Dani's "Diet"

[Enumerated_Bob]

Dani's "Diet"

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Went to the mall today. Saw Dani Taylor for the first time since graduation. More accurately, she saw me. Tackled me outside of JC Penney’s, actually.

*WOOMPH* “DAVID!”

It took me a second to recover from the impact. Dani is kind of a. . . Well, not to be insensitive, but let’s say she’s a ‘larger’ girl, and leave it at that. Okay, that’s an understatement; Dani’s straight up fat. I’m thinking she was about 170, 180 pounds at graduation, which I know, doesn’t sound like a lot, and on most girls it’s NOT, but Dani’s not a tall girl. Calling her ‘not tall’ is still overstating her height a bit; She’s not even five foot; she’s ALMOST four ten. She could have lost 60 pounds and still be overweight.

Anyway, it was kind of a lot of weight to have slamming into your unsuspecting side. I saw it was her, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t know how to respond. I just kind of looked at her blankly for a few seconds before she punched me in the side, hard, like she always did. Then she grinned, “Stop staring at my tits!”

Just to be clear, I wasn’t staring at her tits; that’s just an old inside joke. When I say I wasn’t staring at her tits, I wasn’t FOCUSING IN on them. A girl her height, with tits her size, it’s almost impossible to have a conversation and NOT be sucked in to the depths of her cleavage. She laughed as I apologized, “Uh huh, yeah you weren’t lookin, I know you!” Then she stepped back and did a twirl, “So?” She looked up at me expectantly, “Whatcha think?”

I hesitated. She was obviously looking for compliments. But I wasn’t sure what she was looking to be complimented ON. She didn’t LOOK much different from the last time I saw her, which was a good thing, I mean, Dani’s gotta be a 9, maybe a 9.5. The only thing different was. . . maybe her proportions? She didn’t seem SMALLER, exactly, but her fat was spread out differently than it was the last time I saw her, so I took a guess, “Uh, nice! How much weight have you lost?”

God, I hated myself for responding like that. “Have you lost weight’ is the easiest and safest thing to say in situations like this, but I happen to love my ladies large and lardy, so weight LOSS is almost always a bad thing in my book. But my preferences aside, Dani’s a friend; she’s happy, I’m happy. And she definitely was happy. She giggled a bit, “Fifteen pounds!” She was almost wriggling in excitement, “I’m down to 159!”

That kind of enthusiasm is catchy, and the way her wriggling set her to jiggling was. . . more than pleasurable. I smiled, “Take a step back, let me look at you.”

She did, and I looked. I examined the damage this damnable diet had been doing to her beautifully blubbery body. It wasn’t actually too terrible. Fifteen pounds. . . Well, if she HAS lost fifteen pounds, she must have put on at LEAST twenty between graduation and starting the diet because she sure wasn’t looking thinner. Maybe even a bit bigger.

But that could have been because of what she had on. I got the feeling looking at her; that she’d bought this outfit earlier on in her diet so she’d have a goal size to get down to, so once she fit into them, she’d have visible proof she’d hit a goal. I ALSO got the feeling she’d put a lot of effort squeezing that flabby, overly curvaceous body into them so she could SAY they fit even though she was still more than a few pounds away from that goal.

She HAD to be in pain from the way those khaki shorts were cutting into her sides; I can just imagine the red mark she’ll have at the end of the day. The seams looked like they were holding, but only just, and panty lines were a definite yes. Her shirt was an old-looking, low-cut, midriff T-shirt that wasn’t entirely able to cover the blubbery folds at Dani’s sides.

Speaking of those blubbery folds, she definitely didn’t look like fifteen pounds thinner than she had the last time I saw her, but I knew well enough not to say that on fear of death.  Heck, it almost looked like certain parts of her had gotten BIGGER. . .

The thing about Dani is, her body normally carries fat in a sort of sexy, overblown hourglass shape. Big, bouncy boobies, a round fat ass and hips, with just enough of a belly in between to keep things interesting. That’s how it was before she went to school, anyway. From the way she was looking today, her hourglass seems to be running south.

