feed me the occasional slice!

Before long, the remaining two dozen slices are all gone and Kate is moaning loudly as I finger her womanhood. "Still hungry babe, more eggs?," I ask. "No!," she moans back, "I need sausage!"

"Sausage it is then, but I might need a minute to get it to the right temperature ..."

"Did you lose your boner?," she asks in a tone of consternation, like I shouldn't keep her waiting, with her engine all fired up and everything.

"No, I just need to ramp it back up a little ..."

"Jesus Kenny, to I have to do everything?"

"What do you mean Honey Bunch?"

"You know I don't like to do this, but I know it gets you fired up like nothing else, so I'm only doing this for you ... "


"I can't believe what a fat tub of lard you've become Kenny! Or should I just take to calling you "Fatso"? Or "Tubby" or "Two Ton"? You know I love fat men, but before long you are going to be truly enormous -- 500 pounds for sure, I mean you'll probably hit that in six months, then 650 pounds if you keep eating like you are now. Hell, Fat Boy you eat so much you'd probably hit a thousand pounds in no time, if I let you!"

I know she despises calling anyone names, and she has never told me why, but I suspect that maybe her late husband called her rude names as she gained weight over the years. I keep telling her for me, at least, it's an extreme turn-on and right now it's really turning me on, so much so that within seconds I have parted Kate's deliciously thick legs and have them pointed skyward. She reaches her hands between her spread legs and helps me fit my ponderous belly through the gap, so that it now rests comfortably on her much smaller belly. And after both of us wiggle our body parts a little, I gain complete access to her warm and very wet womanhood and slowly start working away (at our combined weight of close to 800 pounds, sex will never be fast!). Slow and steady is the name of the game and what a fun game it is.

I can expound all day on the joys of fat on fat sex! All of the soft flesh, all the ripples and quakes it creates in both our bodies, the feeling of the kinship that only two fatties like us can share ... it's just so divine ... and such a change from what it had been like with Glenda the last few years. I feel totally liberated now and I have it all to owe to Kate, sweet sexy zaftig Kate!

As our fat gyrates this way and that with each small thrust I take and each small parry she returns, I can't believe how incredibly turned on by this woman and how seemingly she is turned on in return. Soon she is moaning again, as am I, only I'm getting too fatigued from the effort to say much. So Kate says it all ... "remember when I said ... (oh!) ... that you should take it slowly ... (do that again!) ... first to 450 pounds ... (that's it baby!) ... then up to 650? (oh my God Fatty!)"

Oh my God indeed! Sounds like I have a lot more feedings in store. 650 pounds here I come!


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Nine Months Earlier

Glenda left a voicemail on my office line, saying she was feeling ill, was going home early, and would see me at my usual arrival time of 7. But by 4, I had finished the legal brief I was working on, handed it back to my first-year associate, and decided I'd leave early and and surprise my wife with some chicken soup from the neighborhood deli, as that's her usual sicktime home remedy of choice.

It's 5 by the time I arrive home and I open the front door as quietly as I can, figuring that she's napping. Slipping off my Gucci loafers (yes, I'm and old school dresser like that), I pad quietly in my sock feet, but what is that I hear? I stop in my tracks and listen carefully, discovering that Glenda is on the phone and not sounding the least bit under the weather. In fact, she sounds downright giddy, laughing like a school girl.

My suspicions are aroused and instead of announcing "honey I'm home," I creep as stealthily as I can to within a few feet of our open master bedroom door to eavesdrop on the conversation. From the tone of things, I surmise it is her best friend Doris, an old sorority sister from college at the University of Virginia, and who has known me since I started dating Glenda thirty years ago.

"Oh what a day ... I left early from work and told Kenny I was feeling sick."

After a pause, she continues, "but I've had a simply miraculous recovery courtesy of Jack and his magic wand ..."

Who in the Hell is Jack? I rack my brain trying to remember anyone I know by that name, but I come up completely empty.

Then "oh God no, he's nothing like Kenny! You know as well as I do that Kenny has always been fat, but he's just massive now, a real porker. Do you realize he's over 300 pounds now? I went to our family practice doctor last week and he showed me Kenny's file -- he was 306 pounds on his last visit. The doctor was begging me to make him lose weight -- he's put on like sixty pounds in a little over a year -- he even suggested that I withhold sex to see if that will work ..."

Another pause and she continues, "oh Hell no, I'm always on top and doing all the damn work. Kenny hasn't been on top in at least 75 pounds -- he tries to do it, then that big saggy belly gets in the way and I get frustrated and make him roll over and pull back his belly fat so I can even mount him."

Some more silence on her end of the line, then "Jack, Jack, what can I say about Jack? We do it in positions I didn't even know existed. And that body ... it's fun for a change to see muscles that aren't buried under layers and layers and more layers of blubber ..."

