Lardibutts
Aged Member
SSBBW, SSBHM, Extreme Eating, ~XWG - A full - very full - Professor takes leave to study weight gain diets.
Shipboard Romances
a devoted couple
At her current academic fighting weight of around 420 pounds Amelia Grossenbeine looked every inch a Full Professor and she was proud of the fact. Her business card announced her formal academic title:
Professor Grossenbeine was proud, too, of her research track record in documenting Weight Gain Practices. She’d worked tirelessly to build it – even at home within her marriage, for her darling husband, Randy, at 446 pounds, weighed in even heavier than the always very Full Professor.
But, in all honesty, any spirit of academic enquiry that may have originally accompanied the Professor’s work in reshaping her husband had long been forgotten as the two lovers lost themselves in the sensual enjoyment of their soft swelling bodies.
For both Amelia and Randy had long ago been consumed by raw lust.
Recently, with his hugely expanded belly, Randy had been finding it increasingly difficult to walk. Admiring Randy’s manly bay window drooping half way down towards his knees, Amelia was quite unable to resist running her hands around it, lovingly exploring how his soft, fat belly rings shook during his majestic progress.
Despite her lighter weight, the Professor was half a head taller than her husband. But Randy only had eyes for the Full Professor’s truly gigantic bottom. Riding high and proud, Amelia’s bottom was breathtaking. Randy loved the way it completely dominated her balloon-like body.
With her severe short-clipped hair, Amelia had the face of a prim chapel-goer who showed not one ounce of responsibility for all the enormous rolls of fat she’d stashed on below. Randy was completely besotted by the way she flaunted such an astonishing arse, while at the self same time masking her sensuality by feigning a detached academic persona under that prim hairdo.
Amelia was able to walk more easily than Randy. Flamboyantly cranking her amazing arse into action, the momentum she’d generate would launch all her fat underway for several steps. Her beach ball buttocks continued bucking violently as her waddling progressed, the blubber leaping about, dancing and quivering.
Randy seemed to be permanently aroused by the fluidity of Amelia’s spectacular rear end. Trying to maintain headway with his penis hard, pulsating and battling for space up against his belly, was neither easy nor comfortable for him.
But … oof! It was so exciting!
Letting his hand lightly ride on her arse shelf, savouring the action, he never ceased to marvel at the way each great spherical wobbly globe of buttock was vastly bigger than Amelia’s tiny head.
If she carried her brains in her bum, Randy would quip in her ear, wow!
She’d outsmart Einstein. Causing Amelia to chuckle, he might enjoy prolonging her pleasure by tickling in and around the impossibly soft wobbling crevice between her giant buttocks.
They were well known for being a devoted couple, not ashamed of displaying their passion for one another in public. And Amelia would always gather up her two boys (Benji, eight and Kurt, six) - her “chubby cupids” as she termed them – and engulf them within their mutual admiration hug-ins.
Amelia’s brains, wherever they might be located, had been the initial turn on for Randy, and Amelia reciprocated by being the biggest fan of Randy’s sharp sense of humour.
Now that Amelia’s ministrations had fattened him up to where she wanted (not very far away from finding it difficult to simply shuffle about, let alone perform normal daily routines), Randy joked at the way his ever-growing gut belied his occupation as a professional Loss Adjuster.
For Randy had always been an astute judge of character. He had a proven ability to sniff out the dodgy from the honest insurance claims. He had done so well he had started his own independent consultancy. Taking advantage of modern communications – computers, the net and email - his business was totally footloose; it could be conducted from anywhere. Which was just as well, for footloose was the very thing Randy wasn’t.
Working from home, Randy Cohen (because of her academic reputation the Professor retained her maiden name) had just succeeded in pulling off his biggest coup so far. He had exposed a fraudulent half-billion dollar scam, a claim for cleaning up a nonexistent oil spillage in the Russian arctic. This had earned him a huge sum in bounty from the insurance syndicates.
Out of the proceeds, he had brought his wife and the two young boys to live for a year aboard “La Vita Ronde”, a ship totally dedicated to facilitating a life of pleasure for people of size. The Professor’s sabbatical was long overdue and, at Randy’s suggestion, she had chosen to devote the year she’d accumulated in experiencing the ship’s practices, which were reputed to be entirely free of the usual constraints.