Her tits were still there, still huge. What did she used to say she was. . . an E cup? Yeah, not sure about that, but I AM sure they haven’t shrunk at all. More the opposite, her shirt was tight enough over them you could see how just barely, they were bubbling up over the tops of the cups. And if you could drag your eyes away from the twins, her pudgy paunch was hanging out a little below, in plain view.

None of this padding up top was anything more than I’d seen her with before, though; Dani’s never been anything less than a fat cow in all the years I’ve known her. Down below was the only visible difference; she had enough junk in that trunk to justify designating those shorts a junkyard. TOO MUCH ass for that fabric to handle safely.

She looked up smiling, waiting for my response, but I didn’t know what to say exactly, so I stood there and nodded my head, smiling. After a few seconds, I had an idea, “How about we head over to the food court and catch up?”

She hesitated, “Well, I already ate at an Arby’s on the way over here, but. . .” She shrugged, “Eh, whatever, that was like, three hours ago and I haven’t seen you in ages. Sure, lead the way!”

And so I did. It wasn’t a long way, but long enough for Dani to get a little out of breath. I was getting the hint she hadn’t lost this weight through exercise. Not that this was my first clue. If anything, it looked like what muscle mass she used to have in her arms and legs had turned to pure, squishy flab through months of inactivity. The way her entire body was set to jiggling with every step, you knew straight up that this was a girl who spent every minute of every day doing whatever she could to avoid any kind of physical exertion. Which is MASSIVELY hot, don’t get me wrong, but as a friend who knew she was trying to lose weight, I was going to have to ask her about that.

First, though, we were at the food court, “Look around, whatever you want, just ask, I’m buying!” I was feeling generous. Plus, if I’m paying, she’ll be that much more likely to go off her diet, at least for today. If previous experience was anything to go by, she was only a free all-you-can-eat buffet and a few words of encouragement away from eating enough to tranquilize a hippo.

And previous experience proved itself accurate, my GOD. Unless this unspecified and questionably effective diet was designed with the intention of making this already hefty woman even fatter, she went WAAAY off it. As we sat in the food court talking, she had to pause after every few words to shovel down more food. While we were there, she had two whole Big Macs and an extra large order of fries, then asked if I could go get her some ice cream from Dairy Queen. If I could get ice cream for her. She was feeling a little ‘too full to move, and the DQ as soooo far away!’

I was happy to oblige, of course. I took that excruciatingly long 200ft hike, came back with an Oreo Brownie Earthquake, because she hadn’t specified what kind of ice cream, and it looked stupid fattening on the pictures, all these brownie chunks and puddles of syrup adding to what already had to be a decently high calorie count. She didn’t complain when I brought it back, but I think her conscience must have been bothering her because she pointed out that this was just going to have to be ‘an unscheduled cheat day.’

This is my mind talking, but from her puffy appearance and ability to pack away ridiculous amounts of food, I’d guess that these kind of ‘unscheduled cheat days’ happen on a regular basis, adding to the three cheat days she already HAS scheduled for the week!

Somehow, we got onto the topic of how she got onto this diet in the first place, and that was an interesting story. “Okay, so you remember how fat I was when I left to go to school in the fall, right? Well, I actually got even FATTER when I was at school, believe it or not.” I could believe it. Easily. “Then, a few months ago, I went to a doctor, and he weighed me and measured me, and he said to me, he said, ‘Dani. You weigh 174 pounds. For a woman your height, that makes you MORBIDLY OBESE, now here’s what you can start doing to lose weight’ and I actually decided to stick to one of them, and as of three weeks ago, I’ve gotten down to 159, which is NO LONGER morbidly obese, so wooo!”

Nope, not MORBIDLY obese, Dani, just VERY obese, congratulations on that step down in that porker pyramid! A SMALL step down, she was DEFINITELY still on that pyramid, and pretty high up, considering she said all this while wolfing down a big mac with the veracity of a starving lion. Yeah, a very small, very TEMPORARY step down, judging by the way she was pouring out of that outfit and the way she was tearing through those burgers. I got the feeling she’d been celebrating her no-longer-morbid obesity for the entire three weeks, bringing her almost back to where she’d started.

