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Ssaylleb

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May 12, 2007
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242
Location
Europe
A writer finds a new job will change his life

15th November 2014

I pulled up to the gate and rang the doorbell. The estate was so huge that all I could see inside the gate were trees. The house was not visible at all.

“Yes Sir?” a polite voice from the intercom called my attention.
“Oh, er hi. It’s Paul Crowne, for Mr. Alastaire.”
“Certainly. Please drive up to the main entrance and you will be met there.”
“Great, thanks”

The massive gates rolled back silently and I entered the grounds to my home for the next few weeks. I certainly wouldn’t run out of space, that was immediately clear. I don’t know exactly how big the estate was, but just imagine it took me a full minute to drive from the gate to the house... no forget that, this was a mansion.

I was a writer, or rather a journalist trying to break out into being a writer and had found what I hoped was my lucky break. I had written an article on the famous artist Henry Alastaire about a year ago and his agent had contacted me. Things took a while to iron out as the artist travelled frequently but we finally met up and agreed that I would write his biography. He wanted to have more input than I’d have liked but I couldn’t refuse the opportunity. His following was already so widespread that success was almost assured, and thus formed a relatively secure launching pad for my new direction as an author.

Apparently Henry felt that my article had made him appear more human, and down to earth than other writers who had focused either solely on his art, or made only a superficial attempt at understanding the man behind the art. Henry was English and had found international success quite early and now at forty years of age was a worldwide sensation, whose art commanded amongst the highest prices for a living artist. Maria, his wife of fifteen years was Spanish and devoted entirely to her husband. They were a beautiful couple, not only because they were actually good-looking, but the tender love they clearly had for one another invariably shone through.

The idea we had settled on was for me to live with them at their country estate in Cornwall for a month, during which time I would glean sufficient information as to make a first quick draft of the outlines of my book. They were then set to spend the Christmas season with her family in Spain, for around a month and then we’d meet again to go through the draft and agree on how to shape it.

I had no idea how significantly the deal was to change every sphere of my life, not only financially, but also personally; specifically my figure. As I drove up that cold but sunny morning in mid-November, my waistline had already succumbed to excess food and insufficient exercise. I had reached a deal with the newspaper I worked for in order to cover all eventualities. They would support me by granting me a leave of absence, so I had my job back if the project failed. In return they got first dibs at reviewing the book and some shared promotional events.

Of more relevance to my figure was the fact that at thirty-four years old I had the time honoured office body: not really fat but untoned, unfit and ready for weight gain. On my last day at the paper I clocked in at 180 lbs on my 5’8’ frame. I spent a month at home, reading through everything available on Henry Alastaire and memorising not only key dates and facts, but also nuggets personal to the man. I had to show him that I was worthy of the trust he placed in me. From the research point of view it was a very successful month, but all the time spent indoors saw me eating pretty much all the time. I had never worked from home, so had no discipline or routine set. I enjoyed the luxury of being able to have a real breakfast, and started off with a healthy choice of fruit, yoghurt and meusli. However as I sat on the sofa reading off my tablet I would open a bag of cookies and devour the lot before I knew it. Over time my breakfast portions became so big that I may as well have been eating pancakes.

Lunchtime was again a fun time. It was a novelty for me to have so much time to prepare food and I dug out old recipes from my mum, and found new ones online. I followed the recipes religiously, even when they clearly indicated a serving for four it never occurred to me to use a quarter of the ingredients for just me. Being new to the world of cooking, I also used the full amounts they specified, for instance a whole ounce of butter or sugar, unaware that health-conscious cooks used less than half for the same dish.

After lunch, where I’d usually eat about the food I prepared, conservatively a double portion, I’d curl up to read on the sofa but my overfull belly would soon lead me to doze off and sleep for a couple of hours. Upon waking I needed a coffee to kick off again, which tasted much better with a danish pastry. The afternoon research was again fueled by cookies until dinner time when I’d finish off the food prepared for lunch.