“La Vita Ronde”, built and registered in Genoa, was one of the world’s most luxurious ships and specialized exclusively in lavish catering for the leisure needs of fat people. After having sampled “Life in the Round”, usually during an initial cruise, patrons become addicted, unwilling to give up the life of unrestrained pleasure the ship encourages. By acquiring their own bespoke shipboard accommodation, they are able to remain permanently afloat in their paradise of fat.
Randy had reserved them a four-room, fully serviced balcony suite on one of the upper decks and Amelia had engaged an east European nanny/tutor for her two “chubby cupids”. Now the boys were having a ball escaping from her clutches to be thoroughly spoiled by the ship’s complement of notoriously child friendly Italians.
Amelia herself was of bulky German stock, her family all being Wisconsin dairy farmers, but with Randy’s nudging, a research project had taken shape in her mind...
The all round life study
They’d had the idea it would be enjoyable to explore as a hypothesis the widespread belief that Mediterranean-based diets were more efficacious than others in supporting weight gain. She could do this by studying the weight/health characteristics of the permanent residents of “La Vita Ronde”.
She liked the way the project was hardly demanding of physical exertion; the most it required was constant attendance at all the ship’s eateries.
The Professor would have to do this in any case as, with her solid German upbringing, she was determined to give her two boys the best start in life. So, in role as severe chapel-faced mum, she would urge her menfolk on at the table – egging them on to go at it harder, managing always to coax them to eat just that little bit extra each time.
Dinner on the ship, where the food was Italian and the portions gigantic, might last a good three hours. It was like being at the theatre with the Italian waiters performing a polished ballet around the tables. They would balance more and more plates in impossible combinations, pour aqua minerale from great heights without splashing a drop on the table or spin a succession of glittering glasses high into the air as they served wine with the food. As they burst back through into the kitchens, piled high with stacks of cleared away dishes, they could be heard off stage breaking into full blooded tenor arias: 'Nessun Dorma' most probably or perhaps ‘E lucevan le stelle’ in the style of Pavarotti.
The ship was perennially popular with Americans and they would roll up early for dinner from five thirty onwards. Still in their beachwear, they treated dining as an informal fun event. Laughing and joshing one another as they arrived, they would call across the tables about their appetites, perhaps recommending the evening’s specials, then later on challenging or chiding one another about bursting out their buttons and seams.
By contrast, dinner was a formal seriously heavyweight business for the Europeans on board – mainly Italians and Germans, but also Scandinavians and Russians. They preferred to dress up to eat and would arrive as a second wave sometime after eight.
Much later, any time after ten, the Hispanics made a dignified entry, their heavy paunches leading the way, having already thoroughly lined their stomachs with early evening tapas in the ship’s many bars and lounges.
The Professor’s research project began with observation: noting who was eating what and scrutinizing the nature of the food being consumed.
At some stage in the family’s dining the boys would disappear – perhaps off with the waiters to be spoiled with special treats somewhere out in the great kitchens.
This left Amelia alone with Randy for maybe a further hour or so, encouraging him to go just that extra little half mile further for her. She was able to continue with her people-watching during these tete a tetes, discussing with Randy interesting points that had caught their attention.
Finally, while she slipped away to say goodnight to her boys, she would leave Randy alone at table. He would continue his surveillance while stoking around those last few corners. In this way Randy might remain at post for more than six hours, from five thirty until around midnight, faithfully maintaining his vigil for his wife’s researches. Always informally dressed with a colourful Hawaiian shirt covering the upper rings of his vast belly, but the lowest, softest swags of fat just hanging out over his Bermudas, he would eat steadily. By 10:30 the shirt would be tight; around 11pm his buttons were popping, and by going home time he’d blasted out - the shirt in shreds, the rolls of his belly billowing out and sagging down past his knees.
