Jerry Thomas
Well-Known Member
SSBHM, ~FFA, Romance, Feeding, ~~WG - A fat man unexpectedly finds himself the object of public attention during a shopping trip.
[Author's Note: This was my very first story, though it has taken me almost a full year to post it here, with several revisions since I originally wrote it. HAPPY 2012 TO ALL and may the new year bring you many good things!]
Today, sweetie, were going to the mall! She made the announcement one warm Saturday morning in a voice that indicated the matter was already decided.
Okay, I said meekly. And what exactly are we going to do there?
I want to go and show off my big sexy sweetheart for the first time.
Laura and I had been going together for about six weeks and I had learned early in our relationship not to resist her whims and desires. During that time, I had gained weight steadily, a total of 33 pounds to be exact. I had been a fatty for most of my life, but now I was fatter than ever, thanks to Lauras tender loving care. A weight gain of about thirty pounds doesnt sound like all that much, but when youre already tipping the scales at 363, those extra pounds represent the difference between just being fat, and being REALLY, REALLY fat, if you know what I mean. I was now a mere four pounds away from joining the 400 Club and my Body Mass Index was off the charts.
My skinny little doctor always looked at me as if calculating my mortality in terms of weeks or months, rather than years. My oversize belly hung massively over my beltline and I couldnt remember the last time I had been able to see my feet, not to mention my pathetic little pecker, buried as it was under wads of flab. I had a rear end that matched the size of my belly and heavy bulging boy breasts that extended around my chest to my armpits, forcing my arms out sideways. To make matters worse, I was short, only about five foot six, and all in all, I thought I looked like a beach ball with tits.
Like many fat people, I tried to avoid mirrors and was shocked when I walked down the main street of my town and caught a reflection of myself in the store windows. I had developed a typical fat mans waddle, and I moved with excruciating slowness, involuntarily swinging my arms back and forth as they fought for space with my oversized boobs. I was poetry in motion, you could say, with everything jiggling and swaying all at once. Joggers would taunt me by speeding past on the sidewalk, humiliating me with their physical superiority, and if I were to time my own forward progress, I would find that it took me almost five breathless minutes just to walk a single city block.
But I had a cute, round, baby-smooth face, with chubby kissable cheeks and a large wiggly wedge of fat under my chin. My wavy brown hair and sensual blue eyes completed the picture, and I looked a little like those rosy-cheeked cherubs you see in the paintings of the old masters.
Maybe it was this innocent cuteness that attracted Laura, or maybe it was the round, luscious softness of my body. I never did understand why she would be turned on by a creampuff of a man like me. But love is a strange and many splendored thing.
We first met at a local coffee shop. I was wedged behind a tiny table drinking my grande with extra half and half, and she was sitting nearby engrossed in working on her laptop. From time to time, she would look up from behind the screen and cast a curious glance my way. Not once, not twice, but several times. I imagined she was staring at my hips flowing ridiculously over the edges of a chair that was much too small for me.
It made me nervous and uncomfortable, because as my weight went up and up over the years, the number of interested female glances became proportionately fewer and fewer. Shes probably never seen a guy so fat before, I said to myself bitterly. Surely shes just looking at me with disgust and loathing like everyone else.
But then to my complete surprise, she got up from her table and came over to me. Hi, my names Laura, she said with a friendly smile. Why dont you bring your coffee over and join me?
I was flabbergasted, but a rare invitation like that was not something I could easily refuse. Besides that, she wasnt bad looking at all. They say that opposites attract, and the two of us were about as opposite as anyone can be. She was about my height, but with a weight difference of close to 250 pounds, I guessed. Petite and athletic, she had blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and small but interesting breasts that made a slight bulge in her gray jogging suit. No hips at all and a compact little ass, and if you looked at her just from the neck down, she might resemble a skinny adolescent boy with a hormone problem. She looked incredibly fit and it was obvious that she wasnt wearing the jogging suit just for fashions sake.
But she had a lovely engaging smile, so I raised myself with an effort from the flimsy metal chair and waddled boldly in her direction. We had a great conversation and after about two hours and several more coffees, she invited me over to her apartment for dinner.
Well, to make a long story short, we really hit it off. Laura was absolutely wild about me. We would sit for hours on her couch, kissing passionately in each others arms. Compared to me she seemed like a tiny, fragile thing, and she was totally and hopelessly fascinated by the layers of fat that covered my body. With her strong, small hands she would explore every inch of me, squeezing and kneading my rolls of belly fat, my fat boobs, my thick upper arms, my plump thighs and buttocks, until I felt sore all over.
On top of that, she loved to feed me. She enjoyed cooking huge delicious meals for me: lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread spread thickly with butter, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and various other dishes swimming in rich, fattening sauces. And then, as if that were not enough, she would finish it off with high-calorie desserts like chocolate cake, cherry or blueberry pie, and massive dishes of vanilla ice cream dripping with butterscotch topping. She would avidly watch every bite as it disappeared into my mouth, sometimes spoon-feeding me herself like a mother feeds a baby.
