BOTH Scenes from the Three - by ffaboots (~XWG, SSBHM, ~BBW, ~FFA, feeding, ~sex)

Discussion in 'BHM/Both Weight Fiction Archive' started by ffaboots, Sep 26, 2013.

  1. Sep 26, 2013 #1

    ffaboots

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    ~XWG, SSBHM, ~BBW, ~FFA, feeding, stuffing, ~sex, A series of vignettes about how one gainer's unusual household develops.

    Scenes from the Three
    by ffaboots


    Chapter 1 - James, June 2008

    Before we officially met, I had to get a look at Vivi. Call me a dick--you wouldn't be the first--but I wanted to check if she was cute before we actually spent a whole evening together. Attraction is important to me; it took me until my mid-20s to understand what I was into sexually, I just didn't want to waste any more time.

    I can hear you thinking jeez, what is he into? To be blunt, I'm obsessed with fat. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to get really fat, I wanted to make someone else really fat, and maybe do both at the same time. I had yet to find the right woman (well, once, but that's another story), but in the meantime I'd dated a long line of hot, fat girls and indulged the gaining thing in other ways, mostly chatting online with feeders who lived far away and gaining on my own (I was just over 300 pounds by the time Vivi and I hooked up).

    We met online, on a feeding-themed message board; she started a thread asking other New Yorkers where to find good steamed pork buns, and she seemed sweet, and her profile identified her as a feeder, so I PMed her.

    Vivi told me enough during our brief email correspondence that I was able to figure out that the event-planning/catering studio she worked for was going to be hosting a corporate event at an art space in Park Slope. Perfect. I'd go in, get a peek at her, and sneak back out.

    I didn't count on quite how large the gallery would be, or how well-attended the event. It was a cool place, a crumbling old bank building where they'd put up just enough mood lighting to give it a kind of glamour. By the time I arrived, there were easily a hundred people there. At least I could blend into the crowd.

    Among the people I could identify as staff, I didn't see anyone matching Vivi's description: 5'6", 250 pounds, pear-shaped, strawberry blonde, gray eyes. I made my way to the unattended bar and was perusing their whiskey selection when a very pretty woman slid behind the bar and said, "Hi there, sorry, we're a little short-staffed, what can I get...oh my god, are you Sully?"

    Sully is my screenname--I was completely busted. It was a packed room, I'd been there maybe five minutes, and she'd found me. I wasn't sure how to play this. "And you're...Buttercup?"

    She laughed in disbelief, and I marveled at how appealing she was. She had shiny, wavy hair in some kind of updo, and was wearing a sleeveless navy-blue dress that left her plump shoulders and arms bare and framed a canyon of cleavage. "Yes! I had no idea you'd be at this thing! What are the chances?" she bubbled. She had just a little bit of a twangy accent, one of those that surely popped out when she was tired or drunk or excited.

    "Yeah, I know!" I agreed. At the time I thought maybe she was just playing along, or teasing me, but years later when I confessed that I'd sought her out that night, she was genuinely surprised and somewhat disappointed--I think she always believed it was fate. "I was supposed to meet my buddy here and just got a message he's not coming," I lied.

    "You look just like your picture! God, what a dumb thing to say, Vivi, of course he does," she chided herself. "Seriously, what can I get you to drink, so that I look like I'm working and not just talking your ear off?"

    "Ah...Maker’s, neat," I said. "So is that a good thing, that I look like my picture?" She poured generously and made sure our hands touched when she gave me the glass.

    She leaned on the bar. "It's outstanding. It's superb. I realize I should attempt to play it cool here, but you're so attractive that if we weren't short-staffed at this party I'd tell my boss I was sick and drag you out of here right now. Seriously, you're like a big, stocky Bruce Wayne--I mean that as a huge compliment. Hey, what's your real name?"

    "James Osborn," I said, shaking her hand. "And you?" I asked.

    "Vivian Tillmon, but everyone calls me Vivi," she said. She looked across the room then straightened up. "Aw, hell, I'm already getting the death glare from my boss--I'm going to have to work this thing for another hour or so. See you in a couple days?"

    "Or..." I was not prepared to wait two more days. "You could just come to the Batcave after you're done tonight. Uh, I said that because of the Bruce Wayne thing, I don't go around referring to my apartment as the Batcave," I clarified quickly.

    She tipped her head and made a little moue with her lips. "We just met--I'm sure you're normal as blueberry pie, but for safety's sake, can we go somewhere public?"

    Years of dating in New York had made me uniquely suited for that kind of question. "Absolutely. There's a place really close to here--I'll text you the address--with a very cool rooftop lounge. Want to meet me there when you're done?" I left out that it was a hotel. I left out that I would get a room, just in case.

    Two hours later, we sat under the cloudy night sky eating olives and bread. We were close together on an outdoor loveseat, trading confidences.

    "So you've dated guys who were bigger than me?" I asked.

    "Oh sure, well into the 400s in a couple cases," she said, and as she looked down for a moment, I could see her remembering them.

    I lowered my voice. "God, I'd love to be that fat, I'm just at 305 now. You must have loved being with someone that big."

    "Ohhhh yeah," she readily admitted. "Well. I mean, I loved how they looked, and felt, and especially enjoyed watching them get fatter once they realized I didn't care how much they ate, that was amazing. But just recently I swore off guys who weren't gainers."

    "Really?" I prompted her.

    "Mmm..." she mused, "I kind of snapped, actually," she giggled. "I was in the shower with this big guy I'd been seeing for about a month, and he grabs his gut and he's like, 'I've got to get back to the gym, I've put on so much weight since we started dating...' So of course I'm thinking, Vivi, this is your moment! And I say, 'Well that's okay, I really like it...' and he interrupts me with the whole 'Oh you're so sweet to say that, but I need to get in shape....' blah blah blah, and I just felt exhausted that this was happening again. I just wanted to be with someone who was completely sure he wanted to be fat," and she looked me right in the eyes.

    "And not just fat, but extremely fat," I added. "Tremendously so."

    "Yes," she said, putting one hand on my stomach as she leaned in to press her sublime pink mouth to mine. We pulled back after a long time, a bit dazed, and I realized that her arms were covered with gooseflesh.

    "Are you cold?" I asked. It was unseasonably cold for June. She nodded, and I gave her my jacket, and she thanked me and settled it around her shoulders. "I don't want to rush anything here," I said quietly, "But I have a room downstairs. At some point, if you want, we could go talk there, privately."

    A slow, delighted smile spread across her face. "So, you're not just big and handsome, you're smooth too," she drawled.

    Five minutes later we were in the room, and I was unzipping her dress. It puddled at her feet and I exhaled hard, sliding one hand down the perfect, pale flesh of her back. She turned around and I held her at arm's length for a moment, taking it all in--the big breasts over the pooch of belly, the way her waist bloomed into her broad hips and thighs, the tight band of her panties digging into her soft flesh to create a roll above it--undressing her was like opening a Christmas present. "You're exquisite," I said, and she pulled me to her by the love handles and started to kiss me again.