Amelia would eventually return to the now near soporific Randy and, with help of a couple of hefty waiters, ease him across into one of the ship’s wheelchairs for the short trip home.
to be continued
The Sabbatical Year
by Lardibutts
by Lardibutts
Shipboard Romances
a devoted couple
At her current academic fighting weight of around 420 pounds Amelia Grossenbeine looked every inch a Full Professor and she was proud of the fact. Her business card announced her formal academic title:
Amelia Grossenbeine Ph.D., M.Phil., B.Sc., AWGA
Wilson Barbers Professor of Weight Gain Practices
The Bessy Bubbles Institute of Weight Gain Management (IWGM)
Indiana South Central University (ISCU),
Kempton, USA.
Wilson Barbers Professor of Weight Gain Practices
The Bessy Bubbles Institute of Weight Gain Management (IWGM)
Indiana South Central University (ISCU),
Kempton, USA.
Professor Grossenbeine was proud, too, of her research track record in documenting Weight Gain Practices. She’d worked tirelessly to build it – even at home within her marriage, for her darling husband, Randy, at 446 pounds, weighed in even heavier than the always very Full Professor.
But, in all honesty, any spirit of academic enquiry that may have originally accompanied the Professor’s work in reshaping her husband had long been forgotten as the two lovers lost themselves in the sensual enjoyment of their soft swelling bodies.
For both Amelia and Randy had long ago been consumed by raw lust.
Recently, with his hugely expanded belly, Randy had been finding it increasingly difficult to walk. Admiring Randy’s manly bay window drooping half way down towards his knees, Amelia was quite unable to resist running her hands around it, lovingly exploring how his soft, fat belly rings shook during his majestic progress.
Despite her lighter weight, the Professor was half a head taller than her husband. But Randy only had eyes for the Full Professor’s truly gigantic bottom. Riding high and proud, Amelia’s bottom was breathtaking. Randy loved the way it completely dominated her balloon-like body.
With her severe short-clipped hair, Amelia had the face of a prim chapel-goer who showed not one ounce of responsibility for all the enormous rolls of fat she’d stashed on below. Randy was completely besotted by the way she flaunted such an astonishing arse, while at the self same time masking her sensuality by feigning a detached academic persona under that prim hairdo.
Amelia was able to walk more easily than Randy. Flamboyantly cranking her amazing arse into action, the momentum she’d generate would launch all her fat underway for several steps. Her beach ball buttocks continued bucking violently as her waddling progressed, the blubber leaping about, dancing and quivering.
Randy seemed to be permanently aroused by the fluidity of Amelia’s spectacular rear end. Trying to maintain headway with his penis hard, pulsating and battling for space up against his belly, was neither easy nor comfortable for him.
But … oof! It was so exciting!
Letting his hand lightly ride on her arse shelf, savouring the action, he never ceased to marvel at the way each great spherical wobbly globe of buttock was vastly bigger than Amelia’s tiny head.
If she carried her brains in her bum, Randy would quip in her ear, wow!
She’d outsmart Einstein. Causing Amelia to chuckle, he might enjoy prolonging her pleasure by tickling in and around the impossibly soft wobbling crevice between her giant buttocks.
They were well known for being a devoted couple, not ashamed of displaying their passion for one another in public. And Amelia would always gather up her two boys (Benji, eight and Kurt, six) - her “chubby cupids” as she termed them – and engulf them within their mutual admiration hug-ins.
Amelia’s brains, wherever they might be located, had been the initial turn on for Randy, and Amelia reciprocated by being the biggest fan of Randy’s sharp sense of humour.
Now that Amelia’s ministrations had fattened him up to where she wanted (not very far away from finding it difficult to simply shuffle about, let alone perform normal daily routines), Randy joked at the way his ever-growing gut belied his occupation as a professional Loss Adjuster.
For Randy had always been an astute judge of character. He had a proven ability to sniff out the dodgy from the honest insurance claims. He had done so well he had started his own independent consultancy. Taking advantage of modern communications – computers, the net and email - his business was totally footloose; it could be conducted from anywhere. Which was just as well, for footloose was the very thing Randy wasn’t.
Working from home, Randy Cohen (because of her academic reputation the Professor retained her maiden name) had just succeeded in pulling off his biggest coup so far. He had exposed a fraudulent half-billion dollar scam, a claim for cleaning up a nonexistent oil spillage in the Russian arctic. This had earned him a huge sum in bounty from the insurance syndicates.