I have to say, I made an absolute pig of myself. I should have known better, but I so enjoyed the attention she lavished upon me that the food became like a tangible expression of her affection.
So I gained, and gained, and gained. And when I stepped on the scale that Saturday morning after six weeks of intensive feeding, the dial stopped and she leaned over to read the magic number. All I could see was my big fat stomach in front of me.
Honey, you weigh 396 pounds, she shouted with an air of delight and accomplishment. Lets celebrate. Today, sweetie, were going to the mall!
And thus did that fateful day begin, a day I will remember for the rest of my life. Laura ran excitedly into the bedroom to get her outfit ready.
She came out ten minutes later wearing a pair of white tennis shorts, exposing her muscular runners legs well up to the thighs. On top she had on a very tight-fitting pink T-shirt that hugged her slender frame like a glove.
Its for breast cancer awareness, she explained. And look, baby, were going to be twinsies.
Laura eagerly revealed a pair of triple-wide white cotton shorts and a size 3X pink T-shirt and held each one up in turn for me to see.
Try them on right now, she said, barely suppressing the excitement in her voice. You are going to look so fabulous.
Im not going to wear that. People will laugh at me.
Oh, dont be silly. You see all kinds of people at the mall. Youre no different than anyone else.
But of course I knew that I was different, and in a very big way, and I looked at the pair of white shorts and the pink T-shirt with trepidation.
Laura, I protested, Im going to look like a big fat slob.
But you are a big fat slob, darling. Thats why I love you.
So I submissively complied with her orders and got dressed. The shorts were so tight that my belly fat rolled over the waistband even more than usual. The legs were much too short for my size and exposed the greater part of my thick thighs. I forced myself to look in the mirror and saw a fat man wearing hotpants. Laura giggled and poked me playfully in the tummy. I said tee hee, but it really didnt seem funny, at least not to me.
Great! Now try on the shirt.
I pulled the T-shirt over my head, but even as a 3X it was way too small for me. My boobs stretched the material so much that you could see my nipples, and it looked like I was wearing a tube top. I struggled to pull the rest of the shirt down over my belly, with even worse results. The shirt was so small and my belly so big that the shirt came only about halfway down to my waist, revealing my belly button and exposing a substantial amount of soft, white flesh.
Laura, theyll see my big fat belly, I moaned.
Thats okay, a little skin never hurts. Youll see, its stylish, a lot of people dress like that nowadays.
To be continued . . .
[Author's Note: This was my very first story, though it has taken me almost a full year to post it here, with several revisions since I originally wrote it. HAPPY 2012 TO ALL and may the new year bring you many good things!]
Saturday Afternoon at the Mall
by Jerry Thomas
by Jerry Thomas
Today, sweetie, were going to the mall! She made the announcement one warm Saturday morning in a voice that indicated the matter was already decided.
Okay, I said meekly. And what exactly are we going to do there?
I want to go and show off my big sexy sweetheart for the first time.
Laura and I had been going together for about six weeks and I had learned early in our relationship not to resist her whims and desires. During that time, I had gained weight steadily, a total of 33 pounds to be exact. I had been a fatty for most of my life, but now I was fatter than ever, thanks to Lauras tender loving care. A weight gain of about thirty pounds doesnt sound like all that much, but when youre already tipping the scales at 363, those extra pounds represent the difference between just being fat, and being REALLY, REALLY fat, if you know what I mean. I was now a mere four pounds away from joining the 400 Club and my Body Mass Index was off the charts.
My skinny little doctor always looked at me as if calculating my mortality in terms of weeks or months, rather than years. My oversize belly hung massively over my beltline and I couldnt remember the last time I had been able to see my feet, not to mention my pathetic little pecker, buried as it was under wads of flab. I had a rear end that matched the size of my belly and heavy bulging boy breasts that extended around my chest to my armpits, forcing my arms out sideways. To make matters worse, I was short, only about five foot six, and all in all, I thought I looked like a beach ball with tits.
Like many fat people, I tried to avoid mirrors and was shocked when I walked down the main street of my town and caught a reflection of myself in the store windows. I had developed a typical fat mans waddle, and I moved with excruciating slowness, involuntarily swinging my arms back and forth as they fought for space with my oversized boobs. I was poetry in motion, you could say, with everything jiggling and swaying all at once. Joggers would taunt me by speeding past on the sidewalk, humiliating me with their physical superiority, and if I were to time my own forward progress, I would find that it took me almost five breathless minutes just to walk a single city block.
But I had a cute, round, baby-smooth face, with chubby kissable cheeks and a large wiggly wedge of fat under my chin. My wavy brown hair and sensual blue eyes completed the picture, and I looked a little like those rosy-cheeked cherubs you see in the paintings of the old masters.
Maybe it was this innocent cuteness that attracted Laura, or maybe it was the round, luscious softness of my body. I never did understand why she would be turned on by a creampuff of a man like me. But love is a strange and many splendored thing.