Some days I got so involved in reading that I left it too late or didn’t want to cook, so I’d order in take away. The pizzeria I used were known for their great deals, and many times I ended up with food I hadn’t ordered. One day it was a second pizza free, another time a couple of slices of apple pie. They also had a very hot delivery girl, Samantha, who looked even sexier in her motorbike leathers, her long blonde hair escaping under her helmet. One time she gave me my pizza, then rummaged in the box on her bike. “Oh looks like there’s an extra pie in here!” she exclaimed.

While I sorted out the money to pay her she called the restaurant. After I paid her, she handed me the pie, an entire 12” lemon meringue and said “No-one can figure where this should go, so it’s yours, on the house.”
“Oh wow, that’s really generous of you, but I’m not sure I can take it all!”
“Oh I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do with it” she smiled slyly then outrageously patted my belly before hopping back onto her bike, her round arse stretching her leather pants so tight that suddenly my own trousers were tight, but from the front.

As I walked to my unofficial office - the sofa - I passed by the hall mirror and paused to check myself out, not something I did very often. I had taken to wearing tracksuit trousers around the house, with a sweater on top. Today I was in a T-shirt, which I had to admit did look rather tight. My belly, previously a soft bulge had taken on a more defined form, rounder, even the slight roll of flab over the waistband, a “muffintop” I believe it was called seemed to be a bit bigger. I reflected on my habits over the last couple of weeks since I’d been at home and realised for the first time just how much food I was putting away.

Oh well, it’s been fun,but I’ll ease off the eating I thought. I wasn’t too worried as in any case I’d be moving to live with the Alastaires soon enough. After I finished the pizza, I looked at the pie and thought again of Samantha’s comment and looked at my belly. It seemed even bigger than before, stuffed with pizza and bunched up as I was sitting. I really shouldn’t I thought, even as I moved to the pie. Just a tiny piece I rationalised, won’t make much difference tonight. So I don’t know how I ended up nursing a painfully distended gut, and an empty pie box in my hand.

Thus it was that as I pulled up outside the main entrance of the mansion after a month working from home, my weight had made its way up 16 lbs to 196 and my belly protruded rather noticeably over my trousers. Sitting down, it formed a round ball on my lap and filled out my shirt completely, even though I had gone on a mad shopping spree the day before after I realised that none of my clothes fit decently any more.

To my surprise both Henry and his beautiful Spanish wife Maria were waiting to greet me, making me feel very welcome immediately. I noticed something different about them, but I had last met them a year ago so couldn’t put my finger on it. Different clothes and hair make a big difference. As we entered I felt the warmth of the central heating and removed my coat. As I did so Maria patted my belly and exclaimed “Oh I’m so glad you have an appetite too! You’ll fit right in!”

I was too embarrassed to speak: until a month ago I had never thought about my stomach, now it had been pointed out by two gorgeous woman in the space of two weeks. Maria noticed my discomfiture and apologised, then patted her own soft belly. It was only then I realised what was different about them: they were both plumper than when I had last seen them. Henry had always carried a gut around; not huge by any means, but certainly a good 20 or 30 lbs over what weight charts showed as ideal. Now I was sure his belly was bigger than it used to be, but as I say, when you’re using to seeing someone on TV and then meet them in the flesh there are always going to be differences.

The day passed pleasantly enough: my room, a suite in fact was larger and more comfortable than my apartment so I had no complaints there. They showed me around the mansion then a bell rang out through the house.

Maria clapped her hands in joy and squealed out “finally, lunch! Let’s go, I’m famished.” Even after so many years in England, she retained a lovely Spanish accent that together with her vivacious personality made her a lot of fun to be with. Lunch turned out to be a huge spread, making my own large lunches seem small by comparison. Once we were seated a couple of staff served us and ensured our plates and wine glasses were constantly filled. My belly soon felt full against my waistband and looking down it seemed to be inflating with every bite I took. Maria showed a great interest in me, repeatedly asking if I liked the food and encouraging me to try a bit of this, or take another serving of that. I noticed she did the same to her husband, as a result I was sure we both ate way more than we would have alone.

