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Smoke - by EDX (~BBW/BHM, Romance, Introspectiom ~~MWG )

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Tad

Dimensions' loiterer
Joined
Sep 29, 2005
Messages
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The great white north, eh?
~BBW/BHM, Romance, Introspectiom ~~MWG - Some people will give up anything for true love

[Author's note: Originally posted on my web page, a number of years ago]

Smoke
by EDX

The critical point in our relationship came when I asked Mel “Pass me a cigarette, will you?”

Sure there were a lot of other critical points, times when if things had gone a little differently we might never even have gotten together.

For example, at my good-bye party from Robertson Multi-Pac. We were at Carlos', the usual place for work parties, and I’d had one of the famous one quart mugs of beer, leading to me feeling a bit maudlin about leaving my first full time job after three years there.

I was trying to think of the positive, like meeting new women at my new work place. I ran through my criteria: smart, sassy, fat, certainly well over 200 pounds but not much over 300 pounds, with a clearly defined waist and a belly that didn’t sag much.

At Robertson Multi-Pac all the women had been thin except for Mel, who was at least as far out of my criteria the other way. Then I suddenly realized that I was crazy for her looks anyway, the reason I’d not been able to get her out of my mind was not because she had such an extreme body, but because I had a crush on her.

I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t figured that out before then. Certainly there had been reasons not to date her before, such as working together and that she was a few years older then me. Also she was so extremely fat. It wasn’t just that she exceeded my criteria, or that she was shaped something like a dumpling, fat face on top of a fatter neck blending into rounded shoulders above the rolls that were her breasts which lay on her massive belly, protruding way out in front of her and drooping a fair way to her knees.

Just walking from her desk to the smoking room at the back of the plant she’d get flushed and short of breath. It was easy to find reasons not to date someone so physically incapable, but I realized that it didn’t matter, that although I was no jock, I had the capacity to help take care of her, and we could actually be a fine couple.

That afternoon I went around to say my final good-byes, and I managed to catch Mel in her office when nobody else was bugging her and she didn’t have a phone growing out of her ear. She single-handedly kept all of our shipments straight and on schedule, and I hated to interrupt one of her rare quiet moments.

Still, I went in and asked “Can I get a good bye hug?.

She blushed a bit, but agreed. To get out of her armless chair she had to lean forward, sending a wave of belly rolling onto her desk top. Then she braced two pudgy hands on her desk and pushed, somehow coming to her feet and rolling her chair away at once. Then she came around the desk with peculiar waddle, leaned back to balance the weight of her massive soft gut which spilled down the front of her legs most of the way to her knees.

When we hugged I had to lean forward over her belly, feeling her so soft fat form itself too me from thigh to chest. I gripped her sides, hands sinking inches deep into her pillowy softness, and held her close, then kissed her on both cheeks.

I almost left then, almost convinced myself that such a together and brilliant woman wouldn’t ever date me, but managed to work up the nerve to say: “Now that we aren’t working together, would you like to” I paused for a second, realizing just before I said “catch a movie” that there was no way she’d fit into the seats at the local theatre. I rapidly searched my brain and recovered with “go out to dinner, or something, sometime?”

She was a little flustered at the offer, but I gave her my phone number and got her promise to call me.

A couple of days later, she did call me. She sounded uncharacteristically nervous, but she called me. I’d already rushed around scouting restaurants for one where she could be safely and comfortably seated, and had chosen a place, and we agreed to meet for dinner.

I stopped by the restaurant and reserved a suitable table. I knocked on her door with flowers in hand, and once she was ready brought my Corolla around. The seat belt wouldn’t fit her, but I managed not to get into an accident or get pulled over. I dropped her at the door of the restaurant before going to park.

When I came into the entrance of the restaurant I found a couple of women in there with Mel, looking over her bulk and sniggering. I found my most confident voice and announced “If you’ll excuse me, my date and I have reservations.”

And I took her arm, feeling only the soft bulges of flesh as if there was no bone in there at all, and escorted her to the maitre d. He recognized me and we were immediately escorted to our table, and waited on handsomely. I was quietly proud, I’d recognized the limits created by her extreme size, and had made sure they didn’t get in our way. I could make this work.

Had any of those events gone otherwise, we probably wouldn’t have started formally dating.
 

Tad

Dimensions' loiterer
Joined
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Messages
13,297
Location
The great white north, eh?
Part 2

There were other critical milestones, times when one of us or the other had to make a leap of faith of some sort for things to move forward.