I asked her about her exercise routine, and wouldn’t you know it, she has exactly none.  “I should probably get one started, I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve put back on at least a pound or two since my last weigh-in, but I’m just too lazy!” ‘A pound or two.’ Ooh, mama, I think you’ve gained back more than one or two pounds. I’m thinking you’ve gained back most or all of it, and that thick, meaty ass you got bulging over the sides of your chair agrees with me!

She swallowed the last bite of her sundae and let out a heavy sigh, almost a grunt. Then she blushed, “Um, David, could you, uh, look away for just a second? I just need to do something. . .”

I looked away, but in the corner of my eye, I could still see her undoing her pants button, and I definitely could HEAR the sigh of relief she let out as soon as she’d loosened her waistband. I looked at her for a second and she knew I knew. She flushed even redder, “I’m sorry, it’s just, you know how when you eat too much, and your pants are too tight, and you just HAVE to unbutton them?” My straight face fell apart, and she started laughing too, “Oh, god, I sound like such a fatty when I say that! Shut up, you know you do it too!”

“I didn’t say anything!” She just glared at me, a half-smile on her face.

She (awkwardly) put her arms over her chest and pouted, “Shut up and get me more ice cream!”

She was OBVIOUSLY joking, I KNEW that, but as a man who loves fat girls, I did what I had to do. I walked over to the Dairy Queen stall and came back to an outraged Dani carrying a large cookie dough Blizzard. “I WASN’T SERIOUS!” I just handed it over to her without saying anything else. She looked at it longingly for a few seconds, then caved in. “God, David, this is going to completely undo everything I’ve worked for, I swear I’m going to wake up even fatter than I was before I went on this stupid diet, and it’s all your fault!” Yes, Dani, this ONE MORE massively fattening dessert, THAT’S what’s going to undo all the weight you’ve lost. Not the burgers, or the fries, or that OTHER dessert you just finished a little while ago, those aren’t going to attach themselves to your love handles!

That’s what I was thinking, but all I said, “And yet, you keep eating more.” I think this one sentence sums up Dani’s entire relationship with food pretty well. 

“That’s because. . . well. . . uh. . .” Dani couldn’t seem to think of anything to say, so she just kept eating, squinting her eyes in what I’m sure would have been a menacing fashion if her cheeks weren’t puffed up by a mouthful of cookie dough ice cream and years of overindulging. When she was done, she leaned back with her hands rubbing her soft, domed belly, “NO MORE.”

I laughed at that, and she laughed with me. We chatted a bit longer, nothing interesting enough to talk about here, then we said our goodbyes, she cursed at me for ruining her diet, because clearly it’s MY fault she’s as fat as ever, and we went our separate ways. I hope I see her sometime soon, see how thin she’s gotten from her diet. I’m thinking she’ll have lost negative something pounds, maybe even less! Maybe she’ll even diet her way back to morbid obesity, if she’s not there already.

Ha, if she is, I’ll hear about it next time I see her, I can imagine it now, ‘IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU KEPT BRINGING ME FOOD AND NOW IT’S ALL STUCK TO MY ASS!”

Yeah, that sounds about right.

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[Guest temporary]

Wow. Please continue.

[Enumerated_Bob]

Wow. Please continue.

As you wish

[Enumerated_Bob]

So. . .  today was an interesting day. Much unexpected.

Started when I saw Dani again. Mall, same as last time, only in the parking lot, as we were both headed to our cars.

I actually saw her first this time, so she didn’t smash into me at her own not-actually-very-fast-but-oh-my-god-fun-to-watch full speed, a fact my ribs are thankful for. On second thought, it wouldn’t have been as bad this time. She definitely looked like she’d be slower. Not to mention softer. Before I go on, I should specify, it’s been six months since last time we saw each other. And I don’t think I properly got the idea of just how big Dani is. Even then, she was the kind of woman who took up more than on she’s. . . put on a few pounds in that time. A few implies less than ten, so maybe I should say she’s gotten. . . a LOT fatter? That sounds more accurate. In any case, I can say for a fact now, I LIKE the way Dani’s diet has shaped her figure out!