A good two hours later we were done feasting and all three of us moaned and rubbed our stuffed bellies. No wonder they had gained weight I thought, if they always eat like this!! Henry stood up and let out a belch.
“Oh you rude pig!” scolded Maria in mock horror.
“Need to sleep this off” he murmured drowsily, “see you later.”

A staff member helped me to my suite, as I couldn’t find my way there alone, and I was mortified to realise that I was actually half-drunk and couldn’t walk straight. To make it worse as the food in my distended belly sloshed around, a couple of burps escaped which I couldn’t hold back. The extremely well trained staff pretended that he heard nothing even as I excused myself awkwardly.

Alone in my bedroom I took off my shirt and stared at my reflection. The untoned and slightly flabby belly of a month ago looked like a balloon had been attached to an air pump and left unattended. Pouring out from the unnatural confines of the trousers waistband, a surge of flab rolled around in thick lovehandles that gave way to an undeniably fat gut. Above this my hitherto flat chest had also taken its share of flab. Man boobs were on the way.

Massaging my belly softly, I said to the mirror, “I hope that every meal won’t be like this” but as I opened my trousers before falling into bed and passing out I had time to correct myself .”I do hope every meal is like this!” I was awoken by a discreet knock at the door and a maid let herself in to leave a steaming pot of coffee and a plate of biscuits on a table. I mumbled my thanks as she left and made short work of the snack. I pondered on my thoughts before I slept. On one hand I was enjoying this new sensation of relishing food, but the consequences were all too plain to see in my expanding gut.

Still feeling groggy I dressed up again and ventured downstairs where I met Henry, who looked bright and chipper.
“Right Paul, time to get down to work!” boomed Henry.
“Absolutely, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” I stammered. “I’ must apologise for my behaviour at lunch, I don’t normally drink wine.”
“Nonsense” laughed Henry, “we expect our guests to eat well here, and no good meal has ever lacked wine!”

We outlined our plan for the next month. Henry felt most artistically productive in the mornings, so I could quietly observe him work but was not permitted to interrupt him for any reason. We would then break for lunch and after a siesta, evenings would be free for me to ask him questions and engage him in discussions.

Maria joined us and we chatted pleasantly. I soon found a discreet waiter asking what drink I’d like and I opted for a gin and tonic. This was served along peanuts and the most amazing olives I’d ever had. I actually stopped talking mid-sentence at that point and savoured the taste. Maria noticed and smiled. “Good aren’t they? I get them with me from Spain.”
“Simply amazing” I had to agree.

At one point the bell rang out again and we got up for dinner. “I hope you brought an appetite, we really eat at supper” smiled Maria. So lunch was a light snack? I thought with simultaneous yet contrasting feelings of illicit glee and horror.
 
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otherland78

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Apr 23, 2007
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hmm this maria is so sweet and interesting ;-) ^^ for one waistline ^^ hihi
 

Ssaylleb

Well-Known Member
Joined
May 12, 2007
Messages
242
Location
Europe
thanks for your feedback. It's a diary style so there's lots more ready but you have to wait for the date :)

In fact I wrote it last year but I forgot to post it and then felt stupid to post a Christmas tale in February!
 

Ssaylleb

Well-Known Member
Joined
May 12, 2007
Messages
242
Location
Europe
15th December 2014

I woke up to the customary knock at the door and in pure Pavlovian fashion my mouth started to drool. The maid brought in the tray of breakfast and left it on my bedside table before leaving the room. Over the month I had spent here at the Alastaires I had settled into a fairly fixed routine.

After the first couple of nights I quickly understood a few facts. Firstly the Alastaires ate, drank and partied like university students, with a constant flow of visitors and parties. Secondly, although I could drink along with them, I didn’t recover as quickly in the morning. Third: when Henry was at his work, he was completely and totally absorbed, I couldn’t get a word in.

As a result my days soon took on the following routine. Since I slept in, the maids brought me breakfast in my room. At first the maids used to leave it at my table across the room, but I would eat it in my bed. After finding the demolished tray on the bedside table, the maids started to leave the breakfast there for me, saving me the hassle of getting out of bed. Moreover there seemed to be a point being made by the kitchen staff. When I finished all I had been served, there was more the next day, which I couldn’t finish. Within a couple of days though my stomach had stretched enough so that I could finish off the larger serving. So the next day the serving was even larger until I could finish that and it got bigger still. This was a full English breakfast, a complete fry-up that by now would probably have fed three hungry people.