    Vivi pulled my dress shirt free and slid both hands onto my belly. "Ohhh," she breathed, "This is fantastic." She pulled the shirt up to get at my tits, so I just went ahead and took it off. She put one hand on each of them and squeezed. "Mmmm," she said, a deeply satisfied hum that seemed to come from her toes. "Your body is spectacular." I felt relief flood through me--I'd thought that once I decided to gain weight, the anxiety of getting naked with someone for the first time would abate, but it had just evolved to wondering if I was too fat or not fat enough.

    In any case, Vivi seemed rapacious as she fumbled with my belt. "God, I'm so excited, I'm all thumbs," she whispered.

    I took both of her hands, kissed them, and placed them back on my belly. "I got this," I said, undoing my belt and unbuttoning and unzipping, then kicking my pants off as Vivi rubbed her fingers over my nipples and I grew even harder than I already was. She reached one hand down to my cock and widened her eyes at me.

    "Wow, you're...you're really ready," she said breathlessly. So I pulled a maneuver that I admit was honed from practice with other girls--I reached both hands around her ass and hefted her into the air. She squealed from both panic and delight. "James!! Put me down!"

    "Yes ma'am," I said, turning and dropping her on the bed. Honestly, I'd lifted girls heavier than Vivi was at the time...it would be unthinkable to lift her now, but that's another story.

    I crawled onto the bed, took her bra off, and gaped at her tits. "Jesus," I said, the word bursting out of me unintentionally as I palmed each one, then suckled them. She made a throaty, eager sound that seemed like an excellent sign. I slipped one hand into her panties, knowing I couldn't get them off unless she lifted her prodigious hips off the bed to help me--which she did--and I tossed them on a chair. I put my finger inside her and even though I'd already known she was aroused, was surprised at how wet she was. I lay down beside her and began to stroke her clit with my thumb, and as I did, she reached out and grabbed a handful of my flab and began to knead it.

    "You want to get super obese, don't you, James?" she breathed after a few minutes, as she writhed under my touch.

    "It’s all I want," I murmured.

    "Would you get so fat that your belly fat hangs down to your knees?" she asked, her hips beginning to rock.

    "I'll get way fatter than that, so humongous that my belly's almost touching my feet when I'm lying down--of course, lying down is all I'll be able to do at that point," I said.

    "Nnnngh," she moaned, "How much will you weigh then?"

    "Probably half a ton," I said, and to my surprise, that was all it took. With a cry of pleasure, she arched her back and stretched one arm toward the headboard as she climaxed.

    I was aching from anticipation, so was extremely glad it only took her a moment to open her eyes and say, "I want you inside me." I knelt between her legs, then guided myself into her, and we both gasped. She pulled her knees up, and I slid in deeper. I found a rhythm, and loved how her breasts jiggled as I pounded into her--god, she was hot. I looked at her and imagined her bringing me trays of food, forcing me to eat every bite of it, making me so corpulent I could barely waddle. I imagined her forcing me to weigh in all the time, calling me her prize hog, reveling in every blubbery pound. And with that I exploded, already so enthralled I couldn't see straight.
     
  2. Sep 26, 2013 #2

    ffaboots

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    Chapter 2 - Vivi, August 2008

    "Get more avocados," I said over James' shoulder, looking at the grocery order on his screen. "And some more of that alfredo sauce--I think I might have to start serving you bread bowls full of that, you liked it so much." I squeezed the small roll under his sideboob, where new stretch marks had started to appear. We were in that great but ridiculous honeymoon phase where even ordering groceries could potentially end with us tangled in a naked heap on the couch.

    "Done," said James with a final click. "Delivery is tomorrow."

    "Ah, so you'll just have to finish the food we have in the apartment by then," I teased him. Well, sort of teased--I would have loved to see him with a chair pulled up to the fridge, actually.

    “Hey, come here, I want you to see something,” said James. I joined him by the computer and he had a video pulled up, a cartoon. “Have you ever seen this?” I shook my head, and that’s how I had my first viewing of Pigs is Pigs. I have no idea how I missed it as a kid, but could see how much it would have appealed to me even then, how I would have begged for a video of it and watched it over and over.

    "Oh wow," I murmured as the pig began to totter out of the mad scientist's lab, stuffed round and bloated.

    "Do you like that?" James asked, and I nodded. "Do you want me to be a pig like that for you?" he said, and his voice was more intense. I looked at him, my excitement building, and nodded again. "Say it," he ordered.

    "I want you to be a pig like that for me," I repeated, the words foreign and thrilling.

    He set his laptop aside and turned toward me. "I wish you would say things like that all the time, Vivi, it's really hot. Wait, stand up," he said, and I complied. He stayed on the sofa, looking up at me. "Tell me something you want me to do."

    "You mean right now?" I asked, and he nodded. I said the first thing that came to mind--"I want you to eat everything in the refrigerator by the end of the day."

    "Everything?" he said, his eyes glinting at me.

    "Yes," I agreed, "Not the condiments or garnishes of course, but everything else. You start on the things that are ready to eat right now--maybe the pudding, or the leftover pizza if you don't mind it cold--and I'll start cooking the other things. You can take breaks, but you have to finish it all," I said.

    "Say 'Tubby,'" he begged.

    "You have to stuff every last bite of it in your fat face, Tubby," I said.

    "Oh my god," he groaned, and as I turned to go start frying the bacon I was so aroused I knew just what he meant.
     
  3. Sep 26, 2013 #3

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    Chapter 3 - James, October 2008

    I stepped off the bathroom scale, thrilled to realize now that I'd hit 345, it would need to be replaced soon. Too heavy for a 350-pound capacity scale...the idea started a warm ember of happiness inside me as I strutted to the living room.

    "Hey, how about sexy nurse?" Vivi asked, looking at Halloween costumes online. I must have winced at the suggestion, because she said, "Oh no, what?"

    I shrugged. "My ex was a nurse, and she gave me an earful about the whole sexy-nurse thing," I explained. "She was Asian too, so she'd had to deal with a lot of guys having weird fantasy ideas about her in both capacities, and was just...over it."

    "Sheesh, I can't imagine," Vivi said. "Did you meet her at work?"

    "Nah, we worked at different hospitals, plus even then I did a lot of my work from home. We met online--on Feedist, actually.” It was the website where I'd met Vivi. She spun the office chair around to face me, excited and attentive.

    "You never told me that! So was she a feeder? I mean, was she...experienced?" Vivi asked. Vivi perpetually felt like a novice.

    I shrugged again. "Kind of? I mean, how experienced can anybody our age be at this? She was great at it, anyway...like, she had this way of making me eat that kind of drove me crazy."

    Vivi leaned forward and gestured excitedly for me to elaborate. "Like how? What did she do?" I thought she might whip out a steno pad and start taking notes.

