GeorgeB

It would be interesting to see how AOC decided that she needed more substance to get taken more seriously.

Those thighs! They are so thick!. When you go jogging, how does it feel?

254

I learned a new word today and immediately thought of Carmen: Esurient, which means a combination of hungry and greedy. She is so remarkable! Her appetite for enjoyment seems to never be filled.

Thanks for the nice comments. I have had a lot o do in the real world over the last several months. I will try to make some time to get the next couple of chapters. This does take a lot of research.

Chapter Thirty Eight We had just finished a first class feeding, or was it a stuffing? Eric had done a great job with dinner and I was impressed with my ability to eat. I had gotten so used to being full that it was as if my appestat, or whatever we have that tells us when it is time to stop eating, had been reset. I ate a ton of pasta and garlic knots, following a generous feeding on a box of pastries that six months earlier would have filled me up. I figured I had literally stretched my stomach and now had the ability to consume larger quantities of food. Eric asked me to tell him where I was on the stuffed chart and I think I freaked him out a little bit when I told him an 8 out of 10. I mean I certainly wasn’t hungry and my belly did feel like it I had swallowed several bowling balls. But I had seen a demonstration once with a professor who demonstrated the concept of filling a container. He first filled it with marbles and asked us to confirm that it was full. Then he proceeded to add sand to the container and asked again if it was full. Then he added water to what looked like a full container. I figured that while I was full of some things, it was possible that I had room for other things, although I realized that at that moment I no longer had the ability to bend in the middle. While Eric cleaned up the table and kitchen after feeding me my feast, I sat laying back on the sofa with my lap top sitting lightly on my belly. I had hooked up the camera and was playing the video watching myself eat. I was a little shocked at how big I looked and how much I was eating. Eric had joked about whether this was something I was thinking of posting and I assumed that it would be silly, since I anticipated that I would not really look that impressive compared to people like Shar. In reality, which is what a film of a fat girl stuffing herself demands, I could easily fit with the Curvage crowd. I figured I was only maybe 20 pounds short of Shar. Dressed in a sweatshirt, it was hard to tell how big my belly really was, although as I moved, I realized that the big round belly underneath made itself obvious. I looked pregnant and as I shifted around, my belly pushed out the shirt. My boobs were also bigger than I realized, but it was my face that surprised me. It was rounder than I imagined and there was a softness to my jaw-line that was new and, when I looked down, the hint of a double chin. I excused my chubby face with the idea that the camera adds 10 pounds. When my video got to the point where I lifted up my shirt, my belly looked a lot bigger than I imagined it to be. I guess when I look in the mirror, it is harder to see the full body. Moving around in front of the camera gives a better impression of the real magnitude. I decided to compare myself to Carmen and downloaded her latest video from Clips4Sale. It was called "Alternative Plan," but with the sub-title of "Mastureating." and started out with her dressed in a pair of white pants that were so tight that it looked like she had been unable to zip them up. She proceeded to eat a large bowl of pasta, followed by a container of something that looked like chicken salad, followed by another big bowl of what looked like cocoa puff cereal. It took her all of the way to the cereal before she undid the button on her pants, which revealed a red crease where the waist band was cutting into her huge belly. She clearly had transformed from someone who had simply gotten fat to being someone who had totally changed her shape and appearance. Looking at pictures of her before, you would not think that she is the same person as now. She ended that video with a vibrator working herself to orgasm. It was impressive that her belly was so big that she had to awkwardly reach around her girth to manipulate the vibrator. This connection of stuffing and being turned on was interesting. I realized, watching Carmen’s video that I, too, was flirting with this overeating thing being a sexual turn on. While I was traveling in Europe, I had enjoyed the eating part, but related primarily to my learning about making it. There had not been a sexual component, other than the obvious that eating good food was a sensual experience. Now, with Eric involved, we had crossed some line where my being fatter seemed to be a turn on for him. I appreciated that he was making it easy for me. He accepted my having come home so chubby and now was willing to experiment with this binging and stuffing. Coupled with some great sex. The fact was that our sex had never been better. Eric finished cleaning up and joined me on the couch. "What are we looking at?" he asked. I showed him the video of Carmen. "Man! She has gotten huge! And look, she is stuffed so solid there is no wobble as she moves. I bet the only time she can see her cunny now is when she watches her own videos," he commented. "How into this are you?" I asked. He seemed really enthusiastic watching this blimp pleasure herself. "Can she even have normal sex now?" I asked. "If she is laying on her back, it looks like her belly would be in the way." "But she could be on top," Eric explained. "I am not sure all guys are built to have somebody that heavy sitting on them. What do you think she weighs?" I asked. "Well, don’t forget, she is short, like 5'-3" or something. That is probably why she looks so round," he explained. "My guess is she has to be maybe something like 275 pounds." "What would you think if I got that fat?" I asked. "Chill! I am not saying I want to. I already feel huge. You look scared." "I’m not scared. I’m just trying to understand where you are at," he explained. "I want to be supportive and I think I have already made it clear that I love you whatever you weigh." "That is what you say now, but what if I get as fat as Carmen?" I asked. "You can’t know what that would be like. I think being that fat is a life changer." "If you are happy, I am happy," Eric answered. I reached across to hold his hand, but grazed across his crotch and discovered that he had a hard on. "Is that for me? Or is that for Carmen?" I asked. "Watching her masturbate is a bit erotic," he offered to explain his erection. "I think you are turned on by her body," I suggested. I said this more to see how he reacted then anything else. I swear it looked like he was blushing. And he remained silent, with his eyes fixed on Carmen. When the video ended, I asked him if he wanted to see the video of me. He said he would love to, but I could tell that I had somehow quieted him down by suggesting that he was turned on by someone as fat as Carmen. I started the video of me eating. Comparing me to Carmen, I looked normally chubby. As we were watching, Eric started to softly tickle his fingers along my belly and then moved his hand down to my crotch. I opened my legs to give him better access and he took advantage of it. I reached over to him and was glad to find that he was still hard. I think I may have been weirded out, if he were hard for Carmen, but not for me. I decided to push him a little further, but in the other direction. "So you say you wouldn’t have a problem if I got fatter. But what if this is just a momentary diversion and tomorrow my eating returns to normal? How would you feel if I decide to go on a diet tomorrow. Assuming that I am somewhere around 190 right now, I would only have to lose something like 30 pounds to no longer be overweight. If I lost just 2 pounds a week, I could be under 160 by Christmas. Eric kept watching the video and worked on my cunny. He was starting to pull my head out of my belly and into my crotch and I was starting to get warm. After what seemed like too long to respond to my question, Eric gave the politically correct answer, "Whatever you would like to do. I am fine with it. I just want you to be happy and healthy." I tried to roll over on top of him, but I was in my way. It was actually hard for me to simply roll from my back. I tried again, this time trying to push myself up with my hands, but it was a struggle. "What are you trying to do?" he asked. "Well my plan was to roll over on top you and pin you down for an honest answer, but I seem to be having some trouble," I complained. Eric laughed and said, "Here, let me help you." It is nice having a strong boyfriend. He reached over and took hold of my elbow opposite him and used that as the lever to roll me over so that I could then swing my leg across him and move my torso on top of his. At that point, I was just a lump on top of him as it almost felt like I had lost my breath from the exertion. "My God you’re heavy," he exclaimed laughing some more. "Are you sure you only weigh 190?" "I don’t know what I weigh, but I feel like I am a sea cow," I complained some more. "So now that I have you trapped under my great mass, answer my question. What is your reaction to the idea of me going on a diet to get back to normal?" "Colette, this seems like a crazy time to talk about dieting. You just finished eating an impressive dinner after a day that was focused on food after several days with eating as a primary activity, after indulging for three months in Europe. We just finished watching a video of you powering down three heaping helpings of rich pasta that could have filled at least two other people. And when I asked you how close you were to feeling full, you suggested that you still had a ways to go. Why are you asking me about dieting?" he asked. "Okay," I started. "I really appreciate that last Spring I could possibly have put on 10 or even 15 pounds and you didn’t feel the need to say anything. And it is great that, when I arrived home from the Great Feed in Europe, you embraced the bloated me with love and affection. And I totally appreciate that, instead of pushing me to immediately start dieting and exercising to lose the weight, you have gone along with me on this kind of fantastic experiment with testing out my ability to consume, but I guess I am wondering why." I paused, realizing that I hadn’t really asked him the direct question that was lurking in the back of my mind. "How do you really feel about all of this." I said gesturing with my hands to my body. Still no answer. I continued, "It is no secret that the standard male wants a slim, trim woman, which I used to be, and I could totally understand it, if you are humoring me for the moment, fully expecting me to get over this silliness and get my act together. The fat girlfriend is a joke on a sitcom. Don’t get me wrong. You have been great, but I guess I am wondering how you can be so accepting of this. I am not expecting you to be like my sister’s boyfriend, because your not a jerk, but I guess I am a little surprised that you have been able to embrace this so smoothly. I think most guys would be worried about how I looked on their arm, as if my fatness was a reflection on them." Still no answer. I kept going, "If you were making the decision on my next move, what would it be? I guess I am asking you to be honest with me about your feelings. What I think is throwing me off is that our sex has always been great, but it has also never been better than it has been the last several days. Doesn’t that seem a bit interesting to you?" "So what are my choices for next moves to choose from?" Eric asked. "And are you really sure that you want to suggest that a woman’s weight should be something that depends on her boyfriend’s preferences? That sounds like dangerous territory." "But it is the real world," I countered. "Yeah, great. You love me no matter what. I appreciate that. But how are you feeling about this? I guess if you looked nervous every time I picked up a fork, I would think that is normal. I would appreciate your not pressuring me to diet, but I would understand your even being a little disappointed that I have gotten so fat. I am something like 50% bigger than the woman that you fell in love with. It would be totally normal for you to have a preference for what I do next. I am asking you what it is and I am assuming it is to start losing the weight?" "There are three clear choices in the most generic sense," I continued, unable to stop talking. "The first one is what I would figure is the normal one. Are you hoping that after this crazy week, which is maybe some kind of free zone celebrating being together after a three month absence, things settle down, I start eating the way that I used to, exercising the way I used to, and getting back at some point to something resembling what I used to be?" "Keep going," Eric suggested. "Tell me the other two choices." I tried to ignore that being a little bit of an answer in itself, but I pressed on. "So, the second option: I accept that I have gotten fat, buy myself a new wardrobe that accommodates my chubby body and realize that this is the new me, making you the great looking stud with the fat girl friend, with most of our friends feeling sorry for you." "I suspect that does not include Michael," Eric commented. "He seemed to be enjoying your roundness a bit too much." He paused for affect. "And the third?" "Well I don’t think the third is a real choice," I answered. "I guess I could keep eating like this until I blew up into such a blimp that I would have difficulty walking. I am not really interested in the Carmen option." "You know that the whole thing with Carmen is probably different than we are seeing it?" Eric explained. "Her videos emphasize how this is