I would spend the morning in my suite, sitting at the desk overlooking the vast gardens, writing up notes from my discussions with Henry and Maria, and listing further points to chat about. I’d rub my overstuffed gut and belch occasionally, providing some much needed relief. At around twelve I’d shower and get ready for lunch. Encouraged and accompanied by my hosts I’d stuff myself silly before stumbling back to my bed, where I’d lie stroking my bloated belly until I passed out.

Afternoons and evenings were my chance to glean material for my book, and this was a pleasure as both Henry and Maria were great at recounting stories, his various muses that changed over time, as did his forms of expression. Starting off with oil colours, Henry had experimented with various media before striking gold with metal sculptures. Recently he had been drawn back to painting and was enjoying himself immensely.

Evenings were then another feast, sometimes alone, many times they hosted dinner parties where we somehow managed to consume even more food and drink than usual. On the couple of clear, sunny days we ventured out for a walk, but any health benefits we may have enjoyed were quickly buried under pies and pints of stout at the local pub, where Henry was warmly greeted by all as the local boy turned celebrity.

Our bodies had all suffered from the incessant onslaught of food and booze. Maria’s body, always sexily curvy was now pleasingly plump all over with a soft fat belly, wide arse and hips and pendulous breasts. Her body stretched out her dresses in a way that made my heart race. My weight gain had gone almost entirely to my belly and for the last week or so I had been forced to borrow Henry’s clothes as mine simply did not fit anymore. The artist himself had also added some padding and I knew Maria had ordered some larger clothes for him too.

One afternoon they invited me to join them in the hot tub. A conservatory looked out over the garden and rolling hills beyond, a beautiful landscape. Although we had all been gaining together, I was embarrassed to realise that the swimming trunks I had brought with me, tight boxer-style shorts were just too small. Blushing red I saw my reflection in a polished window, flab hanging out everywhere. Before I had time to leave and pretend I had a headache they walked in. Henry looked even less comfortable than me, his fat belly hanging over the waistband of what looked like underwear.
“He couldn’t get into any of his swimming trunks!” exclaimed Maria with glee, slapping one of his generous love handles.
“You don’t look exactly sylph-like yourself!” retorted Henry, and I had to admit he was right. Maria had tried to squeeze into a white bikini that undoubtedly fit last summer, and more than 30 lbs ago. Now it struggled to protect her decency and showed just how beautifully plump she was with soft delectable fat bulging out.
Maria patted my belly as she passed, “You look good Paul, I’m so glad to see you enjoy being here!”
I had to almost run into the pool to hide my erection.

The lovely couple were now due to set off for Spain to spend the Christmas period with her side of the family, and in Spain celebrations went on until 6th January. On their return I would again join them at the mansion for a few weeks to continue our work. Maria confided in me that Henry was extremely generous with her family. To help them out during the financial crisis he was now paying off or helping with no less than four home loans, and supporting over fourteen people in their day-to-day living.

“Do you know he never even told me? I found out from my sisters.” Maria related, her eyes filled with love for her man. “As a result I know they will treat us like royalty when we are there, they have already asked what we want to do and nothing is too big to ask for. Of course we don’t ask for anything, I just want to spend some time with family, catch up with everyone. We all grow old too quickly” she added with a hint of sadness.

“They will all laugh at this, I know that” she said, patting her belly. “All the women on my side are… larger, and I had so far managed to watch what I eat and exercise a little to, well, not keep slim really, but at least gain only very slowly. The press you know, they are savage. But this last year since we stopped travelling and settled back here we have both just enjoyed eating too much. And so my family will love to see that the skinniest one is now also fat.”

I almost passed out at the thought of a score of women, as pretty and vivacious as Maria, and all of them even plumper than her. I awkwardly hid my erection as we chatted on.