    "It's hard to describe, it was her demeanor and tone of voice, and the things she said," I evaded--I didn't want Vivi to think I'd never gotten over Hannah. "She was...she just assumed I would eat the things she ordered me to eat, and I was pretty happy to oblige."

    "Huh," said Vivi thoughtfully. "Did you gain a lot of weight when you guys were together?"

    I flushed, remembering the explicit emails Hannah would send me about my rapidly-expanding body. The opening line of one: Hey Tubbo - Did I tell you how much your tits jiggle when we're having sex? flashed through my mind. "Yeah, almost 50 pounds," I said.

    "Wow," Vivi marveled. "So why'd you guys break up?" I grimaced. "Oh no, I can tell from your face it was either incredibly bad, or awkward, or both."

    "It was a combination of stuff, and I didn't handle it all that well," I started. "We both had tempers and would fight a lot, so that was one thing. And she always knew I had only dated fat girls, and she was tiny, so every time she'd catch me looking at another woman it always turned into an argument. And we were both skittish, both kind of ready to bolt anytime anything went wrong."

    Vivi frowned. "Oof. So how did it actually end?"

    I'd tried not to think about Hannah for so long, it was kind of a relief to unburden myself about it to someone, though I wasn't sure Vivi was the right someone to be telling all this to. "Ugh, it was...one night we were having a real screaming match and I said, 'Maybe we should take some time off,' and she just gave me this look--I can still see it--and said 'Fine,' and stormed out, and after a couple really tense phone conversations, we were done. I saw her once at the hospital and she was cordial, but that's it."

    "Interesting. Y’know, I bet if you'd apologized right after that fight, you probably could have patched it up," Vivi said.

    "Oh, that never occurred to me before!" I said sarcastically, reaching for my phone. "I'll call her!"

    Vivi leapt up and wrestled the phone away from me, shrieking with laughter. "No way! I'm deleting her number." Then she paused, thinking for a second, "Or maybe I should call her for tips..." and I tackled her onto the couch to get the phone back. “Fine, fine, okay," she conceded. "Tell me more about the feeding stuff you guys did."

    I grinned. "You really want to know?" She nodded, excited. "Well, sometimes she'd make me stay in bed all day--she called it 'playing immobile'..." I began.
     
  4. Sep 26, 2013 #4

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    Chapter 4 – Vivi, December 2008

    After James and I had been dating for about six months, I was hanging out at his place while he was at his mom's doing her taxes, and the buzzer sounded. "Who is it?" I asked, pressing the button.

    There was a pause. "I'm a friend of James'," said a female voice, "I just need to drop something off."

    "You bet," I said, and buzzed her up, intensely curious. James didn't have female friends. Maybe someone from work? When she knocked, I opened the door to a small, compact Korean woman with a sleek, dark bob and very cute freckles. She looked me over and smirked in a knowing way.

    "Figures," she said ruefully.

    "Pardon?" I asked.

    She shook her head, suddenly all business, and shoved a cardboard box at me. "This is James' stuff, I've had it for a year and a half, and I'm sick of looking at it. Tell him Hannah says hey." I took the box as she waved one hand and turned to go.

    "Wait!" I shouted, lunging out the door, and the woman turned. "You're Hannah?!?"

    She looked quizzically at me. "Yeah..."

    "I've always wanted to meet you! I'm Vivian--Vivi--please, please, pleasepleaseplease, will you come in for a minute?" I put one arm around her small shoulders and steered her back toward the apartment door, but only when I turned the knob did I realize I'd let it close and lock behind me.

    "Aw, dammit!" I wailed. "I don't suppose I could use your phone to call the super?"

    She pursed her lips for a second, thinking, rolled her eyes, then said, "I can solve this in two seconds IF you never tell James what I'm about to do." I did a scout's three-finger salute, and she dug in her messenger bag for a keyring, and to my astonishment, opened the apartment. "It's not what you think," she said, looking at me. "I just forgot to give it back."

    I glanced in the box--she had remembered to give back a piece of plastic tubing and a shirt that was three sizes too small for him now, but not his key. Likely story. "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked.

    Hannah waved me off--of course, she knew the apartment. She opened the fridge and pointed to a bottle of champagne. "Is he saving this for something?" she asked. I nodded, and she grabbed it by the neck and with great relish, tore off the foil and popped the cork. "Perfect." I laughed for a solid minute while she filled the only two clean glasses in the cabinet. "I'm glad you found that funny and not completely spiteful," she said, "What should we toast to?"

    "To James?" I suggested, "It is his champagne."

    She sighed, "I realize you're probably in love with him and all, and believe me I get it, but NO."

    "To hot guys getting fatter?" I suggested, and she stared at me and smiled just a titch. She clinked her glass to mine so hard that hers chipped a tiny bit at the rim, then shrugged, turned it around, and drank out of the other side.

    "So you know about me,” she mused. “In that case...I'm not sure how to ask this," Hannah fumbled. "You said, 'getting fatter'..."

    Without a word, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, scrolled to a photo of James from a few days prior, post-binge bloated, dozing on the couch with empty plates and food containers in front of him. "He's a little over 350 now," I said.

    "Holy shit," she muttered, and stared fondly at the picture for a long time. I watched her take in the bigger double chin and the glorious pile of belly resting in his lap. "Look at his fucking chins! Look at all that food! Oh my GOD what a pig." Then she looked up at me. "I kind of love and hate you right now."

    I laughed. Finally, someone who understood. I couldn't wait to learn everything she knew. "I'm just so happy to meet you,” I said.
     
  5. Sep 26, 2013 #5

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    Chapter 5 – Hannah, December 2008

    It's tough to explain how I felt about meeting Vivi--it was a lot to process. Since things were uneven--she'd been curious about me for months, I didn't know she existed until that day--I made her repeat everything James had said about me. It actually softened me up a lot about old James; he was at least smart enough to know the things about me that he'd given up, and apparently cared about me more than he was able to express, and I appreciated that.

    And seeing Vivi, I understood the attraction--hell, I was into her. Even swanning around the apartment in a t-shirt and leggings she was all hips and boobs and round arms and just lovely. And charming, with her accent (which deepened as we worked our way through the bottle) and her unguarded enthusiasm for me.

    I haven't even mentioned how exciting it was to meet another woman who was into fat guys, weight gain, feeding, you name it. We were having ridiculous fun talking about how much we both liked that episode of “The King of Queens” with the pole-dancing (an FFA classic)--and then we heard keys rattling in the door.

    "Hello?" James' familiar voice called. "Vivi?"

    "Oh fuck," she hissed, like she'd been caught with a lover. I began to look for my bag, and then James walked into the living room. His face upon seeing me was kind of priceless, but I couldn't take my eyes off his body! He'd put on at least a hundred pounds since I saw him last and his round midsection was straining the buttons of his coat. It wasn't what I meant to say, but...