all happening to her, but there is someone filming her. Remember, her boyfriend was the person who started posting pictures of her after she had gained 66 pounds and he identified himself as a person who prefers fat women and has a fetish about women gaining weight. I think they are having a fun time playing with their fetish, while making a lot of money off the video sales. How much did that one that you bought cost?" "It was something like $17," I answered. "And how many people so you think purchased it?" Eric asked. "I have no idea. I didn’t even know that this world of fat admirers existed until after I got home and started doing some research," I explained. "Do you know?" I was still positioned on top of Eric, laying on him with all of my chub. As we were talking, he was kind of absent-mindedly exploring the fat rolls on my back and sides with his fingers. "I just bet it is more than we would figure," he answered. "It looks like she has made a lot of videos, which I don’t think they would be doing if it wasn’t lucrative. I wouldn’t be surprised that they are really doing this for the combination of fun and profit. She may be fat, but she is not lacking in fans. She is probably one of the most popular models in the fat fetish industry." "Well I bet keeping her appetite satisfied is expensive," I offered. "We have probably spent two weeks of our budget or food in just the last several days." I rolled off of Eric, but then realized that I didn’t have him trapped anymore and he never answered the question. "Hey, you owe me an answer," I demanded. He pretended to be trying to catch his breath. "My answer is going to be the politically correct one. I support you fully in what ever makes you happy. If you want to diet, I will help. If you want to maintain, I am fine with that. If you want to continue experimenting, I am game with that, too. I guess I do have one concern, which is that whatever you do, you do it in a healthy way," he explained. "Well, I think that means you are suggesting the diet option," I answered with a bit of a frown, surprising myself. "Not at all," Eric corrected me. "Dieting can be one of the more dangerous things a person can do. A poorly balanced diet can cause all kinds of problems and be very unhealthy. I also think that dieting the wrong way can result in a kind of yo-yo effect, causing a rebound and weight gain. Think about all of the fat cells that you have probably gained in the last several months. If you decide that you want to lose weight, you need to do it the right way, which means slowly. "So if you aren’t saying diet has to be my future. So which of the other two are you choosing?" I asked. "I guess I am wondering why you want me to choose something," he answered. "I am trying to be respectful that this is your body and my love for you should not be contingent on whether you are one weight or another." I tried to sit up, but I was quickly made aware of how bloated my belly was by the effort resulting in a loud burp. "What are the rules about respecting someone who belches when she tries to move?" I joked. "That was a great burp and fully entitled to my greatest respect," he answered. "Here. Let me help." Eric pulled my hands so that I could sit forward on the couch. The shift in position caused the food in my belly to push my gut out and onto my lap. I could feel how the skin on my belly was stretched by the bloat. But the shock was that I still felt like I could eat. "Help me stand up," I asked. Eric pulled my hands again and I got to my feet. The distribution of weight made me feel unsteady for a moment. I could really feel my belly hanging out in front of my body. I tried to twist around a bit to stretch the muscles that were carrying this load, but I was feeling pretty stuffed. "You know, one definition of a balanced diet could be a cupcake in each hand," Eric joked. Eric lifted my sweatshirt up and placed himself against me, pushing lightly against me as he used my love handles for the job they were designed to do, pulling my body in to him, which felt good. I could tell that his pants were causing him some discomfort with his hard on and he adjusted himself. "I think we will be attending to that soon," I promised. But still I continued, "Back to the question, please. Forget being politically correct. I think we understand that there is something about my big chubby body that is turning you on. I don’t really understand it, but it seems evident," As I said this, I stroked his cock on the outside of his pants. "I want you to tell me honestly how you are feeling about my body. If it were up to you, what would be the next step?" "Well, first, you better stop rubbing me before something happens sooner than I want it to," he answered. "I love your body and I will admit that I am truly enjoying the ripeness and richness of your curves and flesh. You are pushing for honesty, and honestly, you are driving me wild and crazy with both your eating and plush body. It feels kind of like a dream come true. But, really, stop rubbing me now," he said as he actually backed himself away for a moment. I let up on his crotch, but I leaned forward to keep our faces close and I locked him into a deep, soulful kiss. I pulled down my shirt. I could feel the heat coming off both of us. I let him loose and took a step back and plopped into the chair. Eric stood still in front of me, clearly still turned on. After a few moments, he finally committed. "I have never been so turned on as I have been since you got back from Europe. I love your round body. It is all I have been able to think about. And your eating is like some kind of erotic foreplay. I love it." He said this like a kid confessing to something naughty that he had done. "I would love it if we could keep this as part of what we do," he admitted. Okay, now I had an answer, but what did that really mean? "Are you saying that you want me to keep gaining?" As soon as I said that, I realized that I was not ready to do that. At least not the next day. I was as big as I felt comfortable and I realized that I didn’t even know the damage that had been done that evening, which was still not over. Mistaken by friends and family as significantly pregnant was enough. But still I had asked the question and I couldn’t now take it back. "Do you?" I asked, probably sounding a bit insecure. "There are folds and rolls that you have right now that I haven’t really explored," he explained. "I do not need you to gain more weight, but I guess my first choice would not be for you to start dieting. At least not like some commitment to getting all skinny again." I realized that I felt relieved. If I was honest with myself, I too, had never felt more turned on. The eating and chubbiness were turn ons not turn offs for me. Still, I wanted to remain "acceptable." I imagined heads turning when ever Carmen walked through a public place with people wondering how she would let herself get so round. The way she presented herself, it seemed like that attention got her off, but I was not ready for that level of commitment. I even figured that, after this night of debauchery, I would be ready to return to normal eating, which would probably mean that some of the weight would disappear. But I realized that I also felt a bit relieved that Eric’s preference wasn’t to commit to a dedicated weight loss program. That just didn’t sound like much fun at the moment. But I also realized that it wasn’t even that late and the fun could continue for a little while longer.

Chapter Thirty Seven Collette seemed to get a second wind after she was finally able to go to the bathroom and empty out a lot of what she had eaten over the past couple of days. I figured that the bike ride had helped. She sat down in the kitchen while I was cooking our dinner to keep me company. I opened one of the boxes of pastries that we had forgotten to take out to the Hamptons and put about half of them on a plate. Most were miniatures, so they were easy for her to pop into her mouth. I also poured her a glass of white wine to go with them. She sat at the counter out of range of my cooking, surfing on her lap top, typing with one hand while she reached for the plate with the other. She started showing me pictures of amazing women who were fat and beautiful and I had to tell her to stop so I could concentrate on cooking. She clearly had to realize that I was attracted to the fuller figure as something special. I had decided on a dinner of Fettuccini Alfredo, since it was rich and satisfying, but also relatively easy to make. I also figured on a big, healthy salad for roughage. To round out the meal, I made garlic knots. I wanted to find that balance that would give Collette that full feeling, but also keep her system functioning so that she would feel good. I still hadn’t figured out how to admit to Collette that I have been an FA from as long I could remember. I felt I was getting close, since she and I had been looking at these websites together and she seemed in to it. It was also interesting this afternoon when Mike seemed to be a little bit too into Collette’s weight gain. I wondered if I had been so secretive of my fetish that I was closed off to noticing it in others. "Eric, take a look at these photos of me when you get a chance," Collette asked me. It took me a little while to get to a point in the cooking that I didn’t need to be stirring something, but when I got the chance I went over to take a look at her pictures. "What are we looking at? " I asked. "This picture of my ass and thighs is making me a little nervous," she said. "I have dimples that I didn’t really know about and I guess this is cellulite on the back of my thighs." I couldn’t ignore that she popped another mini-eclair in her mouth right after expressing this concern. "Darling, this is totally normal and not even that dramatic," I pointed out. "What is bothering you?" "Well, I didn’t used to have this," she said pointing to the dimples on her butt. I assured her that her dimples and cellulite were less apparent in real life than they were in the photos. "If you were a model, these would just be air brushed out and if you were a catwalk model doing lingerie it wouldn’t be enough to matter," I assured her. "I guess it all depends on where I am modeling," she responded. "If I look at this picture of Shar, she has the same." Was Collette thinking of becoming a model on something like Curvage? This was all happening a bit too quickly, I thought. "Would you be comfortable posting pictures of yourself on Curvage?" I asked her. "I don’t think so," she answered. "I think I would be too embarrassed to do that and what if someone that we knew recognized me? "Well, you could always do the no face shots," I suggested, but quickly followed with, "but I am not suggesting that you do it." "Why not? Would you be embarrassed, or don’t you think I am cute enough?" she challenged, taking two more pastries from the box, because she had finished what I had put on the plate. I took several more out of the box and put them on the plate. "Look at my belly! I am so wide from both the front and from the side. It is different than when I look in the mirror. I am really fat," she said, sounding a bit insecure. "I think you are more beautiful than many of the women on Curvage and the equal of the few whose beauty really stands out," I assured her. "I just think it would be a really aggressive thing to do and once those pictures are there, they could be anywhere." "I am not suggesting that we do that, but I was just curious," she said, swallowing a mini cream puff. "Looking at my pictures, which don’t even have me made up or posing, I do think I look okay. I even kind of think I look good. But kind of gigantic, at least compared to where I used to be." "I think you look great, but I am not sure that you look chubby enough to really satisfy the Curvage set," I responded. "Let me finish cooking and we can see what this meal accomplishes on your plush new chubby body." "If I am understanding the attraction, there seems to be as much interest in the process of gaining the weight as there is in how the woman looks at the moment. I should have been photographing myself for the past six months. It is kind of shocking that, as fat as Camen has gotten, her fans seem to be encouraging her to gain more. She has to be pretty uncomfortable just trying to get around," Collette commented as she took another couple of pastries off the plate. "Is there some point at which someone gets too fat for their fans?" "I am guessing that different people have different ideas of what is ideal," I suggested. "Maybe some people go with the flow and find the transition from 110 to 300 beautiful at every pound, but others probably lose interest when a woman gets too big for them. Of course, that maybe gets offset by the people who don’t think that the woman floats their boat until she has gotten fat enough," I said, thinking of women on BigCuties, like Boberry and Jae, who probably need to be careful of the size of boat that they would be boarding. Collette reached for the plate, which she found was now empty again and then reached around in the box and found the last piece of pastry. I decided not to open the second box, since I wanted her to have an appetite for dinner. The recipe that I made for the fettuccini said that it served four to six. I was making two 1 pound boxes. I figured that this was more than the two of us could eat, particularly since it was so rich, but I also figured that it is a kind of an ultimate fattening ideal. Butter and Parmesan with pasta. My recipe didn’t include cream, which I thought made it too thick, but the extra butter and cheese made up for it in calories. I also had purchased the real Italian Alfredo noodles, which are thicker than regular fettuccini. She got up from where she was sitting at the computer and carried the empty box to the trash. She sat down at the dining table looking eager to be served. I asked her what she wanted