The very next time we went out, she asked if I’d be willing to drive her somewhat ancient Taurus. She’d had the suspension re-built to hold her weight comfortably, and had longer seat belts installed. She admitted she didn’t like driving, because for her feet to reach the pedals, the wheel was digging into her belly. She was willing to be honest about her limitations, and I was able to demonstrate that I didn’t mind those limitations.

A couple of weeks after that first dinner, after we’d been to a few restaurants and a couple of bars, I was running out of safe dates. So I asked if she’d be willing to come to my apartment to watch a video. She chose to trust me, and we spent a pleasant couple of hours eating take out pizza and watching The English Patient. I didn’t try to pressure her for more than cuddling, and as the video went on I could feel her relax more and more.

After the video, I pulled out some fudge and ice cream and suggested some dessert. She demurred, claiming she was full. I almost let it go, but instead asked “But you’ve really not eaten much tonight, how is it possible to fuel your body on so little?”

She ended up going bright red, but admitted she’d had a light meal before coming over, since she didn’t like to eat too much in front of other people. Then I admitted that I liked seeing her eat, that I thought she was fine just as she was, and didn’t expect her to change her eating habits, but hoped she wouldn’t hide them from me.

In the end, she agreed to have some dessert, if I would have a good sized serving myself. After that, our dates lost their formal quality, and I think we both began to enjoy them more. Certainly she began to eat more with me, and I found my appetite growing to at least come close to matching hers, food was just so much more enjoyable with someone who really adored it.

A couple of days later we were just settling down on my couch for another video when my phone rang, and one of my buddies called, saying we’d all forgotten another friend’s birthday, could I meet them at them at the Organ Grinder for nachos and beer.

I replied “I was just settling down to watch a video with my girlfriend. If she’s up to going out, would it be cool if we both came?”

Mel was clearly nervous, but game, so we went. The guys were stunned to meet Mel, but had the taste to keep any comments away from us at least. Then she whipped them at that bar video trivia game that was so popular then. After that, occasionally we’d meet up with them together, although there were still a lot of places and activities that were not Mel suitable. That didn’t bother me much, as it gave me a handy excuse to avoid the more strenuous activities that I wasn’t really in shape for anyway.

A month or so after that was Canadian Thanksgiving, and we went to see Mel’s family. Her parents were both heavy, although her mom had them both on a diet of sorts. Her younger brother was pretty muscular, but was starting to soften around the middle, and you could see how he’d look like his dad in another twenty years.

Her younger sister was only a little chubby, and was there with her three year old—apparently the dad was long gone—and couldn’t seem to believe Mel had a boyfriend, even one who was a little pudgy and couldn’t keep the curls in his hair under control.

Aside from the sister, they embraced me. I found them a little hard to cope with; I’d had a pretty middle-class, white collar, upbringing, while they worked at a grocery store, did maintenance for Greyhound, night security, and in a beauty salon. Mel was the only one of them who had gone to college, or even finished high school. While none of them were stupid, there were some attitude and etiquette differences. Whether it was a class thing or the effects of how college affected thinking I'm not sure, but that was a bit of a barrier between us.

We were mostly stuck in the house during the visit, as there as there weren’t many excuses to go for a drive, and Mel wasn’t up to walking much more than a block at a time. Still, even if it wasn’t all that fun, she’d been willing to bring me to see her family, and I’d gone, and we’d all managed to get along for a long weekend.

When we got home on the holiday Monday, we finally slept together. It was at Mel’s apartment, and she suggested it in a kind of shy voice. I wasn’t shy at all in taking up the offer. She insisted in having the lights off before clothes came off. She was not a virgin, and I had slept with a few women before, but that first night was awkward. She was so much bigger than I was used to. Delightfully bigger, and mind blowingly soft as well.

But all that soft flesh tended to feel the same, and in pitch darkness, and with her unfamiliar dimensions, I had a hard time telling if I was feeling part of a breast or a belly roll, if I was fondling her thigh or her belly apron. It all worked out in the end to mutual satisfaction, but it was a little awkward. But I managed not to feel inadequate as a lover, and she didn’t develop any doubts about my adoration for her body. However, as tends to be the case with sex, that initial experience out of the way, it got better quickly, even if it was always still in the dark.