    "Wow, you look great," I said, "You’ve gotten so much fatter!"

    He touched his gut, tentatively. "Thanks? Why are..." he turned to Vivi. "What's going on?"

    Vivi was both drunk and flustered, so not very articulate, and I jumped in. "I just stopped by to drop off some of your things, and Vivi is the one person in the world nice enough to ask her boyfriend's ex to come in for a drink. I'll just..." I pointed toward the door.

    "No!" Vivi cried. She walked over to James and put one hand flat on his chest, to steady herself as much as anything. "Hannah and I? We're going to be best friends. Do you hear that?" she turned to me, "Bessfriends," she slurred, then returned to James. "So she's going to stay, and you can stay here and be nice or you can go..." she swirled her other hand in the air, "Do whatever. ‘Kay?"

    James looked from one of us to the other for a minute, then started to crack up. He pulled Vivi to him and kissed her on the forehead. "Okay, Tipsy. Jesus, I should've know this would happen if you two weirdos ever met each other. Let's order some Chinese." Vivi went to find a menu and James looked at me guardedly. "So, uh, how's it going? How's work?"

    And that was that. I'd spent a year and a half loathing the guy, and in a few hours managed to get to a place where I was having a pleasant dinner with he and his new girlfriend. How does that happen? We had such a nice time that I was surprisingly sad to leave at the end of the night. At Vivi's suggestion, James walked me the couple blocks to the subway. When we got there, I paused and said, "I had a great time, she's terrific."

    "Yeah," he nodded, hands in his pockets. "Am I..." he hesitated. “Am I really a lot fatter than last time you saw me?"

    It felt weirdly illicit to be in this conversation. "By at least a hundred pounds, Tubbo--the buttons on that coat are about to pop." I poked his belly, unmindful of the people hurrying past us into the subway. "I couldn't believe how much food you ordered tonight--they gave us ten sets of chopsticks, you pig," I said, smiling up at him.

    He grinned and looked at me somewhat suggestively, but stepped backward to go, and said, "Don't be a stranger."
     
  6. Sep 26, 2013 #6

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    Chapter 6 – James, March 2009

    Because she goes to so many parties for work, I thought (well, I hoped) Vivi would completely eschew them in her personal life, but I’ll be damned if she didn't insist on inviting a bunch of people over for a cocktails and hors d'oeuvres thing on her 29th birthday. One Sunday morning she looked up from a cookbook and said casually, "Hey, you should probably pick out a suit for the party."

    "Oh MAN..." I groused. "I have to dress up for this thing?"

    Vivi nodded. "As the birthday girl, I say that you do. Hey, I waited until you finished eating to mention it, didn't I?" she motioned to the empty Oreo package and the glass of half-and-half I'd just drained.

    "Like you would ever...oof...stop me from eating," I said, pushing my bulk up from the couch. I couldn't remember the last time I'd worn a suit. I shuffled to my closet, picked the biggest one, and attempted to put on the pants. No go. I could pull them up, but buttoning or zipping them was out of the question. I put on a dress shirt and if I sucked in hard, could get all of the buttons done except for the one over the biggest part of my abdomen, but it looked ridiculous, my bulging flesh making big gaps between each button. I looked in the mirror and felt a stirring at the sight--this suit had fit me once, but now the nearly 75 pounds I'd gained were completely apparent. The side seams of the shirt outlined my bulging love handles. Out of sheer curiosity, I went to put on the jacket and nearly pulled a muscle getting my arms into the sleeves--like the shirt, I could just barely button it, and it looked ready to blow at any moment.

    "Oh, that's perfect," said Vivi's voice from behind me. I turned around and she was leaning on the doorframe, smiling. "You'll eat two canapes and the buttons will pop off the jacket, then two more and there goes the shirt, and then you can just walk around the party showing off that big ol' stretchmarked belly hanging over your unbuttoned pants." She walked over to me and as we both looked in the mirror, she reached her arms around me and unbuttoned the jacket and the shirt, and we both enjoyed the sight of my belly bouncing free.

    "So I guess no suit?" I said hopefully.

    "Hang on," she said, then disappeared and returned with a garment bag from the big and tall store. "This should fit you. I saw it on the mannequin and couldn't stop picturing you in it." She laid it on the bench by the bed.

    I snorted. "And you still made me try this one on."

    "Just wanted to verify that you are in fact turning into a gigantic porker," she said, jiggling my belly.

    "377 just this morning," I said, getting ever-harder inside the too-small pants.

    Her eyes widened. "I wondered why you doubled up on breakfast dessert today. Seeing that 377 got you all excited, didn't it? A new fattest-you've-ever-been, huh Tubby?" She slid the pants down and put her hand on me. "Oh, you can't wait to weigh 400 pounds," she said, and I throbbed in her hand. I kissed her. "Mmm, you taste like Oreos," she said as she stripped off my skintight suit and steered me toward the bed.
     
  7. Sep 26, 2013 #7

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    Chapter 7 – Hannah, March 2009

    Vivi's birthday party was a raging success, if you like parties. The hordes of happy, drunk extroverts who packed James' apartment seemed to be having a terrific time. I bailed on the crowd pretty early and retreated to the coat room (aka the bedroom) with a paperback; Vivi had forced me to pinky-swear I'd stay until everyone left, but I hate making small talk with strangers, so this seemed like a good enough compromise.

    At about midnight, James staggered into the bedroom. "Oh!" he said, surprised to see me ensconced in a pile of jackets and purses with my book.

    "Sorry," I said with a shrug. "I'm hiding--just not a party person. Actually, if memory serves, neither are you."

    James pointed at me and tapped his index finger against his nose. He walked to the bed and plumped down heavily on the edge. "If I have one more discussion about politics with a stranger, I'll be forced to defenestrate someone."

    "Have you eaten?" I asked, while trying to gauge how much bigger he'd gotten in just the last few months.

    He chuckled at my single-mindedness. "Actually? Not much. The food is amazing but I'd feel conspicuous just camping out by the refreshments now that I'm..." he made a flourish over his torso with his hands to indicate how rotund he'd gotten.

    I was thrilled at the direction this conversation was taking. "Allow me. Be right back." I bounced back to the living room, where the food table bowed with way too much food. I piled six plates high, stacking them one on top of the other. I caught Vivi's eye across the room and she made a questioning face. I pointed back toward the bedroom and mouthed "James," and she beamed and mouthed "Thank you" back at me, then went back to hostessing, while I took the leaning tower of eats back to the bedroom.

    He laughed when I opened the door. "Oh my god, that's a ton of food, you're nuts," he said, but he tucked in immediately and made short work of the first four plates, only speaking to ask for condiments or beer. As he ate, people filtered in and got their coats and bags; the party must have been breaking up.

    By the fifth plate, James had begun to slow down. “You can't be full already," I teased him--he'd already eaten enough for several people.