I returned home that day, feeling strange to drive my car again and be back in my apartment which now felt cramped and stifling after the cavernous rooms of the Alastaire mansion. I spotted my bathroom scales half buried under a towel and ignored it. However as the day passed I found myself wondering just how much I had gained and with my heart in my mouth I stripped off and stepped onto the little glass of horrors. I had left here a month earlier at 196 lbs and had pretty much eaten non-stop so I figured on at least a 10 lb gain. The digital numbers wavered too fast to read then settled at 218.

I gasped in shock and stepped off slowly. I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror. Just two months earlier, when I stopped working for the paper I had weighed an untoned but relatively slim 180 lbs, now I had added 38 pounds of pure lard to that, and it showed. Even naked my belly hung out in front like a sack of dough, pale soft and wobbly. Turning around I could see the creases of fat ran right round to my back, highlighting my love-handles, two meaty rolls a good few inches thick. A pair of man boobs pooched out where most men had pecs. I hadn’t just run to fat, I had positively sprinted.

“Right fatass, the pigging out stops here! You’re still only 34 years old, and way too fat!” I scolded my reflection out loud, still only half-believing that the fat man looking back at me was really me.
 
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Ssaylleb

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May 12, 2007
Messages
242
Location
Europe
Is anyone reading this? any feedback? thanks, and have a great holiday season all!


20th December 2014

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions”

The same could be applied to myself of late. Even when faced with the consequences of my largesse, I had no fanciful notions of dieting or running back to my 180 lbs, but I did genuinely plan to eat more moderately, especially without the gorgeous feedee Maria constantly leading me to gorge like a pig at every meal.

In reality however, my appetite had grown so much that I couldn’t reduce my portions just like that. I found myself eating normal sized portions… OK quite large portions at mealtimes, but then still feeling empty I would guzzle down everything and anything in sight. My freezer, stocked for a good 2 weeks was emptied within days, all to feed my insatiable hunger.

One evening I was laying about in the only clothes that fit comfortably, a pair of boxers when I realised that I had absolutely nothing to eat. I called the pizza place and asked for a delivery. Still trying to reduce my gluttony, I played the good boy and only ordered a meat lovers.
“Anything else with that sir?” Oh sweet Lord, the temptation. But I resisted.
“No thanks, that will be all.”
“Oh. The thing is the pizza is £14.85 and if you spend £15 then you get an apple pie for free.”
With that attack, my willpower caved in.
“Ok then, I’ll have a few chicken pieces as well.”
“3 pieces, 5 or 9?”
My willpower fluttered under my hunger but I remained resolute. “Uh… 3 please.”
“OK... umm to get 5 pieces is only 50 pence more, do you still want only 3?”
“5!” I almost shouted.
“OK… oh cool, there’s an offer on, for the price of 5 you’ll get 9… So… OK… do you want cream with the pie sir?”
No! squeaked my willpower.
“Of course, apple pie always needs cream!” I replied.

As I replaced the phone in its cradle my hand brushed against my belly. I grabbed it with both hands and shook it vigorously. “Looks like the world wants you stay.. and get bigger!” I groused, as though I had been forced to add all the extra food I had just ordered.

When I look back over what happened next, for the life of me I can’t think why I didn’t wear a T-shirt, or my dressing gown, knowing that someone was coming to the door. Maybe sheer laziness? Total indifference at revealing my flabby body, now that I was too fat to hide it? At any rate, the doorbell rang and I opened to find not the usual guy but the beautiful Samantha, looking as hot as ever clad in her tight black leathers.

Our jaws dropped simultaneously, me in shock at having this babe see what I had done to my body, and she was clearly in disgust at how I had ballooned. I gathered my wits first and tried to end it quickly, making a grab for the boxes and trying to hand her the notes in my hand.

“Not so fast buster!” she commanded and pushed my hands away. Pushing past me she broke the unspoken, international rule of pizza delivery courtesy and entered my apartment. She kicked the door shut behind her.
“What on earth have you been eating, to get so gloriously fat?” she asked in amazement.
“Uh… everything?” I squeaked.
She laughed. “Oh I can believe that, boy have you even stopped eating to sleep?” she continued. “Look at this pork belly!” and to my disbelief her soft hands slithered over my round gut and she hefted it, then let it drop and did it again. The odd thing was she seemed to be more amazed than disgusted.