Aside from the obvious, the other reason Mel had been shy about sleeping together was that she needed a CPAP machine, basically a mask that fitted over her nose while sleeping, connected by tubes to a machine that kept blowing air into her. This kept her throat properly open while sleeping, so that she would breathe well. It was a big weird, but anything that kept her breathing I was willing to deal with.

So there were plenty of key moments in there where one or both of us took a chance, and things moved forward.

As I said, however, the key moment was when I asked for a cigarette. See, she was a smoker. Not too heavy as things go, and lighter than the rest of her family, as I’d discovered over Thanksgiving weekend, but a smoker all the same. I was not a smoker. She smoked around me as little as possible, but once we began to spend the night together she couldn’t totally avoid it.

I got used to the lingering odor on her clothes and in her hair, and came to block out the smell in her apartment, but kissing her just after a cigarette was not remotely pleasant. For those first couple of weeks of sleeping together, I’d been willing to do it all at her apartment, so I wouldn’t have to have her smoking in mine. But guilt got to me about that. So I quietly went out and bought a sturdier bed frame, and insisted one Friday night that we stay at my place.

Being at my apartment, I felt justified in insisting on having a reading lamp on in the bedroom. I finally got to see her naked. It was awe inspiring. Her pale skin went on for miles and miles, marked in places by stretch marks, in others by redness where rolls overlapped and got hot and sweaty. I was able to see what I was feeling, and it really intensified things for me. By the time we were done with sex I thought she was about ready to pass out, but she got up, pulled on the robe she’d packed, and waddled out to my balcony for a cigarette. By the time she came back, I was asleep.

The next morning she woke up first, and got up to use the bathroom and have a smoke. When she came back to bed, in the smoke free apartment, it seemed to me that the smell was coming off of her in waves. When she crawled into bed I could feel that she was freezing, and remembered that a cold front was supposed to have come in over night. Kissing her was somewhat nauseating, but I went through with it, and one thing led to another, and soon I had the massive weight of her legs hooked over my shoulders and was enjoying seeing wave after wave travel through her massive belly as we crashed together.

Afterwards I was ravenous for breakfast. Being with Mel seemed to have stimulated my appetite, and I’d already noticed my pants getting snug. I suggested that we didn’t need much in the way of clothes on for breakfast. Mel replied that she wanted to go have another cigarette, and I said she didn’t have to go freeze, she could smoke it in the kitchen. After she’d waddled into the kitchen a draped herself over one of my chairs, she lit up. I smelled it, and thought about kissing her afterwards, and every morning afterwards, and realized that could be a real problem. So I said “Pass me a cigarette, will you?”

 

Tad

Dimensions' loiterer
Joined
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Messages
13,297
Location
The great white north, eh?
She objected “You don’t smoke.”

I explained that maybe it was time for me to start. She wouldn’t accept that answer. Finally I said “A smoker and a non-smoker, well, there is always a barrier between them, going off for a cigarette, the smell, stuff. I don’t want that barrier between us forever.”

Mel ended up crying, and then we ended up hugging and both crying. That ended up being close to her last cigarette. She broke down and had a couple more one night, but that was it.

Oh, it wasn’t easy for her, and there were a few more episodes of tears when she was desperate for a smoke, but wouldn’t let herself have one. It seemed though that she trusted me enough to cry on my shoulder, and that seemed to be what she needed to kick the habit. This hadn’t been my intention when I asked for the cigarette, but it did end up being a better solution than what I had planned.

But it wasn’t just that she stopped smoking that made this so significant.

That was the moment that I started thinking of us as “forever,” and when she began to believe I’d always be there for her.

Of course, it wasn’t the last major event in our lives. In fact, it triggered a number of others.

Later that morning after we’d finished weeping, she cooked up a massive breakfast. I wolfed my share down in no time, then she offered me part of hers.

I said that there was no need, but she insisted “I like to see you eat too, you know. And the way you ate your first serving you couldn’t be full yet.” Then she patted my belly, that once I’d thought of us as somewhat big but that I had taken to thinking of small, due to the contrast with hers, even though I knew it had grown some.

“I don’t want you to take up smoking for me, but if you could add a little fat for me, well, it would make me feel more comfortable, less of a freak next to you.”

I readily agreed, having stayed as thin as I had up until then purely in hopes of impressing women, and frankly I’d started to worry about how tight my pants had gotten since I’d started dating Mel.