to drink with dinner and she suggested that we switch to red wine. I fixed our plates while she opened the bottle and poured us each a glass. I gave each of us a good sized serving. As I set it down in front of Collette, she looked at it and smiled. "This looks dreamy," she said literally licking her lips. After she picked up her fork, but before she took her first bite, Collette had an idea. "Maybe you should film me eating this dinner," she suggested. "What do you think. Would that turn you on?" "I am game, if you are," I answered. I set up our camera on a tripod and focused it so that it framed her properly from the side so it would show her face eating, but also the profile of her thick torso. I turned up the lights so that she was less in shadow. I pressed the record button on the camera and Collette took a deep breath. And we started eating. She mugged for the camera, playing up how much she was enjoying the food. Bite followed bite and sooner than I had anticipated, her plate was clean. Since her belly was already so round and she was wearing a sweatshirt, it was hard to tell whether the one plate of pasta had made much of a difference. I was impressed that, with as much as she had already eaten that day, she still had such a good appetite. It was also interesting that, where maybe six months earlier we would have had a conversation during dinner, she was now totally focused on the food in front of her, almost moaning from satisfaction as she ate. She reached for two garlic knots, while I took her plate to refill it with another heaping serving of fettuccini. Collette refilled our wine glasses. Collette smiled first at me and then at the camera, as I set the plate down. She picked up her fork and again focused on the food. It took longer for her to finish the second plate but she still seemed to be eating with enthusiasm. "Would you like me to fix you a plate of salad?" I offered. "Sure," she answered. "It will help cut the rich taste in my mouth from the butter." I set down the salad plate and set her empty plate to the side. After she had taken a couple of bites of the salad, she looked at me with a puzzled expression and asked, "Is there a reason that you are not fixing me some more of the Alfredo?" Startled, I tried to explain, "I just didn’t want to push you too fast. Are you really ready for another serving?" I realized that my question could sound like I was discouraging her, so I jumped to fix her plate while she ate her salad. "Is there a reason that you don’t think I should have another serving," Collette asked? as she sat back in the chair and put her hands under her belly, holding it as if she was offering it to me. Wearing the long sweatshirt, it was difficult to really tell how the meal was affecting her belly. But with her hands holding her belly, I could tell it was generous and round. "No! I am bringing it now. Please. I will have it for you right away" I said, sounding as if it made complete sense that having eaten only two large servings of the pasta and several garlic knots, after eating a box of pastries, there was the risk that she was getting hungry. I managed to fit all of the rest of the fettuccini on the plate in a tall mound and set it down next to her as she finished her salad. Leaving the fresh plate where it was, she grabbed two more of the garlic knots. "These are great," she noted. She finished the knots and slid the plate of Alfredo in front of her. "This looks like twice as much as the other plates," she commented. "It is the rest of the fettuccini," I confirmed. "Well then, I hope this will do it," she said, as she picked up the fork, twirled it in the noodles and filled her mouth so full that her cheeks puffed out. A few strands didn’t make it and were left hanging. She sucked them in with a long, sexy slurp. After maybe five or six fork fulls, she took a pause and a deep breath, sitting back in her chair. "I am going to need something else to drink," she commented. "The wine is not refreshing me. I think I need something carbonated. Would you fix me a beer?" I fixed her a pint and brought it to her. She took a long swallow and breathed a deep breath as if the beer had rehydrated her. She took another long swallow and set the glass down. Still sitting back in her chair, she allowed her belly to arch out and what had previously been concealed by her sweatshirt was beginning to make itself more evident. The bloat that had disappeared with her trip to the bathroom earlier was back, and with the full plate in front of her I suspected she would soon be bigger than ever before. "You know, with that sweatshirt you are wearing, it is hard for the camera to see the impacts of your appetite," I suggested. "Maybe I can change into something more revealing later," she answered, "but right now I think it is what I should be wearing. It’s loose and comfy. Something tight would not be a great idea. Any thing with a waist is an non-starter right now." She leaned forward again, to shorten the distance from the plate to her mouth, and began her assault on what I had put on her plate. It really was a lot of pasta and I was feeling a bit guilty. She would work on finishing three fork-fulls and then take a break with a swallow of beer. I refilled her glass twice. She was clearly committed to finishing what I had served her, but it looked like it was a challenge. It took her close to half an hour, but finally her plate was clean and she had a glazed look in her eyes. "How are you feeling?" I asked. She sat back in her chair again and swung her face towards me, which actually looked puffy. I could tell that she intoxicated by both the food and drink. It took her a moment but she finally answered me. "I am starting to feel full," she said with a funny smile. She pulled up her sweatshirt and hung it on her breasts. Her belly was showing the effects of the feast and she was clearly inflated. Where before there had been a crease between the soft flesh above her navel, with the skin on her round lower belly being a bit more taught, the crease had almost disappeared and she now had more of a single curve that started under her breasts and arched outward to where her belly now sat on her thighs. She reached down and inspected the damage with her hands. "My God! I am a blimp!" I was struck by the way that she announced this more to the camera than to me. She was clearly performing for the camera. I wondered who was going to see this. "What can I do to help?" I asked. "It really feels like I am being stretched. The skin on my belly is itchy," she answered. I got the cocoa butter and sat down so that I could reach her belly. I softly and slowly rubbed the cocoa butter into the skin on her torso. She really did feel swollen. I could feel her actual stomach pushing out under her ribs on her left side. I tapped it with my thumb as if testing a watermelon and it had that same king of thump. Although I knew better, I commented that it sounded hollow. "Help me to my feet," she requested. "I need to pee." As she leaned forward to stand and I pulled her hands, she let go of a long, deep burp. The carbonation from the beer, mixed with the rich pastries and pasta had no doubt fermented in her belly. She made her way to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. She peed, passed gas, and burped and stayed seated for a few minutes. As she made her way back to the table, I asked her how she felt now. "Much better," she confirmed. I had stopped the camera while she was gone. "I am not trying to push you, but I do want to get you as full as you would like to be," I explained. She walked over to me and pulled up her sweatshirt. "Here, feel my belly, right here where it is hanging out over my cunny," she directed me. Her gut was projecting out almost six inches from her hips and it felt solid. It had heft and could move, but there was little jiggle and her skin was tight. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being empty and 10 being ready to burst, where are you?" I asked figuring that she had eaten almost two pounds of pasta and probably more than 4,000 calories. Collette really surprised me "I figure I am at around an 8." I had expected her to tell me that she was at 10, or maybe even at 11. "So what do you want to do now?" I asked. She explained that she, too, wanted to get to that point of really being full. Not feeling full, but being totally full. And she wanted to make love after getting there. I was not sure how that was going to work and I found myself worrying whether she could really hurt herself. I figured that actually exploding was not possible, since she would probably throw up first.

Chapter Thirty Five Collette and I had just had a real discussion about preferences and fat and what could beauty include. The conversation had pushed all of the way to her questioning whether I maybe preferred her fatter. Still, I wimped out. I could have told her that my entire life I fantasized about chubbier women. I could have shown her my collection of downloads from Curvage, BigCuties, and even Dimensions, which was the first webpage that I had discovered maybe 15 years ago. Over those years, so much had been posted that it seemed like an idea that may have always been there, but didn’t have a place to be exposed. Why was I so hesitant to let her know my real feelings? I felt kind of cowardly. And saying that I felt guilty was clearly an understatement. I had always felt guilty about this. It was my secret. I didn’t admit it to anyone. Several years ago, when I was in architecture school, four of us went on a road trip from New York to Chicago to take a look at the architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak Park, as well as the work of people like Louis Sullivan in the city itself. I had a van and I was doing most of the driving. Our plan was to push through the 13 hour drive in one day. When we were about four hours out, we stopped and picked up a case of beer. I was the designated driver, so I committed to the last four hours, leaving my three friends free to enjoy the beer. After they had each had several, the discussion turned to women. All three had very attractive girlfriends, who coincidently were all decidedly slim. In fact, even in her totally toned state at that time, Collette was probably the heaviest at 130. Jeff’s girlfriend Maggie had to be almost six feet tall and couldn’t have weighed 120. She was model thin. The discussion turned to one of the women in our class who was full figured. Perhaps induced by the alcohol in the beer, the three of them proceeded to express their lust for Ellen with her big tits, big ass, and thick waist. She was nice looking, but I am sure she didn’t see herself as anyone’s ideal, since our society made it very clear: fat is not beauty. Ellen was smart and talented and it was clear that she had confidence, but I wondered whether she was willing to have sex with the lights on. These three guys proceeded to describe her as erotic and how they all thought of her at times and in ways that they shouldn’t. James even admitted that he sometimes thought of her when he was making love to his girl friend, two of whom could probably fit into Ellen’s body. I stayed relatively silent during that discussion and did not reveal that I could show them a collection of photos that I had downloaded in which Ellen would be considered one of the thinner women. That conversation really stuck with me. How many guys were going through life maintaining a proper image with their acceptably thin wives and girlfriends, while secretly craving to be making love to a big beautiful woman. If all of the men who felt the way that I felt were willing to be honest, I wondered what would happen. As my discussion with Collette continued, we got to a point where she directly asked me whether it was possible that I was actually enjoying her overweight body more than I had her slimmer self. It was like we were playing Truth or Dare and I took the dare to avoid having to really answer that question. It wasn’t that I had questions about how I felt, but I just didn’t feel ready to be that honest. I knew that it was coming; but not yet. Collette’s dare for me was great. She dared me to make her an ice creamed Sunday. Not much of a challenge, but one that signaled that this experiment was still moving forward. We went into the kitchen to make Sundays. "Do you have a flavor preference?" I asked. "Yes," she answered, "a combination." I took out a big bowl and several of the cartons. Collette took out a second bowl and made it clear that she wanted me to have one, too. I remember thinking that was interesting. I put four large scoops into her bowl and smaller scoops into mine, which prompted Collette to put another scoop into mine. "I don’t want my consumption to cause you to be deprived. I know you like ice cream, too," she explained. Still, there was a lot more ice cream in her bowl than mine. I added a large dollop of the Marshmallow Fluff only to hers, since I didn’t really like it, and chocolate sauce to both. I then made a tower of whipped cream on her Sunday. We carried them to the table and got her laptop. "What do you want to watch now?" I asked. "Can you find an appropriate video with Shar?" She asked. I knew the perfect one: where Shar is shown sitting in a restaurant eating a steak and potatoes, and then a Sunday of her own. I downloaded it and, as soon as the video began, we started eating our Sundays. Collette was toying with me by kind of moaning with satisfaction as she slowly spooned the ice cream into her mouth. She was performing for me. We watched as Shar made her way through her meal and then started in on her own Sunday. "My Sunday is bigger than Shar’s" Collette said, sounding pleased. "Yes, but Shar’s belly is bigger than yours," I countered. "Well, she has been doing this longer than I have,"Collette responded. I didn’t exactly know what to do with that statement, so I left it alone. We ate slowly and as we were getting close to finishing, I asked Collette if she wanted to fix her more. "I think I am good for now with ice cream, but do you think you could be interested in eating something else?" she flirted. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she meant. She pushed her bowl away and sat back with a satisfied expression, rubbing her belly. By this point in the video, Shar was climbing the stairs in the building where she lived looking as if it was a bit of an effort. As she is unlocking to door, Shar unbuttoned her pants to relieve the pressure on her belly, which generously curved forward. Inside her apartment, Shar changed into shorts and flopped onto her bed, with her belly proudly defying gravity. Collette stood up and took my hand to get me to stand up. Then she led me to the bedroom where she duplicated Shar’s flop onto our bed. While not quite as big as Shar, Collette’s belly was impressive. I lay down next to her and we started making out. Her mouth tasted like chocolate, and I assumed my did too. "Are you hungry for anything else?" she asked coyly. "What do you have in mind?" I asked, already having a pretty good idea. "Well, I thought maybe you would be in the mood to nibble on me a bit," she answered. "I could enjoy seeing how you taste, if you are interested. "I am feeling a little bit full," I answered, "but I would enjoy licking you." She smiled and shifted herself to give me more room on the bed. I got myself between her chubby thighs with her knees bent up. With my head positioned so that I could lick her cunny, I realized that the geography had changed a little. My forehead was pushing into her belly, which I assumed would not be comfortable for her. "Here, let’s try this," I suggested, getting her to shift her ass over and slide down a bit on the bed so that I had my head perpendicular to her legs. This enabled me to lick her and work my tongue into her cunny and along her clit without putting unwanted pressure on her belly. "How is this?" I mumbled while my tongue was busy. "That is absolutely quite nice," she answered. We got into a nice rhythm, with her rocking her ass a little bit. I liked this position because it made it easier for me to reach her breasts, which I started fondling. I worked on her cunny, making teasing circles around her clit. As her clit came out to play, I started to punctuated my pattern with an occasional draw of my tongue wide over her clit. This caused her to push back against me. I had been playing with her thighs with my other hand, but then shifted so I could reach her cunny. Using my fingers to tug on her lips, I increased the tension on her clit so my tongue would pull up, while my fingers pulled down. I could actually feel her skin getting hotter, with a slight sheen of sweat starting to form on her belly. I moved my hand from her breasts to her belly and started to rub, but she grunted in a way that suggested that was not a good idea. I shifted so that my body was more along side of hers, which enabled me to move my hand to her ass. Now I was able to pull her crotch more up towards me as part of the rhythm. This continued for a few minutes as her breathing got deeper. Finally, she pushed up hard into my face and then bucked back and forth as she came. She was vibrating and pushed my head away. Often when she came like this, any further contact on her cunny was simply too intense. I shifted around so that my head was next to hers and I put my skin against hers, avoiding putting any pressure on her belly. I figured that, with how much she had eaten, almost any position to have intercourse would be either uncomfortable or too much effort. "What about you? Would you like me to go down on you?" she asked. "I think that sounds great," I answered, if you aren’t too worn out. "Do you mind if we try something a little bit different?" she asked. "It will fit into our little adventure?" "Whatever you would like to try. I’m game," I answered. She got up from the bed, her first steps being a bit wobbly, and headed out of the room. She came back with the whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a towel. We spread the towel on the bed and I laid down on it, with pillows behind my back. She kneeled down on the bed in front of me and started to shake the can of whipped cream. The motion of her shaking the can was a wonderful treat, in the way that it made her breasts and belly wiggle and jiggle. This really showed off her chub. Then she sprayed the whipped cream on my cock. My first reaction was to the fact that it was cold, but she quickly put her mouth over the top of my cock as she swallowed the cream. She repeated this several times. Then she took the bottle of chocolate sauce, drizzled it on my cock, and sucked it off, licking from top to bottom with her hot tongue. I would have loved to keep doing this for a while, but when she sprayed me again with whipped cream and put her mouth on me to swallow it, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I came violently with the feeling that my mind had left my body. The whole day was foreplay for me and I guess I was in a high state of arousal. Collette had not previously been a swallower, but with her mouth full of whipped cream already, she swallowed everything. She lay down along side of me and it felt good to have her warm, chubby body next to me. I had my arm around her and my fingers found her love handle, which in the way she was laying, was very pronounced. "You have to be one of those guys," she said. "You can’t stop playing with my fat." My mouth didn’t seem to be operating properly yet, as I lay there in post-cum flutter, so I didn’t try to answer her. We lay there for a little while, as I returned to earth. "I want to take a shower. Do you feel like joining me"? Collette asked, nestling her head into my chest. Realizing that I had the leftovers of whipped cream and chocolate sauce all over my crotch, I agreed it would be a good idea. "I’ll call you when it is ready," she said getting herself up off the bed. A few minutes later, she called me that the shower was hot and she was getting in. I got up and joined her. The warm water felt great. I took the soap and started rubbing it on her body. All soapy, her rounds and mounds of chub felt even sexier. I couldn’t believe it, but I started getting hard again. While I rubbed up against her, I didn’t try to slide into her. After we were cleaner than we may have ever been before, with each crevice and fold carefully washed, we got out and dried off. "How would you feel about some exercise?" I asked. "Exercise?" I am not sure that sounds all that great right now. What do you have in mind?" she asked. "I am just thinking that it would be good to get our bodies moving. I is a beautiful day. What about a bike ride? Nothing fast or demanding. Maybe just ride along the Aqueduct and loop over to the South County Trailway," I asked. "We could give Mike and Elisa a call to see if they would like to join us." "I guess if it is agreed that we are riding casual. I am not up for lycra riding," she explained. "Let’s do it. We can work up an appetite for dinner," I suggested. She turned and smiled, but with a kind of sarcastic look, just shaking her head as if to say, "I should have known." Chapter Thirty Six After a most excellent lick-fest, Eric suggested that we go for a bike ride. At first I was thinking that this would not work, given my consumption over the last day, but then I thought it was actually a good idea. As long as he promised that we would not be riding hard, I figured that it could help to get my body moving. Plus he made arrangements for us to meet up with Mike and Elisa, who I knew would not be too judgmental about how fat I had gotten. I hadn’t seen them since maybe a month before I left, when Elisa was in her ninth month of pregnancy. They had the baby a couple of days before I flew out, but I didn’t get to see her or the baby, although her Facebook page was photos of little else but her baby. I got dressed again, but this time put on my Spandex. I thought this could hold me together and prevent my belly from bouncing all over the place from the bumps on the trail. It was harder to squeeze my bloated belly into the bodysuit, but once I had it on, it felt good. I looked at myself in the mirror and, while it smoothed me out, it also seemed to emphasize my roundness. Even with the Spandex on, my size 14 jeans felt snug. Even though it was a warm day, I put on a large button down shirt, which I did not tuck in. I figured that this gave me a bit of camouflage, although it also left more to the imagination. I decided that it was a toss up. Someone could either assume that I looked big because my oversized shirt was billowy or that I had become billowy, as evidenced by my oversized shirt. At some point, I decided that I needed to lose the anxiety of what people were going to think about my body. It was what it was. We got the bikes out from under the deck and took off the covers. Everything seemed in good shape. Eric got out his electric pump so that he could quickly bring the tires up to pressure. And we were off. We rode down to Main Street and met up with Mike and Elisa. Mike gave me a big hug and said, "Whow, Mama!" as he reached around me. Elisa had a similar reaction when we hugged, although she didn’t say anything. I was a little disappointed that Elisa seemed to already be back to her pre-pregnancy body. I was remembering her at nine months when she was very round. Elisa gave me a puzzled look, but still didn’t ask. I knew what she was thinking. Eric and Mike got on their bikes and started riding slowly ahead. Elisa gave me one more look and I whispered to her, "No. I am not pregnant. I just really enjoyed the Italian and French pastries." I could tell that I was freaking Elisa out a little bit, but I just pushed off on my bike and said, "Let’s catch up to the boys." We rode along at an easy pace for about half an hour. My legs were starting to feel it. We came up to a little downtown area that had good views of the Hudson River and decided to get something to drink. It was Labor Day and around 4:30 so a glass of wine at an outside table seemed appropriate. While we were sitting, Mike asked me to tell them about my travels. I talked about the places that I had gone and what I had seen. After I had not mentioned anything about food, Mike asked me straight out, "You went there to learn more about making pastries, right? How successful was that?" "Very," I answered, pulling my shirt tight and holding my belly. "Mike, Collette is not pregnant," Elisa explained. I wasn’t sure how such an announcement was necessary, but Elisa continued, "Since I was pregnant, Mike thinks every woman with a bit of a belly is pregnant. Twice now he has awkwardly embarrassed himself by asking women who were not pregnant when they were due." "Maybe I should get a "T" shirt with an arrow pointing down to my belly that says ‘creme puffs and cannolis’," I suggested. I said it in a way to make sure that they understood that I wasn’t offended and everyone laughed. "I guess I was just thinking maybe it was a baby because of the way that you were putting on weight last spring," Mike said. "I figured that maybe you were pregnant and getting your flights to and from Europe in before the third trimester." "You have to excuse Mike," Elisa explained. "Since we were pregnant and had the baby, he has decided that he is the authority on everything about having kids." I turned to Elisa and complemented her, "You sure did a good job getting your figure back. I mean, it has been less than four months. I know some women who are still struggling a year later." "I think it has been the breast feeding and the fact that I may have looked huge, but I didn’t really go crazy with the weight gain," Elisa explained. "I wasn’t trying to keep it down, but I didn’t really feel that good for several months. I mean I did put on 35 pounds, but a lot of it seemed to drop off of me in the two weeks after giving birth. I guess I was holding a lot of water." "Well, you look great. How is the baby?" I asked. "Wonderful beyond description, but exhausting," Mike answered. "I think Mike was a little disappointed that I did get my figured back so quickly," Elisa said. "I think he enjoyed me being the madonna with my big belly." "You were beautiful," Mike said wistfully. The three of us looked at him and he quickly corrected how that sounded, "But you are just as beautiful now," Mike added, sounding awkward. "It’s okay, Mike," Elisa said, "we understand how you are attracted to pregnant women. Eric and I looked at one another. "Mike is going to need another hug from you soon," she said looking at me. "He definitely has a thing for the fuller figured woman and you do look very ripe. I also was wondering whether you were pregnant last spring when you started putting on weight." I looked at Eric again. "How is it that everyone seemed to be aware that I was gaining weight last spring except me?" I asked. "We were talking about it earlier, since I was kind of freaked out about how much I had gained in the three month of traveling, but Eric also suggested that maybe a third of it was pre-departure weight gain. I honestly had no idea that I was gaining." "How much have you gained," asked Mike. "MICHAEL!," Elisa shouted at him. "That is not a question that is appropriate to ask any woman." Elisa turned to me and said, "Please excuse him. Since I started growing with my pregnancy he has had this obsession with women gaining weight. It is weird." "So that there is no confusion," Mike explained, "I wasn’t being critical. I think you are looking very beautiful. Even if you aren’t pregnant. I didn’t mean to offend you." "No offense taken," I said, letting him off the hook. "In a way, I actually appreciate it. You said it in a very nice way and I am taking it as a complement." "Complement intended," Mike continued. "Okay, Michael, end of discussion about Collette’s body," Elisa commanded. "I just