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BBW The Matchmaker by Maltese Falcon

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Well-Known Member
Sep 13, 2007
Feedees and feeders galore in this one. Fair warning: some of the dialog and actions get pretty explicit. May not be to everyone’s liking.

The Matchmaker by Maltese Falcon

He looked across the table at his dinner companion and sized her up. 25 years old. Recent college grad-Art History, if he remembered correctly. Demure in manner and dress. The outfit she had on, indicated an old school taste... perhaps old school money? Time would tell.

No problem remembering her name either. Amber. Of the dozen or so dating profiles he’d scanned and green lighted, this was the fifth “Amber”. He chuckled to himself at the lack of originality. As if reading his mind she asked instead. “So... Jay. Is that your real name, or is it short for something?”

He sighed. Might as well get it over with. “It’s short for Jason.”

She nodded and paused as she worked it out. “Oh my God. Your name is Jason…”

“…Mason. My parents had a strange sense of humor.”

Amber shrugged. “Could use your middle name. Lots of people do.”

He nodded but added. “Unlike most kids whose parents had money, I went to a regular public school. My middle name is Pettigrew. I don’t think I would have survived past 2nd grade.” They were interrupted by the waiter, who brought their meals and topped up their wine. Over dinner, they got to know each other better.

The waiter asked “Dessert?”

As she shook her head, he replied. “Bring two of the best you have, please.”

She scowled a bit and she leaned forward. “You know-I have a mouth and mind of my own. I can order my own food. Please remember that, on our next date?”

He smirked. “Next date? So...there will be a next date?”

Amber blushed a bit. “I-I hope so. I think we hit it off a bit tonight, so it’s worth pursuing.”

The waiter interrupted again, as the pieces of double chocolate cheesecake arrived. She teased her plate a bit and gave it a taste. “I probably shouldn’t, but it’s a shame to waste this.”

He cleared his throat and began. “Look, Amber…” She gulped visibly. Any statement that began like that was usually not good. He proceeded. “I like you too. Ms. Peters did a good job matching us up.”

She nodded. “Millie is amazing. I’m sensing a bit of apprehension, though. Something bothering you?”

“Not yet. But it may bother you. If we are to be a couple and move forward, I need to ask you to do something.”

She whitened a bit. “Millie said you were a gentleman. I don’t sleep around. And even if the time comes, I’m not into that kinky stuff…”

“Sorry-that’s not what I was trying to tell you. I am a gentleman-truly” He looked her over and cleared his throat. “You are a delightful young woman; but I would have a hard time being physically attracted to you.” He was staring at her chest the whole time.

She realized it and sighed. “What is it with men and boobs? So I’m a little flat-chested. Big deal. I don’t care how rich you are, I’m not getting implants…”

“No one asked you to.” He noticed that her plate was empty and he slid his uneaten dessert over. “Here. Take mine.”

“No thanks. Too many calories. Don’t want to end up like my mom.” Amber puffed out her cheeks and held her hands out in front. “She hasn’t seen her own feet in 20 years. Runs in the family. My aunt weighs nearly as much. She says it’s only a matter of time for me, too.”

He smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Amber frowned. “Come again?”

“My dear, I don’t believe in wasting time, mine or yours. Like yourself, I’m looking for a serious relationship. Someone to spend the rest of my life with, and you push all the right buttons. Except for one. I have a small confession to make. You see-I have a certain fondness for women of more...voluptuous proportions. In fact, any continued contact would have to be predicated on your gaining some weight. Do you think you would be willing to do that?”

“Mmm. I don’t know about that. I-I’ve always worked hard to stay in shape. But I guess a couple extra pounds would be okay, if my boobs get big enough to make you happy.”

He shook his head. “We aren’t talking an extra helping at Thanksgiving dinner. Muffin top, starter belly, freshman fifteen. Call it what you like. That’s not what I had in mind.”

Amber shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you meant like five pounds, now you are already talking more than fifteen!”

He nodded.

Instinctively she felt her belly, as she blanched yet again. “How much more, exactly?

“Oh...let’s say 100 pounds, to start with.”

She sipped her wine and added “To start with?”

“Sure. You were right about one thing. I admit to being kind of a boob man, so gaining a few pounds always improves the situation. But we won’t know exactly where the extra weight will go, until it’s in progress. We’ll see how you fill out and take it from there.”

“Is that all?” Amber nodded. “Your tone had me worried there for a bit. I have a confession myself. Would you like to hear it?”


“Forget what I said earlier. I grew up surrounded by women who got fatter every day. Watched them eat whenever and whatever they wanted without worrying about the after effects. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed about getting fat too. In reality, I was just worried I’d never find love, if I did. I told you earlier it was in my genes; so I was hoping to get married before it happened. Guess it’s safe to tell you that I would have gained 100 pounds with my first pregnancy, whether you liked it or not.”

First pregnancy. Kids? Rushing things a bit maybe? It’s our first date.”

“Touchy subject? Don’t look at me- you started this. Seems like we were made for each other. I want two kids and you’ll never regret it. Be warned-if I do this you may get more than you asked for, you know. How would you feel if I ended up 200 pounds more?”

He gasped. “You would do that? Really?”

“Don’t pretend that wasn’t your intent. I assume you were going to push the first hundred on me; then up the ante when it was too late.”

No answer, but his blush betrayed him.

“You sure you want a 320 pound wife waddling around the house?”

Sheepishly he added. “I never thought it would be possible. Maybe a little bigger? 400 is a nice round figure.”

She sat back and pondered a moment. “I’m only 5 feet tall. I would actually be round at that weight, come to think of it.” His blush obviated the need to reply.

“Forget the waddling part” she giggled. “I’m not sure I could even stand up at that point, but maybe that is what you really want?”

Suddenly she looked at her lap. “Oh dear. Do you know how to get red wine stains out?”

He shook his head. “No….sorry.”

“Good.” She stood and dumped the contents of her glass onto his suit. “Of course I’m not going to do what you ask! I wondered why a good-looking millionaire like you, needed a dating site to find a wife.” She leaned closer and snarled. “You are sick. Take my advice and save your money for therapy. Oh-and don’t call me again or I’ll have the cops on you.”

She stormed out, as he tried his best to clean himself. That went as well as expected...again. He muttered to himself. I’m running out of suits.

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