That led us to start talking openly about fat, and how much we each liked it. I’d assumed that Mel was fat from a combination of love of food, an extremely sedentary lifestyle, and genetics. I came to realize that while all of that was true, and she’d been fat from a young age, by her mid teens she’d realized that she had no desire to be thin, and had just let herself get fatter and fatter with no remorse. At least, no remorse about being so fat; she’d not expected to find a guy who adored her massive fatness, but she’d not expected to find a guy who adored her body if she was half her weight and still fat either. So she’d enjoyed her food and enjoyed her cigarettes and not worried much about men.

At least, that was how she explained it. As we talked it through more over the next few weeks, I realized that she didn’t just not have a desire to be thin, she liked being fat. Once she stopped editing herself around me, I found she was always rubbing her belly, and once I worked up the nerve I found she loved for me to comment on how big it was, although only in a positive, loving way.

I also finally could say how sexy I thought fat was, and for the first time I admitted that I had always wanted to be fat myself, but had figured I’d have to settle for a fat partner mostly. Mel began to tease me, doing things like waving a bag of cookies in front of my face saying “Just imagine how great it would feel to have a bigger, softer, belly.”

I made no real pretence of resistance, and was soon ballooning happily.

After a couple more months of mostly living Mel’s sedentary life style and packing on some weight, one day I just missed the escalator, and decided to take the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I was entirely blown by the time I made it up them. I expected to be breathing hard, but it wasn’t just that, not only was I totally out of breath I was ready to collapse into a chair.

I thought back, and realized it had been months since I’d taken the stairs or walked much over a block, and those walks had only been from the nearest parking spot to where I’d dropped Mel off at, since I never made her walk any distance at all. I realized that if this kept on, I’d be not much more capable than Mel.

Oh, I didn’t expect to get that fat, but fat enough, and if I never did any exercise my fitness would become terrible. I thought about it some more, and decided that wouldn’t really make me happier, and one of us should be at capable of at least moderate walks and climbs.

That evening I explained all of this to Mel, and said that I hoped she wouldn’t mind if I went out for a walk some evenings. To my surprise she said “Could I come too?”

I stammered, not sure how to politely say “Mel, at best you are capable of a short waddle, so no you can’t go for a walk, you literally aren’t capable of doing so.”

But she broke in, elaborating “I hate walking by myself, because people stare, and if I fall I’d have a hard time getting back up. But I should walk more. So if we go somewhere with benches, I’ll walk as much as I can, then sit and wait for you to come back, then I can retrace my way to the car with you.”

And that is what we started doing.

It was interesting, because I’d never really watched her walk before, I think I’d been a little embarrassed to be honest. It was cool because her whole body moved, her belly swayed one way and her butt the other, her arms swung and they pushed against the sprawl of her breasts. Her breathing caused her huge second chin to bob. And that is without even mentioning all the jiggling that occurred with many of her steps!

Any length of walking at all and she’d be breathing hard, but I came to realize it wasn’t just that she was out of shape, but that moving her hundreds of pounds simply took a massive amount of energy. A few minutes of walking would be enough to cause her break out into a sweat, so hard was she working. Sometimes I’d do loops, so she’d come with me a little ways each loop, with rests in between, so that she could do a fair total amount of walking without getting too hot and winded on any one stint.

We started off in a huge mall near us, although eventually in good weather we’d do it along the river. Not that Mel ever became a quick walker or capable of long distances, but her endurance and speed did actually improve quite quickly and substantially. It got to the point that many times I didn’t need to drop her off at the door of wherever we were going, I could go park a block or two away and she could walk back with no more than somewhat heavy breathing.

We started walking not so long before Christmas. We spent Christmas day together, on our own, at her apartment. Amongst other activities, such as her feeding me more turkey than I’d have imagined possible, we did find time for lots of talking. By then, the lingering smell of a smoker’s apartment was becoming apparent to Mel, and she wanted to leave her apartment, which was the perfect excuse for us to decide to move in together.

That prompted further talk, and we pretty much agreed to get engaged in the moderately near future. On Boxing Day we took the two hour drive out to see my mother for the day, on my annual visit. She was of course shocked to see how much weigh I’d gained, and to see how enormous Mel was, but of course confined herself to ambiguous and snide remarks. While there I took the opportunity to jump on her scale, and found out that I was up to around 260 pounds, forty more than the year before.

Mel was delighted with the news, but admitted she couldn’t give me any news on her weight since she’d outgrown most scales at age 17. We happily spent the rest of the holidays mostly curled up on my couch, watching movies and eating. Somewhat to my surprise, I realized that over the course of a day I was actually eating more than Mel was.