think the two of us are very lucky to have beautiful women in our lives," Eric added, sounding oh so politically correct. We paid the bill and got back on our bikes. It was now approaching 5:30 and I figured we should be heading back. We road a different way, which took us over a bridge that had boards. Eric was ahead of me and turned around so that he was riding back towards me as I rode over the bridge. He had actually stopped so that he could watch me. As I was going over the boards, I figured out he was watching how my body was bouncing with the uneven surface. "I hope you are enjoying yourself," I said as I passed him, but I did say it in a nice way. "Very scintillating," was his only comment. "Glad that I could entertain," I said with a smile. We said goodby to Mike and Elisa. As we were about to ride away, Mike called after us, "Let’s get together soon for dinner." I don’t think we were supposed to hear Elisa’s comment, but she turned to him and said, "Would you give it a rest?" When we were maybe 10 minutes from home, I started riding faster. I could tell that something was happening in my guts and I wanted to be home when this hit. As we were walking into our apartment I suggested that Eric use the bathroom quickly, if he needed it, because I was going to need it in a minute. Eric rushed in and took a piss. While he was peeing, I quickly downed a large glass of water. As I closed the door, I said to Eric, "Hope to see you soon." I sat on the toilet feeling like I really needed to go. For maybe a minute, it felt like my guts were trying, but were stopped up. Suddenly, it was if the plug passed and I experienced a wonderful feeling of a ton of crap evacuating my system. I actually moaned in pleasure. I sat for about a minute after the first wave and then experienced a second and third wave. I actually considered flushing the toilet half way through for fear I was going to fill it. Finally, I was done. My belly actually looked smaller. I had really been full. I pulled out the scale and even with all of the food that I ate at lunch, which had to weigh maybe three pounds by itself, I had "lost" 4 pounds and the scale read 187. Remembering how much water I was holding from the salty Chinese food, I figured that I had sweat out some of that difference. As I came out, Eric asked me whether everything was okay. I told him that I was feeling much better, since the bike ride seemed to have loosened me up. "It was probably that ride over the bridge," he suggested. "You were really bouncing." I went into our bedroom and stripped out of my spandex. Wearing it made my body feel toned, which contrasted dramatically as I pulled it off with how my blubber revealed itself. I felt like dough rising. I put on an oversized sweatshirt as if it were a short dress. I decided against anything that had a waist so that I would feel unconstrained. I came out of the bedroom and Eric smiled. "You look very comfy," he observed. "I am," I answered, kind of sashaying with my belly feeling loose and every thing feeling free. "Dinner is going to take me about an hour to make. When do you think you are going to feel like eating?" "I could be ready to eat anytime you like," I answered with renewed enthusiasm. "Well, it is after 6:30 now so maybe between 7:30 and 8:00?" he asked. "Sounds great to me," I answered. "Why don’t you bring your laptop in to the kitchen and hang with me while I am cooking?" he suggested. We moved into the kitchen and I started searching on my laptop, while Eric began preparing dinner. The first thing he did was open the one of the boxes of pastries that we had forgotten to take out to the Hamptons and fixed me a generous plate to nibble on. After all it was going to be a long hour before dinner. The pastries were slightly stale, but they still tasked good. "What do you want to drink with the pastries," Eric asked. "There is a chilled Riesling in the wine refrigerator which should be a good match," I answered. So, as Eric worked on making our dinner, I absent mindedly grazed on the plate of pastries. which he replenished as needed. The Riesling did work with the richness of the pastries. While I was enjoying these treats with my mouth, I enjoyed some other treats with my eyes. I searched plus sized models and was amazed about how many there were and how beautiful they were. Lingerie and swimsuit catwalks for fashion shows were well represented on YouTube. Many were in Brazil, where is seemed that women with large butts were particularly in fashion. I found La’tecia Thomas, who was a very popular fashion model despite the fact that she was big. Then I tried to correct my thinking. Should I have described her as a "very popular fashion model who happened to be big" or even as a "very popular big fashion model? Then I wondered if her sized even needed to be an issue. I hesitated to describe her as chubby or fat, although both would be fair, but she was something different. Similar in many ways to Shar, she was just more. I was struck by how beautiful she was. Again, not in spite of being fat, but more because of how wonderful she looked fat. There was a video of her on YouTube that showed her trying on different swimsuits. She stood facing the camera with a mirror behind her so that you could see how she looked from the front and from the back at the same time. She had a big belly, big breast, big thighs, big hips and a big ass. She was completely unapologetic about her figure. She had folds of back fat that simply seemed that the most natural attribute on a beautiful woman. Ashley Graham was beautiful, but kind of like a larger version of a regular model. La’tecia was different. "What do you think of this woman," I asked Eric. He looked at her and simply said, "Fucking beautiful. But if you show me any more like that, I am going to have trouble finishing making our dinner."

Did that motorcycle jacket once fit? It would be an interesting short video showing you trying to zip it up. Particularly if you have a photo of your wearing it closed. Thanks

Congratulations for whatever has caused you to gain the confidence to move towards being who you want to be. Thin or thick you are a good looking woman and the important thing is for you to be happy. I hope that the waterfall of enthusiasm that your posts are bringing to you is helping you build that confidence. I think you should be getting to the point that you don't have to feel that nervous anymore about your posts. Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty Three I couldn’t believe how sensual Collette was being. I tried to reciprocate by giving her a massage. Standing up without any clothes on she looked amazing. Round into round and all curves, I was completely overwhelmed by her. She had eaten more than I anticipated and I felt lucky that I had not disappointed her with this meal the way that she kind of suggested that I had with breakfast. Still, I figured that if I had stuffed her with pancakes or something like that when she first woke up, it could have shut her down for the rest of the day. She was obviously very full from lunch, but my hope was that she still had some room and could rally for the main event that I had planned for dinner. While she was eating what I served for, she joked that what she was eating could fill her up and kill her appetite for lunch, as if this was just some kind of snack. The comment reminded me of a comedian years ago who used to joke about the reason that he was fat was, that in his household, his mother ran a tight ship at meal time, insisting that they finish their cake before they were allowed to have dessert. She did a great job eating four hamburgers, four hot dogs and most of two pints of potato salad and macaroni salad. She also made a dent in the bowl of chips, several of which she dipped into mayonnaise. I figured that she probably could have eaten more, but didn’t want to kill her appetite for the rest of the day. Collette had me help her to the bathroom and she peed. She passed gas with me in the room, ignoring her normal embarrassment. I figured that this needed to be the new normal and was natural due to the reality that eating like this left less control over such things. She actually said that she was glad that she was passing gas, since she was worried that her colon could have become impacted from all of the rice. "I researched it on line and I guess I am just wishing some of the binge food could make its way through me," she explained. "Medically, I am not even considered constipated, since I went to the bathroom yesterday morning, but since then I feel like I have eaten a week’s worth of food and it is all sitting right here," she said wobbling her lower belly for emphasis. Even the wobble showed that she was more packed tight than fluffy. Her skin was dense had the look of a full water balloon. She looked wonderful to me. I suggested that I help her move to the overstuffed chair, where she could just lay back and relax. She asked me to help first with getting her into her sweat pants. She did not want to bend over. Bending was clearly out of the realm of comfort. She stepped into the sweats and I lifted the waste band up so that her sweats pinched in over her hips and in the crease under her belly. I thought it was so cute the way that she had developed this definitive lower belly that was so prominent. I helped lower her down into the chair. She looked so sexy there, topless, with her dome of a belly dominating her body. After she was comfortably positioned in the chair, she asked me to get her lap top, which she placed on her belly, using it like a table. I brought her a glass of water, which I figured was better for her than diet coke, since she really needed to hydrate. I cleaned up the kitchen and dining room, while she explored more websites. "Come look at this girl," Collette called from the living room. She had found Carmen LaFox. "This is just astounding!" she exclaimed. Again, I tried to feign ignorance, as though I didn’t already know Carmen’s story, having already purchased several of her videos. "This girl started out really skinny and she blew up into a balloon," Collette said with amazement. "Look at this belly! She makes me look like a sylph." I went and looked at the pictures with her. "I guess it depends on where in her journey you are looking at her. For the first year, her gain is presented as an enormous 66 pounds, but at that point I think she still weighed 20 pounds less than you do right now, although she is only 5'-2"," I explained authoritatively. As soon as I said this, I realized that I had just offered more information than I should have known. "How do you know all about Carmen?" Collette asked after thinking about it for a moment. "She was on that site that you showed me earlier," I tried as an excuse. "Wasn’t she the girl that you thought looked like you?" "Good God, no! I am not sure I would be willing to put another bite in my mouth, if my belly was that huge. I would be afraid that I would explode. The girl that I showed you earlier was Goddess Shar. I don’t remember seeing Carmen on Curvage and I certainly don’t think I look like her. At least not yet," Collette countered, sounding a bit worried. I shrugged my shoulders and asked her if there was anything else I could get for her. "Let me just sit here for a little while. This is a comfortable position, since I am supported by the chair, sparing my muscles. Most of my belly seems to be sitting in my lap. Do you think I look as big as Carmen?" she asked anxiously. "Of course not. She weighs something like 60 pounds more than you and she is 6 inches shorter than you," I reassured her. "Where do you think she is on that BMI chart?" I asked, eager to have changed the subject. I noticed that Collette’s belly wasn’t actually sitting on her thighs, the way that Carmen’s looked. The curve of her lower belly did disappear into the crease formed at her hips and thighs, but most of her belly was defying gravity and projecting up from her body. Much more similar to Shar. I continued cleaning and when I came back maybe ten minutes later, Collette had fallen asleep. I moved the laptop off her belly and sat just looking at her for a little while. I took a couple of photos, since she looked so cute. I was mesmerized by her round belly and generous body. She was my dream come true. How did I get so lucky that the woman that I loved for her mind and personality had transformed herself from being just beautiful to become a big beautiful woman? I wondered how she would react if I were to tell her that I thought she was a BBW and that I am a FA - a fat admirer - someone who is attracted to women with fuller figures. While I definitely thought of it as my fetish, I also wondered how much of a fetish it really was instead of being simply a realistic preference. While the fashion world continues to focus primarily on thin women, the reality was that more than two-thirds of women are a size 14 or bigger. And I had certainly noticed Ashley Graham on the cover of the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated. Anyone who would argue that Ashley Graham was too fat to be beautiful must have other problems. She was something like 200 pounds at 5'-9" tall and simply great looking. I covered Collette lightly with a silk shawl. I looked at the clock and was a little surprised that, after all of that cooking and eating, it was now only 1:30 in the afternoon. There was still a lot of day left for more adventures. Chapter Thirty Four I woke up after about an hour alone in the living room. Eric was sitting at his computer in his office. I hadn’t planned to take a nap but it did feel good. I wiggled myself forward in the chair - is it possible to waddle in a sitting position? - and used the arms of the chair to pull myself up into a sitting position. Using my stomach muscles did not seem practical. My belly was sodden with food and felt stretched out. I don’t know what else I should have expected, since I