“No wonder you’re getting so fat if you eat like this every day!” she scolded. “What have you ordered today, let’s see? A deep pan meat lovers, that’s already a glutton’s choice, but you also added chicken… nine pieces I see, no risk of you going hungry. And what’s this? A whole apple pie with cream! You go porky! Oink oink!”

Part of me wondered why I didn’t kick out this woman, in my apartment uninvited and teasing me about my weight gain. The other part acknowledged that an extremely sexy lady was in my apartment with her hands on my body, not a usual circumstance.

“Oh god, I can’t wait to see you eat it all up” she ended with a gasp.
“I… I wasn’t going to eat it all at once” I argued. “All I wanted was the pizza, but then they had this offer, and…” I drifted off lamely, seeing her roll her eyes at me.
“Sure they just forced you to order half the menu, right?” she scorned “I bet you can eat it all up!”
“Oh I know I can, that’s the problem, where do you think this gut came from?” I replied morosely, patting my belly.

“Well today’s your lucky day mister. You were my last delivery so I’m done for the night, and if you eat up I’ll give you a reward. Let’s start with the pizza” she continued, taking her jacket off to reveal a loose black top, some kind of sexy silky material that showed she had large round breasts and a slim waist.

Samantha pushed me down to the sofa and opened the pizza box, feeding me a slice. I immediately had an erection but she seemed not to, or pretended not to notice. After the first slice, she fed me a chicken piece, then another slice of pizza. I noticed she took a bite or two herself along the way, but I didn’t complain.

She continued to feed me one bite at a time, but turned so that she leaned against me, her breasts pushing against my shoulder, and her hand slipped to caress my belly. She was breathing harder.
Between bites I managed to ask her: “so do you often feed your customers”
“No, this is a first.”
“Why? what do you like about this? you’re clearly getting turned on as you stuff me,”
“Oh did you notice? Good I can stop pretending” she said and sliding to the floor she knelt between my knees and literally made love to my belly. It was a feeling I’d never had before, as I gorged on the fast food she alternately kissed, sucked and nibbled at my belly, digging her tongue deep into my navel. Her hands wandered over my bloated belly, now they rubbed me tenderly, then she lifted my gut and lightly scratched my lower belly, making me harder than ever, both of us gasping. The chicken finished and as she fed me the last bite of pizza she took my cock into her mouth and sucked me out.

I lay back breathless, Samantha stood up slowly and made me lie down, stretched out on the sofa, then she lay near me. Stuffed and sated, both with food and with sex I was happy to lie back and enjoy the moment. Sam lay across me, her hand still caressing my belly. “Wow you certainly can eat huh?” she smiled at me. I immediately felt embarrassed and tried to push her away and sit up.

“My god I don’t know what you must think of me… you’ve seen how I ballooned in the last month or two, and now let you stuff me like a turkey for Christmas. I’m trying to eat less but I just can’t” seem to manage, I just get fatter and fatter like a big slob of shit!”
“Oh shush” she whispered, “I see a man who has discovered his love for food and is following it with a passion. A man who has eaten his way to get a big fat sexy body.”
“Really?” I asked coldly. “Me. This. Sexy?”
“Very sexy”
“Not sexy. Fat. Disgusting. Flabby. Overweight. In fact I’m probably obese by now.”
“Shhhhh I won’t let you speak like that about yourself. You’re gorgeous and I want to feed you up, make this belly REALLY big.”
 

Ssaylleb

Well-Known Member
Joined
May 12, 2007
Messages
242
Location
Europe
15th January 2014

“85 pounds! Underweight for any one adult, but in this case it’s the total fat added by four adults in a month” Maria smiled prettily.