We moved in together at the end of February, and by then I’d managed to find an engagement ring I liked, and had had it re-created in larger size to fit Mel’s fat finger. I gave it too her in our empty new two bedroom apartment, before we started moving everything. Well, to be correct, before we had the movers come move everything, there was no way we were capable of hauling it all. Packing and unpacking were hard enough.

I’d gotten fat enough by then that I found getting boxes off the ground, not to mention tying my shoes, quite challenging. We managed to get everything unpacked with much panting and sweating. Afterwards Mel was all over me, commenting “You really are becoming a fat guy, finding it so hard to bend down and stand up.”

I felt slightly embarrassed by her commentary, but her affections made it clear that she viewed this as a good thing.

Our new apartment had a good sized kitchen, with room in it for a small table. That was great, because it meant we could sit together while preparing food for dinner. The living room - dining room area was big enough for us to install a decent home theatre centre, so we could really enjoy all those movies that we didn’t get to see in the theatre due to small seats.

The master bedroom was quite roomy, and we used part of that room to install a second fridge, on Mel’s insistence It let us make fewer, larger, grocery runs, as she’d argued, but it turned out also to be handy to keep bed-time snacks in. Actually, that was probably Mel’s plan all along, as she pretty much immediately started serving me cheesecake and glasses of milk in bed every evening.

The second bedroom was our all purpose room, with book cases, a spare bed, and boxes of odds and ends. A couple of weeks after we moved in I was surprised to find some hand weights there, but Mel explained that after our moving experience she wanted to build up some upper body strength for the first time in her life. Besides doing work with the hand weights she took to carrying heavy loads to the degree that she could—it wasn’t so much lack of strength as the awkwardness of carrying most loads that limited her here.
Her belly precluded holding anything big in front of her, for example. Mind you, I was noticing too how often my belly was starting to get in my way.

We donated most of Mel’s old furniture to Good Will, to leave the smoke smell behind. In the course of equipping our new apartment, Mel bought a bathroom scale that claimed to weigh up to 400 pounds. I thought Mel had maybe lost some weight, but if so she was still well beyond the scale’s capacity. We discovered I was up to 280. I couldn’t believe I’d put on 20 pounds in under ten weeks, but there was no question that my belly was continuing to grow.

Mel seemed ever more pleased as I got fatter and fatter, and I accepted that she didn’t just want me a little fatter, she wanted me as fat as I was willing to get. In the new apartment she lost all reticence about encouraging me to eat, and was quite openly pushing me to eat more and more, including my ever increasing bedtime cheesecake snacks. Since I enjoyed the food and the attention, and to be honest was beginning to love how big and jiggly my belly was getting, I didn’t say anything about it and kept on eating.

That was probably the last of the events that I can tie directly to that one question about the cigarette. Of course, life did carry on. Mel kept on getting fitter, and I kept on getting fatter. That summer I got fitted for my own CPAP machine. By the time we formally got married a year after our engagement Mel could weight herself on our scale, having come down under 400 pounds. I could still weigh myself on it too, but by then weighed almost as much as Mel did, and we were doing our walks together, me having no better endurance than she did.

When we moved into our condo a few months after that, I was some unknown amount heavier than Mel’s 380 pounds, having exceeded our scale’s limit. During the unpacking we found Mel’s exercises had paid off, and she was actually stronger than I was at carrying heavy furniture around. I felt a little humiliated, but Mel assured me that she didn’t mind, that she loved having me bigger than her, but didn’t care if I was stronger than her or not.

But she said that with a sparkle in her eye, and over the next few days she was clearly enjoying showing that she was stronger than me. Not only that, she started doing more things for me, telling me not to get up, she'd fetch me another drink, that she'd go and get the car and pick me up at the door. Clearly she was enjoying our changing status.

This past summer while we were walking in the park I found that I was sweating heavily and breathing heavily when Mel seemed to still be doing OK. She suggested sweetly that I could sit and rest, so I did so and let her carry on farther. After she came back she had me walk just a few benches at time between breaks, then left me at the last bench to go get the car, so she could pick me up at the park gate.

I was glad she was driving, because it was now awfully hard to get my belly behind the wheel. On the way home I rested in the car while she went into the grocery store for supplies, then she dropped me off at the condo door while she parked and brought up the groceries. I gratefully collapsed into my arm chair, belly overflowing the arms, and reached out for the candy on the table beside it. I was sure glad that one of us had some physical capacity.
 

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