had simply been sleeping in a chair after doing a pretty good job of packing it. As much as I had eaten, though, I realized that I had not gotten to totally full. At least not as close as I had gotten at dinner the night before. Both times, I could have eaten a very thin wafer without exploding. I was even starting to feel like lunch had retreated a bit and moved from my stomach to my guts. While my guts may have been been working overtime, my stomach felt emptier and potentially ready, if Eric had something else in mind soon. I hefted myself up so that I was standing and rotated myself around to loosen up. I would swear that I could feel me skin pulling tight as I shifted my mass around. I headed into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet hoping for movement. I peed and let out more gas, but everything was still sitting tight in my bowels. I took a couple of the stool softeners. These weren’t laxatives, but were suppose to soften things up so that they were easier to move. As I came out of the bathroom, Eric asked me how I was feeling. "Not bad, all considering. What are you doing?" I asked. "I just did some research on the woman that you had found and there is a lot of information about her on Curvage. She is quite fascinating," he remarked. "She has made a lot of videos and I downloaded one, if you want to watch it," I offered. "You actually paid for one of her videos?" Collette asked. "Yeah, I figured that it would help us understand this scene," he explained. "Is it porn?" I asked. "I think some of them might be, but the one I downloaded is about her trying to put on a pair of pants, but she can’t get then even close to buttoning. She finally gets frustrated and then weighs herself and freaks out," he reported. "What does she do then in the video?" I asked. "She kind of tries to do some stretching and exercise," Eric answered, "but quickly realizes that it is hopeless." "And then," I pressed "What do you think she does? She is a weight gain model. Her response to feeling too fat is to sit down and eat from a trough of ice cream in her bra and panties with her big round belly looking like it is pinning her to the couch," I answered. "And it isn’t porn?" I persisted. "Well, I guess it is all relative. Maybe it is fat food porn," I suggested. "But it doesn’t involve any traditional sex." "Should I watch it?" I pressed. "Sure. We can watch it together on the couch," he offered. Eric brought my laptop over and cued up the video. "Come over and snuggle close." I sat down leaning my body up against his. It reminded me that I am lucky to have a strong boyfriend. He started the video. "So this isn’t Shar?" I asked. "I thought that was who we looked at before." "No. This is Carmen. I think she lives in Portugal or Spain," Eric explained. "I think Shar lives in England." I had to admit that the video of Carmen seemed a little bit crazy. Here was this girl who was absolutely huge, with one of the most expanded bellies I think I had ever seen, trying awkwardly to move around. It looked like the mass of weight in her belly made it difficult for her to maintain balance. I had watched some videos on YouTube of very fat women, but they were all squishy looking and often bottom heavy. Carmen had a substantial ass, but her belly was really distinctive, looking as if it had been inflated. There was no crease or fold in her belly and it was not a series of bulges or lumps. It just started projecting out from under her breasts and then arched down hanging past her crotch. It was smooth, broad, and pendulant. It looked like she was so wide that it was hard for her to put her arms down straight at her sides. The way that her fat breasts seemed to merge into the fat on her back created a large roll of fat over her bra, which had to be uncomfortable. I wondered why she would keep her bra on. When she moved, her belly would wobble a bit, but it looked taught, as if it were stretched tight. I wondered if she intentionally stuffed herself before she made this video to emphasize how big she looked. "She is quite different from Shar. I think Shar looks more like me with a bit more weight, but I don’t think my body is that much like Carmen," I said, hoping that Eric would agree. I was hoping that I didn’t look that big; at least not yet. The story line in Carmen’s video was that she had gotten so fat she couldn’t get her jeans on and, frustrated, decided to weigh herself and, when shocked at how much she weighed, decided to do some exercises, and when it was clear that she couldn’t even do one sit up, retreated to the only choice left, which was to sit on the couch and stuff herself. Suddenly, I realized that I was reflected in the mirror on the wall. I couldn’t compete with Carmen, but it was fair for me to acknowledge that I was doing a pretty good job of stuffing myself and here I sat on my couch with an impressive belly of my own. I figured the only reason I didn’t have food in my hands was my feeder was giving me a break. I would have thought that the premise of the video was absurd, if I didn’t have an understanding how the female brain could work. I remembered one time sitting with my sister Emma reading a quiz in Cosmo. The question was something like, "Your jeans are too tight to close. Do you A. Decide to diet, B. Decide to exercise, C. Pick out something else to wear, or D. Devour the entire contents of the refrigerator. Emma immediately checked D. I figured that Carmen was acting in this video, but she couldn’t fake the shape of her body. I figured that some people eat when they are frustrated. Some eat when they are bored. Some eat when they are happy, and some eat when they are sad. Looking at Carmen, I could only assume that she was inspired to eat in every mood. I thought that she looked a bit distorted and uncomfortable. Eric was watching intently. I wondered what he thought of this. "So what do you think of Carmen?" I asked. "I think she is getting really fat," he answered, not taking his eyes off of the screen. "Doesn’t it seem like she is unhappy?" I asked. "I think she is play acting," he answered. "She is producing this video so it is not like this is happening to her. I think she is in control and doing exactly what she wants to do. There seems to be a humiliation component to this." "So she intentionally worked to get this fat?" I asked. "I don’t know. Maybe in the beginning, it was just some change in lifestyle or maybe a boyfriend that wanted her curvier. If you look at the long string of posts that were theoretically put together by her boyfriend under the tag "My Girlfriend has Gained 66 Pounds in the Last Year, it started when she was skinny and accidentally gained 20 pounds. Her boyfriend posted that he had a fetish for fat women, so was not discouraging her. Here read it right here," he said clicking on a Curvage page, while Carmen’s video played in the background. I read the post. " I met my girl on June last year. She weighed 110 lbs. And is 62 inches. I’ve been in this forum for a while, but never had a real life experience. At the beginning of our relationship, she didn’t know about my fetish. But she told me that she had always been chubby when she was younger. She managed herself to maintain slim for 3 years. During last summer she gained 20 lbs. For me, it was amazing to see my fetish come to reality, but I was afraid of telling her." "So then she continued gaining and in the one year added another 46 pounds?" I asked. "Exactly!" Eric answered with a bit more enthusiasm than I would have expected. "It really sounds as if the time of her being slim was the exception." "And now she weighs, what? 115 kilos? How much is that in pounds?" I pursued. Eric took out his phone and used an app to show that 115 kilos was 253.532 pounds. So exact. "And this is in like two years, so she gained 143 pounds in two years? Doesn’t that sound crazy? How does someone do that? Why does someone do that?" I asked, maybe more in amazement than anything else. Eric sat back and was clearly thinking carefully about how to respond. Finally, he said, "Maybe she really likes to eat and ended up liking herself better fat." He said this as if it made perfect sense. "If that happened, it sounds like she met the right guy." "But, in this video, she seems kind of miserable, as if this is not what she planned at all, but something that happened to her, like she succumbed to her weakness and, then, her fate," I suggested. "It is as if she is addicted to food and to eating." "But, isn’t that the way she is supposed to feel, according to how beauty and happiness are depicted in the media?" Eric explained. "I think she is just playing her role. She is acting the way we say a fat woman should feel about herself. I don’t actually agree with this idea, but I think she is playing the role that a fat person is not supposed to be happy with herself and, guilty for having no discipline, is supposed to punish herself for her weakness by doing the very thing that she is guilty for doing, making herself fatter and, therefore, more miserable." "But, that sounds awful," I responded. "But, that is the point. It is not the way things have to be. In fact, my guess is that she and her guy are in a very special relationship in which their dreams have come true through each other," Eric offered. I had to think about this, since it made sense in this specific instance, but it seemed so contrary to the way things are supposed to be, at least in popular culture. Eric continued, "Think about the fact that these websites exist. If you click on some of these models, they have tens of thousands of admirers. I kind of think that we are all victims of a system that tries to impose narrow restrictions on what beauty can be." "Are these women beautiful to you?" I asked. I realized that it was a bit of an odd question for me to ask on a couple of different levels. First, I was sitting here with Eric confident that he loved me despite the fact that I no longer fit in between the lines on a weight chart that would agree that my weight was "normal." Second, I also thought that ChubbyBunny, Goddess Shar, and Carmen, who was dramatically fatter than the other two, were very attractive women. In some ways, Carmen was even the most dramatic for her extreme challenge to the perception of a beautiful woman. After all, it didn't seem that the people were following her because they thought she was unattractive. Eric seemed to be looking for an answer to my question. Finally, he said something that took me a while to digest. He said, "I think Carmen is very attractive and more so for the weight. She is cute in the pictures that show her at 110 pounds, but I think she is erotic with her huge belly. I also think that Shar is one of the sexiest women that I have ever seen." "I feel like we should be playing ‘Truth of Dare," I said. "Okay, how about you?" Eric asked. "You have gained weight. You are fatter than you were a year ago. I understand that you only really caught on to this because of the weight that you gained in Europe, but I think your body may have been leading you in this direction since before then. When you look at yourself in the mirror, what do you think?" "I think I look fat," I answered. "But that is just a description, similar to saying that you have dark brown hair, are kind of tan, and are tall," he pushed. "How do you feel about how you look? You don’t seem miserable, the way that you think Carmen should feel. In fact, it seems to me as if you are kind of having a bit of fun right now. Tell me if I am wrong. Truth or dare." "First, I am not ready to compare myself to Carmen, I think I am very curious," I answered. "My whole life I was in between those normal lines, but now I am not and I am curious. I don’t totally understand how I feel. I guess you are right. I am thinking that I should be freaked out, but I am finding it kind of interesting. I mean, feeling my body this big is different and it I almost feel like I am exploring a totally new body. Now you: truth or dare. What do you really think of my body right now? Do you love me in spite of my body? Are you accepting it because you love me and it is me right now? Or is my fatness turning you on? If I think about the last several days, it seems like you are reacting a bit like Carmen’s boyfriend and enjoying me having a fuller figure." "Okay, I’ll take the dare," He responded, maybe not ready to actually say that he preferred me fatter. "But don’t worry. You should already know the answer to that question. I think I am just a bit embarrassed at the moment to admit it. So what is the dare." "I dare you to make me an ice cream Sunday with all the fixings," I challenged him.

Thanks. See how it works in what I just posted. I have her having to acknowledge that she could have actually put on 10 or 15 pounds in the time between Christmas and when she left for Europe, which would mean that her gain in Europe was more like 38 to 43 pounds over 94 days. I have a bit of a question about a woman being able to gain 10 or 15 pounds without really being that aware of it, except that I have seen that happen, particularly if the person is athletic and solid but not fat. I think a two pound gain in a month not being noticed is reasonable, particularly if things like Christmas and a trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras were involved. One of the tricks of weigh sneaking on is when you are gaining two pounds in a month after gaining two pounds in a month, followed by gaining two pounds in a month. If your pants aren't too tight and you are not regularly getting on the scales, it can be hard to notice. My weight can fluctuate 2 pounds within a day, depending on what I have eaten. Normally, the two pounds disappears and the reappears, but when it sticks, it becomes the new normal. Personally, this isn't even a two pounds a month thing, but more like two to four pounds a year. Hardly noticeable. But then 25 years later, you realize that you have gained 60 pounds.