We first met at a local coffee shop. I was wedged behind a tiny table drinking my grande with extra half and half, and she was sitting nearby engrossed in working on her laptop. From time to time, she would look up from behind the screen and cast a curious glance my way. Not once, not twice, but several times. I imagined she was staring at my hips flowing ridiculously over the edges of a chair that was much too small for me.
It made me nervous and uncomfortable, because as my weight went up and up over the years, the number of interested female glances became proportionately fewer and fewer. Shes probably never seen a guy so fat before, I said to myself bitterly. Surely shes just looking at me with disgust and loathing like everyone else.
But then to my complete surprise, she got up from her table and came over to me. Hi, my names Laura, she said with a friendly smile. Why dont you bring your coffee over and join me?
I was flabbergasted, but a rare invitation like that was not something I could easily refuse. Besides that, she wasnt bad looking at all. They say that opposites attract, and the two of us were about as opposite as anyone can be. She was about my height, but with a weight difference of close to 250 pounds, I guessed. Petite and athletic, she had blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and small but interesting breasts that made a slight bulge in her gray jogging suit. No hips at all and a compact little ass, and if you looked at her just from the neck down, she might resemble a skinny adolescent boy with a hormone problem. She looked incredibly fit and it was obvious that she wasnt wearing the jogging suit just for fashions sake.
But she had a lovely engaging smile, so I raised myself with an effort from the flimsy metal chair and waddled boldly in her direction. We had a great conversation and after about two hours and several more coffees, she invited me over to her apartment for dinner.
Well, to make a long story short, we really hit it off. Laura was absolutely wild about me. We would sit for hours on her couch, kissing passionately in each others arms. Compared to me she seemed like a tiny, fragile thing, and she was totally and hopelessly fascinated by the layers of fat that covered my body. With her strong, small hands she would explore every inch of me, squeezing and kneading my rolls of belly fat, my fat boobs, my thick upper arms, my plump thighs and buttocks, until I felt sore all over.
On top of that, she loved to feed me. She enjoyed cooking huge delicious meals for me: lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread spread thickly with butter, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and various other dishes swimming in rich, fattening sauces. And then, as if that were not enough, she would finish it off with high-calorie desserts like chocolate cake, cherry or blueberry pie, and massive dishes of vanilla ice cream dripping with butterscotch topping. She would avidly watch every bite as it disappeared into my mouth, sometimes spoon-feeding me herself like a mother feeds a baby.
I have to say, I made an absolute pig of myself. I should have known better, but I so enjoyed the attention she lavished upon me that the food became like a tangible expression of her affection.
So I gained, and gained, and gained. And when I stepped on the scale that Saturday morning after six weeks of intensive feeding, the dial stopped and she leaned over to read the magic number. All I could see was my big fat stomach in front of me.
Honey, you weigh 396 pounds, she shouted with an air of delight and accomplishment. Lets celebrate. Today, sweetie, were going to the mall!
And thus did that fateful day begin, a day I will remember for the rest of my life. Laura ran excitedly into the bedroom to get her outfit ready.
She came out ten minutes later wearing a pair of white tennis shorts, exposing her muscular runners legs well up to the thighs. On top she had on a very tight-fitting pink T-shirt that hugged her slender frame like a glove.
Its for breast cancer awareness, she explained. And look, baby, were going to be twinsies.
Laura eagerly revealed a pair of triple-wide white cotton shorts and a size 3X pink T-shirt and held each one up in turn for me to see.
Try them on right now, she said, barely suppressing the excitement in her voice. You are going to look so fabulous.
Im not going to wear that. People will laugh at me.
Oh, dont be silly. You see all kinds of people at the mall. Youre no different than anyone else.
But of course I knew that I was different, and in a very big way, and I looked at the pair of white shorts and the pink T-shirt with trepidation.
Laura, I protested, Im going to look like a big fat slob.
But you are a big fat slob, darling. Thats why I love you.
So I submissively complied with her orders and got dressed. The shorts were so tight that my belly fat rolled over the waistband even more than usual. The legs were much too short for my size and exposed the greater part of my thick thighs. I forced myself to look in the mirror and saw a fat man wearing hotpants. Laura giggled and poked me playfully in the tummy. I said tee hee, but it really didnt seem funny, at least not to me.
Great! Now try on the shirt.
I pulled the T-shirt over my head, but even as a 3X it was way too small for me. My boobs stretched the material so much that you could see my nipples, and it looked like I was wearing a tube top. I struggled to pull the rest of the shirt down over my belly, with even worse results. The shirt was so small and my belly so big that the shirt came only about halfway down to my waist, revealing my belly button and exposing a substantial amount of soft, white flesh.
Laura, theyll see my big fat belly, I moaned.
Thats okay, a little skin never hurts. Youll see, its stylish, a lot of people dress like that nowadays.
To be continued . . .