Another slight pause, while I am slowly dying, and she continues, "that's OK, I think Kenny enjoys eating more than screwing anyway. He's certainly always doing it, and I finally just decided to play along ... I'm bringing home more and more fattening treats for him to eat while I'm off doing it with Jack and, without fail, there is nothing but crumbs left by the time I make it back home. The man certainly loves to eat and it's totally showing on his body now -- you'd hardly recognize him now Dor, I'm serious, he's so much fatter than the last time you saw him a few months ago. And what's worst is that it's all going to his belly -- I swear if he keeps it up that bottom blubber roll of his is going to hang to his knees! I wish you could see it Dor, he's so damned fat it's almost erotic watching it all wiggle!"

More silence while Doris talks and I think about walking away as I can't take it anymore. But Glenda finally starts talking again and this is the crusher -- "I know I shouldn't be cheating on poor fat Kenny, but Jack is like crack, I'm addicted and can't get enough. Did I tell you we're getting together for Round Two tonight? On my way back from Jack's place just now I stopped at Kenny's favorite bakery and bought him a dozen chocolate eclairs -- it was actually Jack's idea, he thinks it's funny that I'm married to such a glutton -- anyway, after my miraculous recovery, I'm going to tell Kenny I have a charity board meeting tonight that I just can't miss."

Another slight pause, then, "suspicious? I doubt it -- Kenny's always on his iPad looking at who knows what, fat women probably, and when he's not doing that he's eating whatever is in the house ... I figure Kenny will be perfectly content tonight, surfing the web and making love to his eclairs, getting even fatter and fatter, blissfully unaware that Jack and I are screwing each other's eyes out ..."

That's it, I can't stand to eavesdrop on this conversation any longer, and silently pad to the kitchen to find those eclairs. After that Glenda and I are going to have a good long talk ...


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Lazing in Bed

I lie eyes closed, letting my other senses savor the experience of Kate lying beside me. She titillates me just with her touch, gently stroking my belly, pausing occasionally to lift my apron then let it drop, whispering "this belly is what turns me on. You've gained so much weight baby, but what is so amazing that it all goes to your belly ... sure, a little bit goes to your thighs and butt ... and your upper arms are getting so flabby ... and your moobs are incredible ... but nothing like this belly.

She pauses to feed me one of the remaining slices of bacon, but not before sending me into total sensory overload ... first wafting it under my nose to arouse my sense of smell ... then gently sliding it up my belly, from belly button to moobs, to titillate my sense of touch ... then taking a bite herself and chewing slowly, the sound driving me crazy with food lust ... and finally reaching the rest of the slice to my lips so I can finally taste its greasy salty goodness.

Her assault of my senses momentarily completed, Kate continues in her praise of my belly. "Your belly, your belly, what can I say about your belly? Have I told you that I love your belly? I've never seen one like yours and I still can't believe it's all mine ... this big taut top roll as big a normal fat man's ball belly ... but what's really amazing is this super soft and jiggly bottom roll ... it just hangs so low and sexy ... and I can't keep my hands off it!"

I can't stay silent any longer and my feelings pour out. "Babe, sure I had fantasies, but I never really imagined that I could ever be as fat as I am ... but I absolutely love being this fat ... and it's all because of you."


"Ye s you! I love it that you love me being so fat and you make me want to get even fatter ... that is if you want me to."

"I would but only if that is what you want ..."

"Well, I'm still not completely sold on 650 pounds [she giggles] ... but I'm definitely up for 500."

"That would be almost perfect ..."


" To be honest Kenny, you'd be perfect at any weight," but Kate then sneaks in, "but more would be better ..."

"You're incorrigible ..."

"I know, but you've come so far Kenny, and can you blame a girl for wanting to see if her super sexy hubby's apron eventually touching his knees?"

"I guess not ... now feed me another slice of bacon ..."


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Eight and a Half Months Earlier

I've moved out of the house and Glenda and I have filed for divorce. And I've raised the possibility to my firm of moving to our Atlanta office, since I have some longstanding clients down there. The tentative conversations have gone well and I'm ready to move to the next phase of my post-Glenda plan.

I've kept it secret from Kate that my marriage is breaking up, not quite knowing how to broach the issue, but I've decided today is the day. What will her reaction be? We've had this playful online relationship for a couple of years now, but we've never actually talked to each other live by phone or online, so I don't even know what her voice sounds like or her mine. And I don't know her phone number since we don't text either, so I send her an email asking for her number and telling her there is something important I'd like to say ... and not online.

Not expecting a response until the evening, I'm surprised when she responds within five minutes of my ask.

With some trepidation, I pick up my office phone and dial the 404 area code number and it barely rings once before she picks up. "Kate?"

"Kenny? It's so good to finally hear your voice."

"Same here! I love that little gentile Southern drawl of yours ... it's so sexy!"

"And you sound like you have a little bit of Virginia gentleman's drawl ..."

"Really, I always thought I kind of had a neutral accent ... people used to kid me when I was a kid because I didn't have the gen-u-ine drawl like everyone else did."