    "I'm just so damn tired," he said, and setting the plate down, he leaned against the headboard, unbuttoned his pants, and shifted his distended belly, causing it to jiggle in a way that absolutely killed me.

    I sat down on the bed next to where he was reclining. "Let me. You just chew and swallow. Consider it practice for when Vivi's fattened you up so much that's all you can do."

    He grinned wickedly. "It's a shame she's not here, she'd want to see this," then accepted each bite I put in his mouth. "God, you were always good at this," he said affectionately.

    "And you're apparently even better at packing on blubber, you have to be way over 350 by now," I said, watching his double chin jiggle as he chewed.

    "381," he said between bites, watching me carefully.

    I was more turned on than I'd been in months. It was torture to keep from squeezing his lard. "Jesus, you're getting to be such a blimp," I said.

    He jostled his gut to one side, then the other. "Oof, I think I might be full," he groaned.

    "One more," I said, and he obediently opened his mouth. As he chewed, his eyes darted over my shoulder at something, then back to me.

    "One more," said Vivi from behind me, and I jumped, but James opened his mouth and she reached over me and put a petits-four in it. She crawled to the other side of him on the bed, looking disheveled and lustful, and like some kind of marvelous zaftig angel in her white party dress. She nodded at me. "Your turn."

    So we kept it up like that and "one mored" him through another plate, after which he closed his eyes and both Vivi and I presumed he was done. She looked at me over his dozing bulk. "Imagine what we could do to him if we were both working at it? Look at all this," she said, lifting his shirt and exposing a pile of stretch-marked flab. "Touch it, I know you want to," she said, and I gladly ran my hands over the bloated mass, squeezing and jiggling the softest parts around the edges. "God, your hands are so small, they make his gut look even bigger," she murmured. "He's going to be 400 pounds eventually," Vivi said, watching me survey his bulk. She giggled. "Even I'm getting fatter, just living with him," she said.

    "Reeeeeally..." I said, giving her a once-over.

    "Oh god yeah," she said, rolling her eyes a bit. "Not like he is, but I've put on about 30 pounds. Actually, that's the only thing that's tough about being around you, you're so petite, you make me feel like an elephant," she said, turning pink from her cleavage to her hairline.

    "Vivi, don't give me that shit, you know you're gorgeous. You have great hair...and I mean, look at your tits!" And we both did--the tops of them bubbled out of her low neckline, eminently touchable. And without meaning to, I put my hand out and squeezed one, then the other. "Mmmm," I said, and before I could say anything else, she leaned over James and kissed me. I had kissed women before, but not like this. All the built-up excitement from our conversations about fat and feeding ignited. I crawled over James' legs to her side of the bed, still kissing her.

    "Wait," Vivi said, breaking off for a second. "Is this okay?" she said, nudging James, who I thought was asleep, but should have known better from the lack of snoring.

    "I'd join you myself if I wasn't so goddamn full," he said, eyes still closed. I could hear his stomach working, turning food into even more jiggling flesh.

    Vivi looked back at me, flushed. "Where were we?"

    I reached around her to unzip her dress. She stood up to make it easier, then the dress fell to the floor, and she turned around and tugged my sweater over my head.

    "God, look at you, everything's so perfect!" Vivi marveled. "No stretch marks, no cellulite, no arm flab..." she reached down and traced my collarbone with her finger.

    "Thanks," I said, "But as you know, I like arm flab." I reached out and made a little caliper out of my fingers, pinching her jiggly upper arms. "And I like rolls." I ran my hands all over her belly, savoring the softness.

    Fascinated, we took off the rest of our clothes and lay on our sides on the bed, facing each other, touching everything, Vivi marveling at how tight and smooth everything was on me, me exploring all her curves and rolls. And then she crawled to the foot of the bed, nibbled her way up my thighs, and buried her face between my legs. I don't know what she was thinking, but I didn't stop her. Soon I managed to relax and enjoy it, my breath coming faster as I thought about how it had felt to feed James earlier.

    As I got close, to my surprise, James heaved himself onto his side and began to talk softly to me. "I heard Vivi say something about what you two could do to me if you tag-teamed feeding me," he said. "I'm already almost 400 pounds, how much bigger do you suppose you could make me? Do you want to see me waddling around at 500 pounds, so obese I can't go more than half a block without stopping to rest?" I moaned, and he kept going. "Or maybe 600--sitting on the couch with a gallon of weight gain shake, my belly hanging down between my legs and toward the ground," he said, and I whimpered, so close now but dying to hear what he'd say next. Vivi's tongue was driving me insane. "Or how about 700, just barely able to roll myself over in bed?"

    And with that, I came, yelling and then gasping and then just lying there, waiting for my heart to stop hammering. Once I opened my eyes, I saw Vivi, looking at James and rubbing her jaw. When she saw me stir, she said, "So...how was it?"

    I sat up and shook my head. "Unbelievably great." I looked at her abundant, silky flesh and it occurred to me how much poundage she might put on if we were both feeding James. The idea of being around two gainers, one intentional and one not, was incredibly appealing. "So..." I leaned forward and ran one finger between her breasts. "Your turn?"
     
  8. Sep 26, 2013 #8

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    This story's all written, I just have to clean up the rest of it before I post it--should be in the next few days.
     
  9. Sep 26, 2013 #9

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    This story should probably come with a warning label: "Do not read if you have to focus on anything else any time soon (or have a weak heart)" Full of images that I'm sure going to have a hard time chasing out of my thoughts today!
     
  10. Sep 26, 2013 #10

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    amazing story so far. i really hope you continue
     
  11. Sep 26, 2013 #11

    jim austin

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    WOW what a read. I got started and just couldn't stop. Spectacularly written with great characterisations and descriptions. I can't wait for more, please continue, and thank you
     
  12. Sep 27, 2013 #12

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    Thank you so much, guys! It's very cool to hear that you're enjoying it so far.
     
  13. Sep 27, 2013 #13

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    Chapter 8 – Vivi, June 2009

    "Guess," I teased, holding the scale's handheld weight display behind my back.

    "Still 401?" James guessed. "Can we hurry? I basically have all my weight on one leg," James complained.

    "That's a lot of weight to have on one leg cause you're four-oh-THREE, Fatso." I reached inside his bathrobe to caress his huge belly, stretch-marked and irresistible. He glowed with pleasure at having put on another two pounds. Hannah grumbled from her perch on the edge of the tub. "What?" I asked.

    She rubbed her temples. "I'm of two minds here. On the one hand, James, I love how you're blimping up now that you basically can't walk. You were...what, 385 when you broke your ankle? All that new blubber looks fucking amazing on you, and I love watching you wheel your tubby ass over to the fridge on that office chair about 20 times a day. On the other hand, Dr. M wasn't screwing around when he said you have to watch your weight. You fractured your ankle--it would be really unwise to gain a hundred pounds while it heals. I don't want to be the babysitter here, but someone has to be reasonable."