I sneaked up behind her, “DANI!” And grabbed her from behind, picking her up off the ground. Okay, just saying it like that, it sounds REEEAALLY creepy, but I swear, it’s just another long-running thing between us. I couldn’t help but notice; I couldn’t get her as far off the ground as normal. There was some ‘unseen’ force weighing her down. I put unseen in quotes because she was CLEARLY being weighed down by all that sweet, jiggly sexy she’d packed on. She squealed like she always does when I do this, put on her ‘angry face,’ which is freaking adorable, then punched me in the side when I put her down. Again, business as usual.

“GOD, give me a heart attack, why don’t you!” She punched me again. Her face was still bright red as she scolded me, “You should SERIOUSLY stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself one of these day!” ‘One of these days’ is getting close, I think.

I rolled my eyes and lied through my teeth, “Yeah right, toothpick, like picking up you is a workout!” I think I was more than a little flushed, too. As obvious it was she’d gotten fatter, I wasn’t expecting her to weigh as much as she did. I continued to lie, “Besides, I think that diet you were on did something! Let me look at you, how much have you lost?” From my struggle to pick her up, that diet DEFINITELY did do something, but it sure as hell WASN’T make her skinnier.

I took a step back to look at her progress, and sure enough, she’d puffed up something sexy. Definitely back in the ‘morbidly obese’ section of the huge and heavy hotty hierarchy. Her clothes weren’t as revealing this time around, but Dani’s never been the modest type, so for her, less-revealing still is very effective at showing off how huge she’s gotten.

She wasn’t wearing the same style of hot pants she’d been wearing last time, but yoga pants that clung close to every dimple on her chunky thunder thighs weren’t exactly a big step forward in propriety. The rolls of pudge she had hanging over her waistband last time were still there, a bit thicker now.

It was her chest this time, where most of the progress seemed to have been made. Last time, you’ll remember I said her weight seemed to be shifting south. Well apparently all the real-estate there is taken, because hello, tits! Now Dani’s always been, shall we say, gifted, in her chestal regions, but they’re looking PARTICULARLY luscious now she’s porked out completely.

Unlike last time, her shirt didn’t look like it was INTENDED to show her midriff. Well, the maker’s intentions were thwarted because that shirt was NOT big enough to cover the sheer amount of woman that Dani had gorged her way to becoming. It covered her belly button, yes, but juuust barely, and you could clearly make out the impression of it, but below that, the bottom curve of her belly was peaking out into view, hanging down, every wobble on display for the world.

Dani harrumphed and began trudging down the pavement, sending her blubbery body bouncing beautifully with every footfall. She started berating me in that voice she always did where she was SORT of irritated, but she wasn’t serious about it, “Well, no thanks to YOU, I went home from here last time and weighed myself to find out I’d gained BACK 17 pounds, but I’ve lost all that since then!”

Wait. . . What? Yeeaah, lost it all, my ass. It looked more like those seventeen pounds had taken up residence on her fantastic rack and overly-fluffy ass and brought along ten of their friends to keep them company!

Was she saying she weighed the same now as she did last time we met? Because unless my eyesight was going bad, I was seeing something totally different.  “Oh. . . So when was the last time you weighed yourself?”

She paused in her stride to think for a second, which was proof enough it had been way too long, but finally she settled on “Four? Four and a half ago? I’m not sure exactly, but I DO know that I was down to 161, and that’s still a good drop!”

I wanted to say yes, it was fantastic, let’s go for pizza, but I couldn’t. “Why haven’t you weighed yourself since then?” I felt like I knew, it was because she knew she’d trashed her diet in the most extreme way possible, and the look of guilt in her eyes was proof enough.

Dani and I, we may not have talked much lately, but that’s not because we weren’t good friends. We were GREAT friends. A little out of touch, yeah, but still great friends, and I couldn’t just sit there and let her lie to herself like this. I had to fight against every instinct in my chubby chasing body that was telling me to not say anything, to just let her go on, eating her way to immobility. I had to warn her about how big she REALLY was. “Dani? Uh, please don’t be upset or anything, but tell me honestly, are you really sticking to your diet?”