The last month had gone by in a blur. Samantha had not left my apartment since that wonderful evening and had encouraged me to over-eat so much that I felt bloated every minute of every day. On the 6th January I had the newspaper Christmas staff party. I didn’t want to go - as much as I enjoyed eating to excess and having the foxy Samantha all over my flab, I was embarrassed at how much I had gained so quickly.

“But I like parties” pouted Sam.
“Oh...you want to join?” I asked, surprised.”It’s a boring office party, not some club you know.”
“But we never go out, we just stay in here.”
“Yeah but..” I groused, unsure how to word it.. “There’s all this” I said finally, patting my large gut.
“Yes, and the way you eat, it’ only going to get bigger! These people will see you anyway, around town. Or when you’re on TV as a famous author.”
“Hmm I guess.”
“Or is it that you don’t want me to go with you?”
And that pretty much ended the discussion.
I wanted to buy a larger suit but the delicious Samantha helped me squeeze into a tight outfit that had been loose only weeks earlier, just before Christmas. In green trousers with a beige shirt and brown sports jacket (blazer) I looked just like one of Santa’s elves who had hit the cookie jar too hard.

At the party people were equally stunned by my weight gain and by the fact that my date was the hottest chick by a considerable margin. Pamela, a girl I had tried to chat up a year ago with no success came over. She dug a finger deep into my belly “What have you been eating Paul, you’ve positively blown up! That’s one bullet I dodged!” She looked at Sam. “She won’t hang around long if you get much fatter you know!”.
“Luckily for Paul, he found someone who loves him for himself, not anything superficial.” Sam turned to me and patted my belly, “time to hit the buffet dear”. My belly growled in response. Although I had promised myself I wouldn’t make a pig of myself, Sam just sat me on a chair along a wall, and kept running back with more heaped plates from the buffet, taking fair few helpings herself too. I know I could have, should have stopped eating, but it felt so naughty and erotic to be stuffed to the gills in front of such a judgemental group of people.

My belly expanded out, stretching my shirt beyond belief. Sam had to help me stand up as my overstuffed belly unbalanced me, and I had to lean on her to leave, my gut tugging me forward. After I slid into the car passenger seat, too bloated to move, Sam ripped my shirt off and made violent love to my belly right there in the car park.

When I called Maria to arrange the next month at them, I felt I had to explain that I would be carrying an extra 20 pounds.

“So um, you’ll see a bit more of me. I haven’t stopped eating since I left you and I’m up 20 pounds… it will probably be 25 by the time I see you again.
Maria’s laugh rang down the phone from faraway Spain.”You’re in good company then Paul, I’m not far off that and I’m sure Henry’s ahead of you. I told you my sisters here would exploit my appetite and boy have they done a good job! But what about you, please don’t tell me you’ve spent all Christmas in writing up about Henry.”

“Uh, actually I met someone… a girl I know. We kind of got together before Christmas and she’s been feeding me ever since!”
“Oh I have to meet her, she sounds delightful!”
“Uh, I’m not sure how things are gonna work out…” I wasn’t sure how to end the sentence.
“What’s up Paul? Tell me now. You found a girl who likes you, what’s the problem?”
“OK” I confessed, “things have moved so fast it’s crazy. She is, or was a delivery girl at the pizza place but just didn’t leave here so she got fired. She’s kind of been here since, just stuffing me, while I tried to do some writing.”
“Hmmm… do you actually like her, do you have anything in common besides your gluttony?”
“Oh yes, we talk for ages. She’s lived a lot you know. not some dumbass.”
“And you’d like to stay with her?”
“Yes, I guess I’d like to see where this could go, but with me there with you for a month… I don’t know.”
“Then get her along silly,”
“Really?” I perked up. “I can ask her to visit sometimes?”
“No, silly. Ask her to join you here for the full month. She sounds like fun.”

So it was that today Sam and I arrived here at the mansion again and exchanged Christmas stories with our hosts. Maria had not been exaggerating. She had gained 20 lbs and looked plumper and softer. Her belly was now a defined round ball that stuck out in front when she stood and settled onto her lap when she sat. Also when she sat, her butt and hips had widened,oozing out on either side like a soft cushion.