    We all grew a bit solemn. I wheeled James' office chair into the bathroom so he could sit. "I've looked at my x-ray, and you're probably right, but just to play devil's advocate--" James started.

    "You are not ready to give up walking now, and Vivi's not ready for it either," Hannah interrupted bluntly.

    James looked up at me, his beautiful eyebrows like wings drawing together. "You're not, Vivi-V? I figured you'd love it if all I could do was sit or lay around all day and eat."

    I indulged in a miniature daydream of how huge he could get if we did that. Hannah cleared her throat loudly, dragging me back to reality. "Baby, it's such a hot fantasy," I began, "I love the idea of you just being this enormous porker on the couch, eating constantly. But Nana's right, we're not ready right now--we live in a second-floor walkup, we can't survive on just my income, and honestly..." I looked at Hannah for moral support and she nodded. "I'm not sure I want to work ten hours a day and then come home and wait on you hand and foot the rest of the time, ad infinitum. I'm afraid I might start to resent that." I trailed off, looking at the floor.

    James sighed heavily and rubbed his beard. "I hadn't thought about it that way. So what do we need to do?"

    Hannah leaned forward. "Here's the thing—we’re going to make you that big, but it’ll take some preparation. Viv and I came up with sort of a plan. Let me get my notes..." She squeezed past James, happily exclaiming "Jesus, Tubby, it's impossible to get around you!" and ran to the living room for her palm pilot.

    "Notes?!" James yelped, looking up at me with nervous eyes.

    "You know Hannah and her lists," I said airily. "Just keep an open mind," I said as she squeezed back into the bathroom, pecking away with her stylus. "Once your ankle's healed, we'll set things up for you to get as fat as you want. Or maybe as fat as Nana and I want," I said, liking that idea better.

    Hannah rushed ahead. "Here's the rough sketch: we find a single-story house with a pool in the burbs, maybe New Jersey or upstate, close enough that you can still commute in to the hospital when you need to—for as long as you can, anyway. We get a couple of decent-sized vehicles, extremely sturdy furniture, mini-fridges in every room, walk-in showers, etcetera. Maybe eventually a bariatric bed, ceiling lift, stuff like that--but I'm getting ahead of myself. How does this sound so far?" she and I both looked at James expectantly.

    "Great...expensive...you keep saying 'we'..." he looked at me for clarification.

    "Hannah's agreed to move in, just like we talked about! Isn't that great?" it had been torture to keep this from him while Hannah and I hashed it out—what we wanted, how to reach our shared goal. I knew it wouldn't be perfect (surely each of us would feel like the third wheel at some point), but three actually seemed feasible in a way that two didn't.

    We watched James process the idea. "So, if I hadn't tripped getting off the bus and broken my stupid ankle, we could be working toward this right now?" he asked slowly, a smile spreading across his round face.

    "YES," said Hannah and I in unison, then laughed at each other.

    "Heal fast," he shouted at his chubby leg and its boot-shaped cast.
     
  14. Sep 27, 2013 #14

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    Chapter 9 – James, November 2009

    After about six months, my ankle was as close to normal as it was going to get. With a fair amount of nagging from Hannah, I managed to keep my weight under 410 (somehow my doctor didn't see this as an accomplishment).

    Toward the end of my convalescence, I had such bad cabin fever that I was about to lose my mind. Vivi suggested a trip to the movies, and eventually we all agreed on "Pirate Radio," which had just come out. Little did I know the whole night would remind me of how corpulent I was getting. Just putting on clothes was an ordeal: I'd been wearing sweats and t-shirts around the apartment for so long that after trying on a few pairs of slacks, then jeans, I realized that only my sweats fit anymore.

    We took a cab to the movie theater--between the weakness in my leg and how little exercise I'd gotten in the last few months, I wasn't up for public transportation. Even at that, the trip up to the third floor of the theater seemed endless--I was breathless and sweating by the time we bellied up to concessions. "Two large popcorns...." Hannah paused, "Will you put topping in the middle and on top? Excellent. And and annnnnd..." she eyed the candy case, "One box of everything on the middle row here, and three large sodas." The cashier looked slightly startled. "This guy can really put it away," she explained, then smiled and rested one hand on my belly.

    With our arms and pockets full of refreshments, we made our way into the theater. "Okay, we need five together," Hannah said, scanning the theater.

    "Why five?" I asked.

    Vivi snickered. "Tubby, I can't squeeze into just one of these seats anymore, so you definitely can't. She's saying two for you, two for me, and one for her." And sure enough, I found that with the armrest up, my bulk covered at least one and a half seats.

    As the previews started, I tipped my popcorn toward Hannah. "No, no, V and I are sharing one, Fatty," she whispered. "I want you to eat every last bite of yours; movie theater popcorn's supposed to be super fattening. Vivi and I have both missed watching you gorge yourself--we're so excited to get to encourage you again. Personally, I can't wait 'til you're so blubbery you fill up three of these seats." I immediately started devouring the popcorn--after I finished it, Vivi slid one hand between my thigh and my mound of pubic fat, handed me a package of Twizzlers with her other hand, and whispered, "Keep going, Tubby." She and Hannah kept fondling my fat and handing me more food every time I finished something, whispering encouragement in each of my ears, and by the end of the movie I was buzzing with sugar and so full that every bump on the cab ride home made me burp.
     
  15. Sep 27, 2013 #15

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    Chapter 10 – Hannah, April 2010

    As we bought the New Jersey house and prepared to move in, Vivi and I kept calling it the goldfish tank--when we realized how much bigger it was than James' one-bedroom apartment, we joked that hopefully it would work like the theory that a goldfish grows to the size of its tank. We furnished it before we moved in, which was worth it--the day we got there, James was up to 460 pounds and I knew we had moved just in time. He walked slowly from room to room, taking it all in--the sofa, recliner, dining furniture, office chair, outdoor furniture by the pool, all built to hold a lot of weight. Plus the walk-in showers with sturdy benches, and an assortment of fridges and pantries scattered throughout the house so he never had to go too far in order to eat.

    He trundled into the bedroom and gaped at the size of the bed. "How'd you find a bed this big? This is way wider than a king."

    "It's actually two double beds together, in a custom frame,” I explained.

    He looked at me wonderingly. "You're amazing. I don't know how you did all this."

    "Like it?" I asked.

    "Lay down and I'll show you how much I like it," he growled. He may have been kidding, but I ran and leapt on the bed. He lumbered over, climbed onto the bed and lay on top of me, lowering all his weight onto me. I couldn't breathe and loved it--he knew this was one of my favorite things, feeling every ounce of his hugely obese body pressing down on me, feeling enveloped by his soft, pliable fat. When I couldn't take it a second longer, I tapped him and he rolled off, and I gasped for breath.

    "Oh my god, Tubby, that just gets better as you get even more enormous," I panted.

    "I don't know," he said, "Sometimes I worry that I'm going to smush you to death."