Immediately, a part of me started screaming at myself for this. Why did I go here instead of the light-hearted teasing kind of back and forth we always had, WHY did I bring it to this point? A small part of me was doing that, the larger part of me was aware of just how close Dani was, the upset look on her round, pretty face as she admitted to herself that her ‘weight loss’ was bullshit, and she was fatter than ever, and lying to others about her size didn’t make her look any less obese.

She didn’t say anything, but her eyes filled up with tears as she shook her head no. I pulled her in close for a hug and I could her tears soaking through my thin T-shirt. An idea struck me. We were almost at my car, “Dani? Dani, it’s okay. I’m right here. Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

[Enumerated_Bob]

It was a slow walk, the last three spaces to my car, me comforting a sobbing Dani more than walking, trying to focus on making her feel better, not on how much her much my hands were sinking into her body. It took a while, but we made it, and Dani got in without arguing. That makes it sound easy. Dani’s no longer the kind of woman who fits easily into the passenger seat of most four-door sedans. It took a little wriggling, and I was happy to help her squish her fat ass through the door.

As I started the car, she got ahold of herself enough to ask, “Where are we *hic* going?”

I just said the first thing to come to my head, “My place. I’ve got something that might make you feel better.” I reached over and pulled a box of tissues out of the glove box.

It was a short drive, thank god. If it had been longer, she might have started asking questions I didn’t know how to answer, which would have been literally any questions at all. Everything about this was coming straight from the gut, no thinking ahead of time.

I had to help her getting out of the car, but that wasn’t even as tough as getting her in. She’d figured out that her hips were just too wide now for the door, so she slipped out sideways. A few minutes later, she was in my living room, her hugely and wonderfully overly-plumpened body filling up every inch of my old leather armchair. My feeder impulse told me to give her something to eat, but everything considered, that didn’t seem like the best move. I vanished into the bathroom, thinking quickly.

I moved some things around and called back out to Dani, “Okay, come here.” She didn’t exactly jump up in excitement; I think she knew where this was headed. I walked out and grabbed her arm, helping to pull her soft, heavy body up from the chair and led her into the bathroom. I walked her to the middle of the floor, where I’d set the scale beside a full-body mirror. Everything so far fit to my last-second, probably-terrible-but-why-not-let’s-do-it-anyway plan. What I said next, though, didn’t.

“Okay, Dani, get down to your underwear.” I don’t know where that came from, or what possessed me to say it, I was as surprised as anyone. Except maybe Dani, she was pretty surprised, too.  I thought quickly, “To get an accurate weighing, like they do at the doctor’s.”

She seemed a little hesitant, but then she began stripping down. First, her top came off and from the amount of breast flesh she had bulging out of her bra on all sides, it was clear she needed to move up a cup size, maybe two. She adjusted herself, packing what she could back in, looking at her reflection nervously, then she stopped for a second, and you could see in her eyes she was judging herself for letting herself get so freaking huge.

She grimaces and moved on to peeling her yoga pants slowly down, over her thick, gelatinous thighs, every jerk sending ripples reverberating over her meaty middle. Every few seconds, she had to pause and dig her underwear out from her deep ass crack, only for them to be swallowed up once more by her hugely fat ass as soon as she shifted her weight.

At last, she stood there, in front of the scale, wearing only an extremely inadequate pair of ‘full-cover’ panties and an undersized lacy bra. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. In my defense, there was a goddamn FERTILITY GODDESS standing in front of me, busting out of her very much plus-sized underwear on all sides. There was a lot to take in. I noticed her chin was finally starting to double up, and I had to admire how, even now, when her face was all splotchy and red from tears, you could still tell she had a natural beauty about her.

But her face didn’t hold my attention for long. There was a lot of Dani to ogle, and I mean a LOT. There was the way her sides formed multiple rolls, and the surprisingly slight splattering of cellulite across her massive ass cheeks. There was the way her gut hung out in front, not round and full-looking, the way it was after a big stuffing like the last time I saw her, but flabby and hanging down over her waistband more than popping out in front.  And of course, her biggest attraction, her wide hips and ass cheeks, rippling as she fidgeted nervously.