Chapter Thirty One For lunch, I made hamburgers and hot dogs, preparing platters of both. There were six of each and I figured that this would include my lunch and enable Collette to take what she felt like. Since the plan was for her to eat her fill, I decided that it should be easier for her to decide what that meant. I also put out the potato salad and macaroni salad, and a big bowl of her favorite spicy chips, as well as sliced tomatoes, onions, lettuce, and condiments. I was careful to include mayonnaise along with ketchup, mustard, and piccalilli. All of the burgers and dogs were already in buns, which I had toasted lightly. Collette had not finished the pint of ice cream so I took what was left and made her a root beer float to drink with lunch. Collette sat down and announced, "I find this hard to understand, but I am drooling. I can’t believe that my body is reacting to food with so much enthusiasm. I think my appestat must be broken." "Is an appestat something that you read about on-line"?" I asked. "No. I just made it up," she explained. "It’s just that I have eaten so much, I wouldn’t expect to be reacting as if I was starving. But I am. This looks so good," she said with her eyes widening. This made me think about the expression that someone’s eyes could be bigger than their stomach. As big as Collette’s eyes were, they couldn’t dwarf her belly, which was already hanging out over her sweats, and she hadn’t started eating. Well, with the exception of breakfast and the 2/3 pint of ice cream. She put a dollop of ketchup and a dollop of mayonnaise on her plate and then took a burger, adding added tomato, onion, and lettuce. Before each bite, she would dip the edge of the burger into the ketchup and mayonnaise. The first burger disappeared quickly and she fixed herself a second. Remembering what had happened with dinner the night before, I quickly took a burger and a hot dog. Almost as quickly as the first, the second burger was gone and Collette took a hot dog, decorating it with mustard and piccalilli. After finishing the hot dog, she drank down more than half the float, in which the ice cream had melted and mixed with the root beer. I reached for a second hot dog and then so did Collette. It was almost as if she was worried that I was going to take too much. There were six of each and there was no way that I figured that Collette could eat it all, although I had intentionally made the burgers on the quarter pounder size, instead of something bigger that would be tough to handle with one hand. After she had finished her second hot dog, Collette asked me a question. "Can I show you something that I found on-line?" she asked. "Sure," I answered, wondering what she wanted to show me about BMI weight charts. "As long as it doesn’t interfere with your lunch," I added, remembering that it was my job to be her feeder. "Don’t worry. I think this is strangely inspirational," she added. Collette got up, accidently bumping the table with her belly, which caused it to jiggle and her to giggle. She got her laptop and brought it back to the table. "I was researching weight gain and I came across several interesting sites," she explained. I moved my chair so that I could look at the screen with her, anticipating something scientific about the dangers of gaining weight, or maybe something really about weight loss. Instead, I suddenly saw the banner for Curvage and my heart jumped into my throat. Had my secret been discovered, was my first thought. "I can explain," I started. Collette turned to me with a quizzical expression and asked, "Explain what?" I tried to recover with, "Well, anything that you have questions about." Collette shook it off and started showing me the Curvage site that SHE had discovered. She showed me posts by a woman who seemed to be into the feeding thing, but kept bouncing up and down the scale. She had been over 200 pounds, but then lost back to around 160 and now, two years later was back up over 200 pounds. What made the story interesting is that she did not want to be thinner. Instead of the typical story about somebody having difficulty maintaining weight loss, this was a story about someone having a difficult time maintaining weight gain. The reasons for her loss were social pressure, her husband not really being into the gaining thing, and health concerns. The reason for her weight gain was a desire to be fatter. She went by the name ChubbyBunny and had lots of photos posted of herself at various weights. Collette explained that one of the things that she found interesting was that she thought ChubbyBunny looked attractive at all of the different weights. She was clearly fat when she was over 200 pounds, but looked good. I agreed with Collette that ChubbyBunny was a beautiful woman in all of her posts, but I said that I wished she was willing to lift the camera to be able to see her whole face. All of her pictures were careful to not show her eyes. I guessed it was a privacy thing. As I was skimming through the posts trying to make it look like this was the first time that I had seen this, Collette put a couple of large scoops of salads onto her plate and continued eating. She finished what she had served herself and took a big chip scooping in through the mayonnaise before popping it into her mouth. "You know that is going to leave a mark," she expressed. I guess I looked puzzled by her comment, so she pointed to the stretch marks on ChubbyBunny’s love handles and then at her own. "I didn’t realize that I really had stretch marks until I looked at the photos that we took today," she explained. I just leaned over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then Collette changed the screen to one of the Curvage models, Goddess Shar. All I could think of was whether Collette was playing with me. Had she discovered my fetish? Looking at a picture Collette click on, which showed Shar with her big belly sticking out, Collette commented, "I think her body looks a lot like mine, if I were to gain another 20 pounds." I looked at different pictures of Shar and said, "I think you may be an inch or two taller than Shar." "Maybe," Collette answered, "but look at her early pictures, she apparently weighed something like 160 and was very athletic. Then she met some exercise freak and lost more than 30 pounds. Like ChubbyBunny, she really didn’t like her body thinner and, after they broke up, she was glad to get her body back." "Yeah, but then it looks like she’s gained another 40 pounds since then," I remarked. "Okay, so is that good or bad?" Collette asked. "This didn’t happen to Shar," she explained, "This was something that Shar did on purpose. Maybe it was to sell more videos or something, but she seems to be enjoying herself, although I wish she would smile more in her pictures. She recently posted that she was thinking of gaining to 225 or even 250." "That is a hell of a commitment," I said. "There is a really big difference between weighing 130 pounds and 250 pounds." "I am not sure what to make of this," explained Collette, "but I find it interesting. As a woman I get bombarded by a society that says fat is ugly and thin is beautiful. Here I am looking at very attractive women who had rejected that attitude and who are enjoying themselves gaining weight and being fatter. I kept looking at pictures of Shar, who really did have a similarity to Collette. Even at 200 pounds, Shar had a beautifully shaped body. It was just bigger, thicker, and, in my secret taste preference, more attractive. Collette fixed herself another burger, which she ate fairly quickly, given that it was her third plus the two hot dogs and salads. She sat watching me looking at the pictures and then asked, "So what do you think of these women?" I looked at her pushing the rest of that burger in her mouth with one hand, as she reached for another hot dog with the other. "I think they are very attractive," I answered, trying to ignore the fact that I was getting a hard on. Shar always got me hard, but I was also watching Collette feed herself with commitment. "Okay," continued Collette, "but what does that mean to us? I am in the middle of a feeding fest and I am wondering what YOU think." I smiled, but Collette continued before I could say anything, talking with a big bite of her hot dog in her mouth, "I guess I am trying to figure out your appetite, so to speak, for the direction I should be taking. There are several things evident about you," she pointed out. "I know that you really love me. The fact that I have gotten fat doesn’t seem to be interfering with that. And in fact, I don’t think I have ever turned you on as much as I have since I got back with this layer of chub. And, instead of helping me regain control and get me on a strict regime to lose the weight, you are helping me gorge myself." "Well, I want you to be happy," I tried. "You told me that you were curious and you wanted to see what it would be like to be totally full. I have agreed to help, which I wouldn’t have done, if it bothered me in any way. I guess we both need to admit that there is a real difference between my being complacent and accepting the changes to your body and helping you eat to the point of being completely satiated. To be totally honest, " which of course I was not being by keeping my secrets, "I wouldn’t have been surprised if, after last night’s packing you full, you decided to call it off for today. But you woke up this morning and were ready to keep going." "But it also wasn’t as if you were ready to continue stuffing me this morning," Collette answered. "You fed me breakfast, but it was just a normal meal. I was half expecting a kitchen table struggling to hold stacks of pancakes, sausage, and bacon." I swear that it sounded as if Collette mouth had gotten a shot of saliva just mentioning these foods. She was really falling in love with food. "Were you disappointed?" I asked. "No. Not disappointed, but it kind of signaled me that you were trying to keep things reasonable," she explained. "Okay. Full disclosure. I wasn’t sure what you would want to do, so I tried not to overwhelm you," I explained. "But here is the thing, I think you have gotten used to eating a lot so that maybe that breakfast seemed "normal". The Collette that left for Europe may have been able to consume that much, but she would have been stuffed. You scarfed it down without a thought and are now describing it as if it may not have been sufficient for your appetite. Again, full disclosure, I realized that it wasn’t going to put you into a semi-torper, but I thought it could be a slight struggle, particularly given the night before. I thought that there was a chance that you would wake up this morning and not feel like eating anything." "That actually makes sense. So are you saying you have a plan? Tell me what it is, since I do have to admit that this lunch could be impressive, depending on how much of it you are planning to eat," she offered. "I think you are playing with me a little bit," I said. "If you needed clues, I would have thought my putting four additional pints of ice cream into the cart would have been one." "Your right," she conceded, "I guess I am just finding this more interesting than I ever would have thought and I am a little insecure about how it relates to you. I totally appreciate your help, but there is still a part of my brain that is worried that I am grossing you out. What if after you have fed me everything that I want, you decide that I am too fat or disgusting?" she asked, sounding a bit insecure. "That can’t happen," I answered to assure her. "Sure you say that now, but look how my belly is starting to bulge out and I am still eating. It could just happen. Like all of a sudden you would say you were fine with it up until some magic limit that I wasn’t aware of. The weight charts work that way with the difference of one pound changing me from being overweight to being obese. What if there is some one pound limit that you may not even be aware of," she asked, looking like she could start to cry, if I answered it wrong. I actually felt really bad that I was not being totally honest with her, but I also still felt that, if I were to reveal all my secrets, the same could come back at me. I was worried that she could say that she was fine with this as long as it was me discovering something that she wanted to experiment with, but knowing that I have been fascinated by chubby woman since my earliest childhood memories could cause her to just look at me and say, "you are too weird." I mean how twisted did I need to be to get aroused by watching Pigs is Pigs, in which an animated pig character eats to the point of exploding when he cannot resist one more bite. I tamped down whatever thoughts were floating to the surface and got myself under control. "I am totally confident and you should be, too," I told her. "You know that I know myself very well and there is nothing that you should be concerned about. No matter where you go, I will be there with you." "So what is this plan for today," she asked, sounding more confident. Chapter Thirty Two Eric provided a great spread for lunch; a stack of burgers hot dogs all neatly tucked into their toasted buns plus salads and accouterments. My mouth was watering as I moved to the table. I actually felt like I was starving, despite having a belly that felt like it could enter the room a few minutes before the rest of me. As we were eating, I decided to show Eric some of the sites I had found on line that dealt with feeders and positive weight gain. I wanted to see what he thought of the whole thing. I didn’t think I had an agenda, but I started wondering if maybe my subconscious was speaking up. Showing him Curvage seemed to make him really nervous. I started getting worried that I had freaked him out. Still, when he was looking at the pictures of the women on Curvage, he looked more fascinated than appalled. I called his attention to Shar, who is so good looking that I feel awkward saying that she reminds me of myself. The thing that was interesting to me about Shar was how she had intentionally lost weight to satisfy the guy she was with, but then put that weight back on intentionally and enjoyed doing that so much that she went right past her old weight and added another 40 to 50 pounds. The weight that she was starting from was 130, same as I was less than four months ago. Reading her posts, it was had for me to determine how fast she gained, but it seemed like it may have been over a short period of time, like myself. I mentioned how I didn’t even think that it was possible to gain at the rate that I had, going from 130 to 191 - 61 pounds in under four months. That is averaging more than 15 pounds a month. Eric got a funny look on his face an I asked him what he was thinking. "Well, I know that you keep saying 130, but are you sure that is what you weighed in May when you left? Isn't it possible that you were a few pounds more than that?" he asked. "I don't think so. I’m pretty sure I weighed around 130, maybe a few pounds more," I answered. "What are you suggesting?" "Well," he continued like he was trying to tip toe across a mine field, "I’m just thinking that maybe you had gained a few pounds last spring