    "I literally can't imagine a better way to die. Hey, do the other thing I like," I ordered. So he lifted up his polo, pushed his waistband under his belly apron, knelt next to me on the bed and lowered his belly fat onto my face. Again, I loved the smothering, breathtaking weight, and the feeling of his cool, smooth blubber on my skin, especially my lips.

    There was a light knock on the bedroom door and James sat up, off my face. "Hey," Vivi said from the doorway, grinning. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have something you guys might like." She was holding two very large carrier bags with white bakery boxes inside them, and set both on the bedside table. "There's a diner near here, and it has one of those...rotating pie cases?"

    "I love those!" James exclaimed.

    "I know!" said Vivi, tweaking one of his nipples. "I thought we needed something special to celebrate the new house, so...well, I bought everything in the case. 14 pies." She opened one of the boxes, dipped her finger in a dollop of whipped cream, and put it in James' mouth. "I'm not saying you have to eat them all today..."

    "--but you should at least try!" I finished, thrilled at this turn of events.

    James looked from one of us to the other as if he couldn't believe his luck. "Jesus, you two. Well, hand me a pie and a fork, then," he said, flopping back onto the bed happily.

    "I could," said Vivi, "But I had another idea on the way home." She addressed me. "What about a one man pie-eating contest?"

    "Ohhh, that's SO much better," I agreed, and James looked nervous.

    Ten minutes later he sat at the dining room table, hands tied to his chair, and when I shouted "GO!" he plunged his face into a chocolate cream pie, hogging it down ravenously. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen--he was going to weigh 500 pounds in no time.
     
  16. Sep 27, 2013 #16

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    Chapter 11 – Vivi, July 2010

    "I'd swear this bikini actually fit last summer," I fussed, pushing my breasts into the cups again.

    James smirked lazily as he floated past. "Last summer as in 'back when you only weighed 300 pounds' last summer?"

    I tittered. "What are you implying, Tubby?"

    He snorted. "I'm pretty sure I didn't imply shit--I'm saying that bikini isn't up to the task of covering all of you now."

    I unclasped the top. "Let's see how it does on your tits," I goaded him, taking it off and dropping it beside the pool.

    He guffawed. "It wouldn't even cover my side boob," he said, then opened his eyes to see that I was topless. "Hello," he said, paddling over and cupping my breasts as they bobbed in the water. I wrapped my legs around as much of his vast midsection as I could, and ran my hands over his silky, buoyant fat.

    "Want to get out?" he asked, and I nodded eagerly.

    We got in the master bathroom shower together to rinse off, and although it wasn't strictly necessary, I made him sit on the shower bench while I soaped him up, because I loved getting to handle his slippery fat. "I have to practice bathing you for when you can't do it anymore," I said, getting in between his back rolls.

    "Sure you do," he teased me, pinching my ass and making me squeal. When we got out of the shower, I dried him, then myself. Then he surprised me by saying, "Get up on the vanity."

    "Okay," I said, "But if it collapses under me, you have to tell Hannah when she gets home." I hefted my ass up onto the counter between the sinks and it held, thank goodness. Meanwhile, James used his foot to slide our scale in front of him, and handed me the display.

    I raised my eyebrows at him, growing more aroused by the second. "It's not weigh-in day..."

    "I feel really massive today," he said, stepping on. The display blinked a number, and I must have looked surprised. "Well?" he asked, stepping off the scale and sidling over to me. He took the display out of my hand and pressed in to me, rested his forehead against mine. "How big am I today?"

    "490," I said quietly, smiling.

    He looked abundantly pleased. "490! Vivi, do you see what you've done to me?" He nibbled on my earlobe. "I've gained almost 200 pounds since I met you." He kissed the sensitive spot on my neck. "I'm almost a quarter ton." I groaned and squeezed his enormous love handles, and he leaned me back and sucked both my nipples in turn. "You've made me so incredibly fat," he said, and then slid his fingers inside me and smiled knowingly. "And you love it, I don't know why, but you love what a porker I am, you can't get enough."

    "Don't stop," I begged.

    He kept working away with his hand, and I loved that the motion made him jiggle. "And I'm not even huge enough for you, greedy girl," he said, and I was dying, I thought my heart might beat right out of my body. He kept on. "Even though I'm this fat, you still want more, you'll keep putting piles of food in front of me until I’ve gained hundreds of pounds, until I’m so fat I can't do anything but eat." I was incredibly close to the edge.

    "And that's what you want," I panted, half statement, half question.

    "That is what I want. I want to be a mountain of lard, I want to be your mountain of lard, always eating, always getting more obese," he rasped, and I came so hard, screaming, gasping, squeezing his flesh so tight I left finger marks.
     
  17. Sep 27, 2013 #17

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    Chapter 12 – James, December 2010

    The three of us were sprawled, naked on the substantial master bed, Hannah's head resting on Vivi's pillowy midsection and her legs slung across my legs. Hannah had gotten ahold of some powerful medical weed and she and I were passing it back and forth--Vivi didn't smoke, which knowing her was probably for the best.

    "Hey, what do we have to eat?" I asked, knowing I'd be hungry as hell soon.

    Hannah let out a plume of smoke and cough-laughed for a minute. "What a surprise, James needs to stuff his face again." She handed me the joint, then slid her hand under my love handle and bounced it. "Not that I'm complaining, Fatty, it's awesome that you keep layering on winter blubber. Vivi, what do we have to eat?"

    Vivi sighed. "I was kind of counting on us having some leftovers from the big Christmas feast, but--" I raised my hand and she tittered. "Yes, do you have a question?"

    "What's a...leftover?" I deadpanned, and Hannah and Vivi both laughed riotously. Once they quieted down I said, "Seriously though, what can we put in my belly posthaste?" I pushed on both sides of my stomach so that the flab mounded up in front of me, then let it fall back into its regular form, wobbling like crazy.

    "Honestly, I'm so wiped out from the holidays I could use a night off from cooking, but I have an idea, if y'all don't mind throwing on some clothes and going somewhere in the minivan," Vivi said.

    Half an hour later, we pulled up to White Castle. "Oh, cause we're stoned, I get it!" said Hannah, amused.

    Vivi chuckled. "I thought about that, but this is just our first stop. Tonight is fast food progressive dinner," she explained. "We'll get a different course at each stop."

    I untied the drawstring on my sweatpants. "How many courses will there be?" I asked, stretching out my waistband. The 7x had been a good choice.

    "That's for me to know and you to find out, Fatty," Vivi said. "Just order as if each place is the last stop," she said, meeting my eye in the rearview mirror.

    It was a good thing I had the munchies that night, because the food just kept coming. First stop: sliders, mozzarella sticks, chicken rings. Next, taco salad, nachos, some kind of tacos-wrapped-in-tacos. Next stop, Five Guys, for a bag of french fries the size of my head. At this point I started to feel pretty full. "Hey, are we headed home soon?" I wondered.