"Oh it's definitely there ... and majorly sexy! Just like that belly of yours ... from your last pics it looks like you've gained a LOT of weight ... you're not as much of a 'lightweight' as you used to be!"

"Well you have been a faithful encourager Kate and I'm now up to 310 pounds ..."

"Wow! Isn't that like a 65 pound gain from when we first got acquainted? You're gonna be 'acceptable' a lot sooner than I thought ... and you look even more handsome ... but what does your wife think about all those extra pounds?"

"Interesting you should ask ..."


Well-Known Member
May 3, 2014
Remembering Vegas

As she lays beside me, I run my hand over her amazing curves, and, being the giving person I am, make the ultimate sacrifice and feed her the last slice of bacon. "This is going to look so good on your hips," I tell her lovingly.

"Not as good as the couple of pounds of bacon you ate are going to look on that big ole' belly of yours," she dishes out in return, with that girlish laugh she gets when particularly amused by my gluttony.

Having finished off the last of the bacon, she rolls over with her back to me, so I can gently fondle her sexy back rolls and love handles and that magnificent ass of hers ... oh that divine derriere ... it makes me wonder what life was even like pre-Kate ... and I exclaim, "it's hard to believe we've only been together eight months ... it seems like we've known each other forever."

"Really?," she asks, "to me it only seems like yesterday we were in Vegas, seeing each other in person for the first time,"

"Yes, you so much more beautiful than I'd ever even imagined, looking spectacular in that strapless little black dress ..."

"There really wasn't anything 'little' about that dress [she giggles like a schoolgirl again]."

"Ah, but you were a vision in it ..."

"And you big boy, so handsome and distinguished in that three button business suit of yours and your french-cuffed dress shirt with the top three buttons undone ... I swear I could almost see your moobs peaking out!"

I giggle a little at that ...

"But you did look painfully skinny ... what were you then, only 310 pounds? Such a lightweight you were, you're lucky I even gave you a second look!"

"Hah! You know you were hooked ... I may only have weighed 310, but I had the belly of a 400-pounder! I'm kind of like the 6'7" basketball player who can rebound with the bigger guys 'cause he's got the arms of a 7-footer ..."

[More giggles from Kate] "That's true big boy, that belly was something extraordinary, and you could have gone belly-to-belly with some much bigger boys ..."

"And how about now that I've finally hit the 'target' weight you set back when we first got acquainted?"

Kate seems to swoon a bit at that question, and exclaims "my boy, you can go belly-to-belly with the 500 pounders now!" Then she adds, "like that high roller we had drinks with in Vegas ..."

"You mean the one I thought you might leave me behind for?"

"Silly fat boy, he may have outweighed you by a couple of hundred pounds, but he wasn't the one I loved ..." Then she rolls over and gives me a big wet kiss on the lips.

"That was a pretty amazing weekend," I add.

"How long did it take you to call me after you found out about ... you know?"

About a week ... I had to get things moving on the divorce and get my plan together ..."

"Your plan?"

"Yes, my plan as to how I would woo you ..."

"I didn't need any wooing ..."

"Yeah, but I didn't know that ..."

"You're kind of slow, did you know that fat boy?"

"Maybe ... but you were so beautiful how was I to know there weren't suitors in Atlanta lined up all the way to Birmingham for you?"

"You're too funny!"

"Although you tried to conceal it, you did seem pretty excited when I told you the marriage was over ..."

"Excited? I was jumping up and down on the other end of the phone ... I mean the floors were shaking and the windows were rattling ... 345 pounds of woman I'm lucky the house could take it!"

"And there we were ... in Sin City just two days later."

"We were pretty sinful that weekend, weren't we?"

"Starting with that dress ... that thing was probably illegal in 45 states!"

"But that suit of yours was pretty obscene too ... it had to be one size too small ... showing off that huge bottom roll of yours ... then your top roll spilling over the belt line so big and prosperous-like! You really did look like you weighed 400 pounds in that thing ... and I loved it that you arrived a couple of hours earlier and I had to come down to the casino to try to pick you out of the crowd ..."

"Did you have any trouble finding me?"

"Well ... even though you were a lightweight then, you were easily the fattest man in the room ... and the fattest one I saw the whole weekend other than that high roller we ran into in the bar at The Wynn."

"That guy did like you ... I swore he was going to give me the old "how much to sleep with your girlfriend" routine ...

"What if he had?"

"Are you kidding?"

"What if he'd offered you a million bucks?"

"Never [with a smile] ... well, maybe if he'd offered five million ... I could have bought us a lot of donuts with that ..."

"But instead, you took me down to the other end of the strip, to New York New York where they have the KrispyKreme on the casino floor!"

"That was so much fun ... me feeding you ... and you feeding me ... that's when I really knew we were destined for each other."

"Me too fat man ... and here we are eight months and a hundred and twenty pounds later!"

"And an awful lot of good sex ..."

"A lot of GREAT sex fat man!"


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