before your trip is all I am saying. I don’t remember the scale being pulled out regularly. So maybe you didn't gain that much in Europe after all, since maybe you a little bit heavier before you left is all I am saying." "Why would I need to weigh myself? What makes you think that I gained before the trip?" I asked, feeling like this whole idea was so left field. "Well," he said still trying to be careful, "remember when you were upset that the dry cleaner shrank a couple of your skirts?" "Yeah?" I responded, wondering if this was maybe possible. "What if you had maybe put on some weight in the months before the trip. Maybe starting around Christmas even. And don't forget we partied hearty for Mardi Gras on our trip to New Orleans," he suggested. "I did like those Po'Boy sandwiches at 2:00 AM after several Hurricane Pains," I smiled. "So, I'm just saying that maybe, if you weren't making it a point to get on the scales, from Christmas to the end of May you could easily have gained a few pounds," he explained. "I do remember that you seemed a little softer and rounder." Thinking of how I had scarfed down those Po'Boys, it was a wonder that I didn't weigh a thousand pounds. "But you didn’t say anything. If you thought I was getting fat, why didn’t you say something?" I said, sounding more angry than I intended. "Okay," he continued slowly, "Your suggesting that, if I noticed that you seemed a little more generous, with your breasts a little rounder, your hips a little fuller, and your waist a little thicker, why didn’t I point this out to you?" "Yeah," I said, still sounding accusatory. "With the exception of my skirts not fitting the way that they had, everything else was comfortable. You should have said something, if you thought I was getting fat." "I don’t think you are being fair," he said defending himself. "The way I see it, I thought maybe you had gained a few pounds - like just a very few, but that wasn’t something that was bothering me in any way shape or form. You know I was always saying t/hat you could gain a few pounds. Why would I want to sound like I was maybe criticizing you for doing something that I was fine with?" "But I always thought that you were saying that like, because I was always under such control, there would be no damage if I happened to gain a pound or two, because I could lose it easily enough. Now your saying you could see I was getting fat, but didn’t want to say anything," I said. I felt like I was an attorney cross examining Eric on the stand. And that is exactly the expression that he had on his face. "I didn’t say that I thought you were getting fat. I’m just saying that maybe you didn’t gain 61 pounds in less than four months. Maybe it was 51 pounds or only 46 pounds," he tried to explain. "So now you are saying that these two or three pounds that were so easy to ignore might have been 10 to 15 pounds? You don’t think I would have noticed gaining 15 pounds?" I challenged him. "Not if it happened over the course of the winter and spring, and, as you said, your clothes were comfortable. 10 pounds evenly distributed over your slender, well conditioned body could be very hard to notice," he suggested. "I’m not even saying that I know that this happened. I am just pointing out that, unless you weighed yourself before you left, you really don’t know exactly how much you gained in Europe. And what difference does it make anyway?" "I am just trying to make sense of this," I answered. "You are suggesting that you may have noticed me gaining 10 or 15 pounds last spring, but didn’t see any reason to mention it. I am just surprised. I would have thought that you would, is all. As you say, what difference does it make now. There is no doubt what I weigh now, or at least what I weighed this morning before stuffing my fat face." "If you are really asking me why I would not tell you if I thought you were gaining a little - an eensy-teensy - very hard to notice - amount of weight last spring, I guess I can tell you. It’s not a secret," he offered. "Please," I asked. "I really liked it. I didn’t see any positive outcome of me pointing it out," he explained. "If I said, ‘hey, Collette, I think your putting on a little - a teensy-weensy - amount of weight, there would have been a very good chance that you would have decided to lose it and I would have missed it. I don’t think you would have acted this way, because you are such a wonderful, mature, beautiful woman, but you could have also gotten mad. There are women that I know who, if I told them that I thought they were putting on weight, would have kicked me in the groin." I had to smile, knowing that if Eric were to tell Emma that he though that she had put on a few pounds, it could be his last words. "You're starting to sound like a used car salesman. Enough with the compliments. So what you are saying is that, when you have told me in the past that I could stand to gain a few pounds, you were actually suggesting that I should do it?" I confirmed. As Eric nodded in agreement, I continued, "And you are actually saying that, when you noticed last spring that I was putting on weight - and 10 to 15 pounds is not eensy-teensy-weensy - you were happy about it; fearing that if you mentioned it, I would decide to lose it?" "That is correct, your honor," he replied. "Last spring, I thought that you were looking great and I guess, if you were to have asked me what I thought, I would have told you that I never thought that you looked more beautiful and sexier," he answered having regained his confidence. "I did notice that you had put on a few pounds and I thought that was great. I didn’t necessarily think that you were unaware that you had gained. It’s not like you need my permission. And before you left, when was the last time that you remember standing on a scale?" he asked. I had to tell him that I really didn’t remember. My weight always seemed to be steady and I had weighed 130 for so long, I just assumed that was what a weighed before I left. "So you are suggesting that my being chubbier is not a negative thing for you," I asked. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Isn’t it a bit revealing how I have been feeding you the last couple of days?" I guess I just thought you were accommodating me, in a quite wonderful way," I explained. I questioned Eric about whether there could be a chance that, as enthusiastic as he was at the moment, there could be some line or limit that, if I crossed it, I had gone too far. "How were you so sure that you would be happy with me if I kept gaining?" I asked. "What if you had seen me at the airport and been shocked by my appearance. That could have happened." He assured me that could not happen, but how he could really know. This was all so new to both of us and I was the one putting it in his face, up-front and personal. I was amazed that he had been able to handle it so smoothly and even with encouragement. After all, here I was, elbows deep in the stacks of barbecued burgers and hot dogs that he had cooked for me. My appetite continued to shock me. How could it not be daunting for Eric, as well. At one point, I realized how far gone I was into this feeding thing when Eric reached for a hot dog and I quickly grabbed another one for myself. Without thinking. I was acting like he was taking my food. Six burgers and six hot dogs on the table when this meal began and I was worried that I was going to go hungry. So greedy. What was wrong with me? Still his evidence that I didn’t need to worry was that he was the one who had put all of this food on the table. I wondered if there was more to it. It also looked like my round belly, which seemed to be encroaching towards the table with each bite, was turning him on. It looked like he was trying to conceal that he was getting a hard on watching me eat. How weird that fatness could be a turn on. I wondered whether he could actually have some latent and undiscovered interests in this whole feeder/feedee scene. I decided to taunt him with my seemingly insatiable appetite and see how he reacted. "Are you going to have any of the macaroni salad," I asked him, sounding as if I was hoping that he would say no. "No, that is all for you," he answered, as if on cue. I reached for the container and, instead of placing some on my plate, I started to eat directly from the container using the big serving spoon. Eric sat there with his mouth open, watching as I proceeded to eat all of the macaroni salad with the serving spoon. I was trying to make it all look effortless, which was starting to require some good acting, since I had already had three burgers and three hot dogs and a healthy serving of both the macaroni salad and the potato salad, along with chips dipped in mayonnaise. Oh, and don’t forget the root beer float on top of 2/3 pints of ice cream. "I am going to need something to drink. I think I need some diet coke. I want something that will help me burp," I explained. As Eric got up to get me the drink from the kitchen, I asked him, "What about the potato salad?" "That is all for you, too," he answered. "Great!," I responded, as I started shoveling that into my mouth with the serving spoon. I must have looked like such a piggy, but he seemed more impressed than grossed out. After he was in the other room and couldn’t see me, I sat back for a moment and tried to stretch to give my belly some relief. I waited for him to come back to the table with the glass of diet coke before I started shoveling in the potato salad again. I was performing for him. With that container now empty, I sat back and undid the button on my size 14 jeans, dramatically unzipping my pants allowing my belly to swell forward, taking its rightful place as another planet in the solar system. It really did look globular. If I got a tattoo, it could be the northern hemisphere. "How are you feeling," Eric asked. "I am starting to feel a bit fullish," I answered. "After we finish this, it will be a while before I am going to be ready for lunch," I joked. He looked surprised. "Oh, was this supposed to be lunch?" I toyed with him "I don’t think we need to concern our selves with labels," was his response. "Come on, now" Eric encouraged, getting into the spirit of the moment. "You’ve got another hot dog and two burgers to go." He seemed to be stepping up to his responsibility of being my feeder. I pretended to be inspired by his encouragement. I took a couple of deep gulps of the diet coke and fixed myself another burger and another hot dog. I figured to give him the show of two fisted eating. After a couple of bites from each, I felt like I was hitting a wall. I was starting to sweat and I could feel the food in my stomach arguing. Suddenly, I erupted with a huge burp. We both sat there startled. Actually, it is disrespectful to call it a burp. It was a full on belch that was loud and long. It was unintended and I felt a bit embarrassed. It really was pretty gross. "Sorry about that," was all that I could offer. At this point, I was sitting back in the chair with my belly proud to the world. Anyone walking in would have immediately assumed that I has seriously pregnant. Eric got up and walked around to stand behind me and started massaging my shoulders. This actually helped, as if eating so much had trapped tension in my neck and shoulders. I was able to slowly finish both the hot dog and the burger. With my hands empty, I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. I realized that I really was so full that my stomach was affecting how deep a breath I could take. "There is one more burger to go," Eric prodded me. For some reason, during this meal, I had transformed from being concerned that he would think that I am a pig to trying to impress him with my ability to eat. I was sincerely tired of the taste of hamburger, but I didn’t want to admit defeat. I came up with a deflection, "I left that burger for you as penance for eating your dinner last night. "Besides, eating that burger could delay me getting my dessert. I am sure that you have something special planned." "Do you seriously feel like dessert," Eric asked sounding somewhat amazed, as he fixed the last burger for himself. "Of course," I answered, "but maybe after a breather." "There is something that I want to do first," Eric explained. He went into the bedroom and came back with my container of Palmers Coco Butter. I had this to protect my skin from excessive sunlight or wind burn, but it was also recommended for preventing or taming stretch marks. "Can you sit on a stool?" he asked. I mean was he seriously questioning whether or not I could sit on a stool in my condition? Or maybe he was concerned for the poor stool. "Sure," I answered. "It would be me bending or moving quickly that could be a problem and I will be gentle with the stool." Take off your tee shirt," he instructed me. As I started to try to do this, I realized that even the twisting to take off the shirt was a bit of a challenge. "I thought you said no bending would be required," I complained. "Oh, sorry about that," he said. "Can you put your arms straight up?" he asked. "I will try," I answered. I was actually serious. I was starting to realize that I really was quite full and not completely confident in what I could do. I was able to put my arms up and Eric peeled the tee shirt off of me. I was then sitting naked from the waist up. "What do you need me to do now?" I asked. "Just relax," he instructed. He then proceeded to gently massage my body with the Palmers cream. He worked it into my skin. I was surprised that, as he pushed into my bloated body, slowly and carefully, it actually helped me feel a lot better. It seemed to loosen things up. He massaged my belly by delicately pushing though the blubber and manipulating the muscles that were struggling from the assault. I burped again, which definitely felt good. "Stand up and take off your sweats," he directed. At this point, he had control over me. I stood up and pushed the sweats down over my hips and ass and they dropped to the floor so I could step out of them. "What now, I asked. "How about standing facing the stool, with your legs spread apart so you feel comfortable without any strain, while you lean forward with your hands on the stool," he described. I followed his specific instructions and he went to work rubbing the cream into my hips, ass, and thighs. Standing behind me, he reached around and massaged my fupa, working his way up onto my belly. Taking my lower belly in his two hands, he very gently manipulated me with his fingers to that he was literally massaging my guts. After he was done with the massage and I was feeling more comfortable, he suggested that we do a few more photos. "You are looking much rounder than you were this morning and I think it would be fun to record your progress," he suggested. I was feeling so zoned out, he probably could have convinced me to do anything. He asked me to sit on the stool and relax. He got his camera and started taking photos. I tried to move around a bit, but it was easier for him to move around me to capture the shots that he wanted by getting low. I could imagine how photos from that angle would emphasize my belly. "How do I look," I asked. "Ripe," he answered.