Henry had clearly done nothing but eat from morning till night every day as he was up 30 lbs and closer to 300 lbs than 250. Like me all of it went to his big fat gut which now blew out over his pants, stretching his shirt and sat like a beach ball on his lap, going halfway to his knees. I was between them, having packed on 25 lbs and within close reach of 250 lbs. Maria turned to Samantha.
“And did you gain at all since moving in with Paul?”

I didn’t think she had and was already shaking my head when she blushed red and blurted out “actually I’ve gained 10 pounds! I’ve never gained an ounce but somehow while feeding Paul I guess I’ve been eating more myself!”
“Really?” asked Maria, the feeder inside her clicking on.
It was only then I realised that indeed my babe’s ass was a bit plusher than it had been, a light roll of flab formed above her pants. I liked what I saw.
 

otherland78

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oh and i like very much what i read ;-)

lovely and liked this idea with travelling with her to another place :) maybe he wille at even more ....and it´s delightful how this little pizza girl gaines afew, too^^
 

Biglover

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Great story. I do hope Samantha gains weight too. Possibly a lot, and very quickly.
 

billedmeup

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Awesome story. I loved it. Mutual gaining is my kind of story. Keep going, I am looking forward to Samantha plumping up.
 

Ssaylleb

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Sorry for a very short addition. I have more planed but real life's getting in the way of my fat fictional friends :)





8th February 2014

Being here is amazing, though things have changed slightly. I am working more closely with Henry, writing lots and the book is shaping up very well. The Alastaire’s seem to be entertaining less than before, perhaps it’s normal after the Christmas cycle of parties.

My beautiful Samantha has revealed a new side to her. At my place she had enjoyed feeding me, though she clearly also found time to eat herself, having gained the ten pounds she admitted to. Now however I realised that I had missed the signs that was a feedee too, as Maria devoted her days to keeping my blonde satisfied, which meant completely stuffed.

Henry and I were certainly not dieting, but our work kept us from indulging as we had been before, and in our absence, Samantha bore the full brunt of Maria’s feederism. Our first evening back was celebrated with a lavish dinner at which we all indulged to excess. As I guided a rather drunk Samantha back to our room I noticed the added weight on her frame. At my apartment she had tended to hang around in my clothes, when she even bothered to wear any. Here I saw her in a dress for the first time since my staff party and her tight panties gave the hint of soft love handles, flesh gently swelling over the underwear. By the time we got to our suites I was hard and lost no time in fumbling at her dress zip. I tugged the dress down and slipped my hands from behind round her belly, which felt sensually warm and full, hard to the touch with a soft layer on top. “Ohmygod I’m so fat” she gasped looking out our profiles reflected in the mirror.
I couldn’t help but laugh, as my own belly hung out like a beach ball. “This is fat!” I told her. “You’re just full from dinner.”

“I can see how you got so fat!” she replied. “The food here is divine, and Maria kept giving me more.”
I pushed her gently to the bed so that she sat on it and I knelt before her. Her belly jutted out onto her lap and I caressed it with both hands.
“This is already huge now because I’m stuffed, imagine it’s this size when I’m still empty” wondered Samantha aloud.
“I can’t lie to you babe. If you stay here you’re not going to lose weight, but you should know that I find your softening curves very alluring.”
“What softening?” asked Samantha indignantly, drunk.
“This” I said, softly caressing her hips. “These are already softer then in December, fuller, sexier, more womanly. These” I said, nuzzling her thighs.

“What should I do?”asked Samantha looking at me seriously. “I’ve worked hard for my body but I love eating.”

Since that evening, Samantha has always sported the bloated belly look, allowing Maria to stuff her comatose. So much so that even in the morning her tummy is still oversized from dinner. Sitting down all day, her bum and hips have widened, occupying more space on the plush sofa. I adore her expanding body and no matter how tired, stuffed or drunk we are, every night we have fabulous sex, relishing one anothers fat bodies.
 

otherland78

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oh i raly liked that idea with the pizzadelivery and the accidential gaining of samantha ,-9

and all your deliscious decriptions of swelling curves and slapping lovehandles hmmm...^^
 

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