Out of the proceeds, he had brought his wife and the two young boys to live for a year aboard “La Vita Ronde”, a ship totally dedicated to facilitating a life of pleasure for people of size. The Professor’s sabbatical was long overdue and, at Randy’s suggestion, she had chosen to devote the year she’d accumulated in experiencing the ship’s practices, which were reputed to be entirely free of the usual constraints.
“La Vita Ronde”, built and registered in Genoa, was one of the world’s most luxurious ships and specialized exclusively in lavish catering for the leisure needs of fat people. After having sampled “Life in the Round”, usually during an initial cruise, patrons become addicted, unwilling to give up the life of unrestrained pleasure the ship encourages. By acquiring their own bespoke shipboard accommodation, they are able to remain permanently afloat in their paradise of fat.
Randy had reserved them a four-room, fully serviced balcony suite on one of the upper decks and Amelia had engaged an east European nanny/tutor for her two “chubby cupids”. Now the boys were having a ball escaping from her clutches to be thoroughly spoiled by the ship’s complement of notoriously child friendly Italians.
Amelia herself was of bulky German stock, her family all being Wisconsin dairy farmers, but with Randy’s nudging, a research project had taken shape in her mind...
The all round life study
They’d had the idea it would be enjoyable to explore as a hypothesis the widespread belief that Mediterranean-based diets were more efficacious than others in supporting weight gain. She could do this by studying the weight/health characteristics of the permanent residents of “La Vita Ronde”.
She liked the way the project was hardly demanding of physical exertion; the most it required was constant attendance at all the ship’s eateries.
The Professor would have to do this in any case as, with her solid German upbringing, she was determined to give her two boys the best start in life. So, in role as severe chapel-faced mum, she would urge her menfolk on at the table – egging them on to go at it harder, managing always to coax them to eat just that little bit extra each time.
Dinner on the ship, where the food was Italian and the portions gigantic, might last a good three hours. It was like being at the theatre with the Italian waiters performing a polished ballet around the tables. They would balance more and more plates in impossible combinations, pour aqua minerale from great heights without splashing a drop on the table or spin a succession of glittering glasses high into the air as they served wine with the food. As they burst back through into the kitchens, piled high with stacks of cleared away dishes, they could be heard off stage breaking into full blooded tenor arias: 'Nessun Dorma' most probably or perhaps ‘E lucevan le stelle’ in the style of Pavarotti.
The ship was perennially popular with Americans and they would roll up early for dinner from five thirty onwards. Still in their beachwear, they treated dining as an informal fun event. Laughing and joshing one another as they arrived, they would call across the tables about their appetites, perhaps recommending the evening’s specials, then later on challenging or chiding one another about bursting out their buttons and seams.
By contrast, dinner was a formal seriously heavyweight business for the Europeans on board – mainly Italians and Germans, but also Scandinavians and Russians. They preferred to dress up to eat and would arrive as a second wave sometime after eight.
Much later, any time after ten, the Hispanics made a dignified entry, their heavy paunches leading the way, having already thoroughly lined their stomachs with early evening tapas in the ship’s many bars and lounges.
The Professor’s research project began with observation: noting who was eating what and scrutinizing the nature of the food being consumed.
At some stage in the family’s dining the boys would disappear – perhaps off with the waiters to be spoiled with special treats somewhere out in the great kitchens.
This left Amelia alone with Randy for maybe a further hour or so, encouraging him to go just that extra little half mile further for her. She was able to continue with her people-watching during these tete a tetes, discussing with Randy interesting points that had caught their attention.
Finally, while she slipped away to say goodnight to her boys, she would leave Randy alone at table. He would continue his surveillance while stoking around those last few corners. In this way Randy might remain at post for more than six hours, from five thirty until around midnight, faithfully maintaining his vigil for his wife’s researches. Always informally dressed with a colourful Hawaiian shirt covering the upper rings of his vast belly, but the lowest, softest swags of fat just hanging out over his Bermudas, he would eat steadily. By 10:30 the shirt would be tight; around 11pm his buttons were popping, and by going home time he’d blasted out - the shirt in shreds, the rolls of his belly billowing out and sagging down past his knees.
Amelia would eventually return to the now near soporific Randy and, with help of a couple of hefty waiters, ease him across into one of the ship’s wheelchairs for the short trip home.
to be continued