    "Nope!" sang Vivi, sipping a large milkshake while driving to our next purveyor of fat, sugar, and salt. "Nana, sounds like our prize pig back there is going to need help, maybe you should hop in back."

    "You read my mind," said Hannah, who shimmied her little frame between the front seats and perched next to me on the sliver of seat not claimed by my massive body. "You're not ready to stop gorging yourself just yet, Tubby." She pressed the fingertips of one hand into my belly. "No, there's definitely room in there. Our butterball's not done."

    At the next stop, I rallied for waffle batter chicken strips and ate coleslaw while Hannah slathered biscuits with butter and honey, which she then hand-fed me, and made me lick the sticky honey off her fingers.

    At the place after that she coaxed tater tots and hot dogs into me while I just tried to keep breathing and not explode. After I swallowed the last bite of hot dog, I put my foot down. "Seriously, we have to..." a thundering belch escaped me, "...go home."

    "Okay, just one last stop, Tubbo," Vivi called from the front seat. It wound up being DQ, where Vivi strolled inside to get our order.

    Watching her go, I noticed something. "Wow, is it me or is she getting really…?"

    Hannah stared too. "You know how sometimes when Vivi's cooking, she has a batch of cookies or a pie that 'didn't turn out right?' That's usually her code for 'Whoops, y'all, I ate that batch.' I've caught her at it a few times. Not that I mind...and not that you mind either," she said, sinking her finger into my side.

    After a few minutes, Vivi emerged triumphantly with a large Blizzard in each hand. She slid the side door of the minivan open and handed both to Hannah. "Please tell me one of those is for you," I begged.

    Hannah laughed. "These'll be simple, Fatty. We'll just let them melt a bit, and you can drink them down like beverages." I didn’t bother to point out that beverages do not, as a rule, have chunks of cookie dough or cheesecake in them. Hannah continued, "The good thing is that if you're this full, both of these are definitely going to turn into more lard. Once you get this stuffed during a binge, I know you're going to pork up. Eventually 520 will be a distant memory." I got goosebumps thinking about the long waddle to the scale each week as my weight crept from 500 to 600 pounds.
     
  18. Sep 27, 2013 #18

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  19. Sep 27, 2013 #19

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    AndyF150

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    Bravo. Well done!
     
  20. Sep 28, 2013 #20

    ffaboots

    ffaboots

    ffaboots

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    Chapter 13 – Hannah, March 2011

    As we neared a year of living together in the new house, Vivi and I wanted for the three of us to go out to celebrate. An anniversary dinner, as it were. I knew if Vivi mentioned it to James he'd just talk her out of it--he'd become a total homebody--so I brought it up one night when she was working late.

    James was watching TV, and I brought him a platter of his latest favorite dessert--pop-tart ice cream sandwiches, to soften him up (pun intended). At 550 calories each, I couldn't wait to see how fast these things pushed him toward the 600-pound mark. "Mmm, what's this for?" he asked, starting to run his tongue around the edges of the first one.

    "It's a bribe, so you'll consider something for me," I said as I settled into the loveseat with a book. "Vivi and I want to go out next week to celebrate one year of all of us living together."

    "Pass," he said, a spray of pop-tart crumbs falling on his soft breasts. "Can't you guys just make a fancy dinner here or something?" He had gotten super lazy, which I admit was kind of sexy because all the lounging in his chair meant he packed on pounds as if it were his job, but it was like pulling teeth to get him to do anything outside his normal routine of work, sleeping, hanging out with us, lazing in the pool, and gorging himself.

    "Come on, it's one night," I reasoned.

    "I probably don't even have any going-out clothes that fit," he said, pushing the tight waistband of his boxers under his massive gut to punctuate his point. Clothes had become little more than an annoyance to him--they were expensive and he outgrew them fast.

    "I can order you something," I suggested. "It'd be fun to see what size you've grown into, wouldn't it?"

    He grunted. "I don't wanna go out..." he started.

    For some reason—short fuse? PMS? Who knows—hearing him say exactly what I knew he'd say made my irritation spike, and I flung the paperback in my hand across the room, where it bounced off a wall. "Goddammit!" I shouted. "We'd like to dress you up and take you out and show you off! 'Look at what a blimp this guy is! Watch us take turns feeding him dessert!' Doesn't that excite you the slightest bit?"

    James looked startled. "Jesus! What is your problem?"

    "I knew you'd be difficult about this! We never go anywhere, and it's only going to get worse," I said, clambering off the loveseat and getting in his face. "Just ONE TIME, can you not be such a pain in the ass?"

    "Can you calm the fuck down?" he yelled. "I sure as hell don't want to now!" He started to heave himself up from his chair, and something about the way everything jiggled and shifted like an avalanche of lard as he got up stopped me cold. Once he was standing, I grabbed his tits with both hands. "What?" he asked, but then I was kissing him, I was touching every pliable inch of his nearly 550-pound body that I could reach. And he was kissing me back, both of us so worked up, him grabbing a big handful of my hair and pulling, our mouths nearly bruising each other in our fervor.

    "Your body drives me fucking crazy," I gasped while he bit my earlobe.

    "Short drive," he said back, and kissed me hard again. "Wait," he said after a few moments, breaking off the clinch. "The ice cream sandwiches are melting--I can let them melt, but..." he trailed off, testing me with a look.

    I looked at the tray and saw that he was right. "No you can't. Follow me, Fatty," I said, picking up the tray and heading for the master bedroom. I could hear him trying to hurry behind me. Once we got into the bedroom, I made him lay back on a stack of pillows, straddled his legs, and fed him every last one of the pop-tart ice cream sandwiches, then made him tilt the platter toward his mouth and drink the melted ice cream from it, enjoying how it dripped down his chins. So sloppy and greedy. By that time, the combination of residual anger and lust had made me ravenous for him. I pulled down his boxers and he was rock hard. I climbed on top of him and rode him forcefully. His belly fell into a rhythm where it would slap against me like a blubbery wave.

    "Oh GOD I'm so full," he groaned as I kept pumping away.

    "You bet you're full, Fatboy," I said, noticing how out of breath he was. "I'm going to keep you this full all day, every day, until you're too fucking obese to do anything but gorge yourself like a hog and then sleep it off. 800 or 900 pounds should do it."

    "Oh god, don't stop, don’t stop," he moaned. Not long after, we both peaked, nearly screaming from the release. I collapsed on the bed next to him to recover.

    "Jesus, that was amazing," he said, once he'd caught his breath. He looked over at me, somewhat hesitant. "Are you still mad?"

    "I don't have the energy right now," I chuckled. "Give me a few minutes, though."

    "God forbid," he protested, laughing. "I'll go next week. TRUCE."

    I rolled onto one side and pinched his cushiony arm. "Did you pick a fight just to get me all riled up?" I asked.

    His eyes were closed. "Could be," he said.
     

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