This was the most exposed I’d ever seen Dani. She’d always been proud of her size, loved her body, and definitely wasn’t afraid to show it off whenever possible, but she always put some kind of effort into staying decently covered up. Even at the beach, her bikinis were always full-coverage, and even though it looked like this underwear was SUPPOSED to be full-coverage, they hadn’t been for probably twenty pounds now. And that nervous fidgeting. . . It was a sight to see.

As she stood there, with the results of her continuous gluttony and laziness staring us both in the face, looking at her oversized and overexposed body in the mirror and thinking how disgusting she’d gotten, I was staring at her in the very ample flesh thinking of the disgusting things I’d do to her if I had the chance.

She was the one who broke out of the trance first, accidentally kicking the scale when she tried to step on it. It was the clatter that brought me back to the real world, where a gorgeous fatty stood on a bathroom scale, trying without success to see over her perfect rack just how bad the news was, to find out in numbers exactly how absolutely massive a cow she’d become.

I was kind of paralyzed for a few seconds, just staring at Dani’s belly bunching up into rolls as she tried in vain to lean forward far enough to see the numbers. Trying. And failing, by a long shot. She was at LEAST ten pounds from that kind of flexibility. But as much as I wanted to just freeze time and stay forever in that moment, I had to help her out.

I kneeled down and took a second to focus on the numbers and not the sexy woman so close beside me. When I finally pulled myself together and saw the number, I half didn’t want to say it. I wanted to lie and tell it wasn’t that bad, but I couldn’t lie to her, even in this state, “One. . . One ninety two. . .” I was a little worried for a second, those 192 pounds were going to come collapsing down on my head in shock and horror, but they didn’t, and I stood up, grabbing her by the shoulders.

She squeezed me back, and the tears began rolling down her fat face once again. As she cried, I tried to comfort her, “Hey. . . Hey, now, beautiful. . . It’s okay. . .”

Her sobs got louder, “NO IT’S NOT!” She practically shrieked, “I’M A TOTAL BLIMP” she paused, then sobbed quietly, “n’ I’m  a total COW, n’ I’m disgusting, n’ no one’ll ever. . .” her voice broke and she couldn’t say anything else.

I shushed her, “No, you’re not, you’re gorgeous.” I got the sense this was something that had been building up for a long time now, even though she gave the impression she didn’t care. Now that dam was breaking and she was pouring out. I did all I could to help; I kept reassuring her, wrapped my arm around her soft waist and got her to stand. I walked her into the living room where I sat her down on the couch. “Just sit here a second, I’ll be right back.”

I went into the kitchen and began brewing some tea. In my experience, there’s nothing quite like a nice, warm drink to calm a person down.

She seemed to have gotten ahold of herself, if only a little, when I came back into the living room. She wasn’t sobbing loudly anymore, at least. She was. . . playing with her fat, it looked like. Not in a happy way, mind you, it was kind of a sad, squeezing and mournful massaging of her flabby figure, like she was remembering every piece of pizza, every ice cream sundae. She took the tea from me gladly when I held it out. “Thanks. . .”

She sounded bad, broken almost. “You okay?” Stupid question. NO she’s not okay, but I really didn’t know what to say.

She breathed in deeply, “Not really. I mean, I just found out I gained more than THIRTY pounds and I was ON A DIET. I’m never going to be anything but a hippo. . .”

She started breaking up again, and somehow I knew what to do. I gave her shoulders a quick squeeze and stood up, squaring my shoulders and spoke to her directly, “Dani. Stop doing this to yourself. You are NOT a hippo. You are a beautiful , and oh my GOD, SEXY, woman.” That caught her attention. Sexy? I paused to let that sink in, “Dani, I’m going to be honest with you, no, you’re NOT a skinny stick figure, but you’ve gotta understand, that’s OKAY. MORE than okay, you are by FAR the sexiest woman I have ever seen. You’re not a twig, no, you have a body, you have tits, and oh my GOD, do you have an ass. You have all that sexy, and more! It is NOT a bad thing to be big, GET THAT OUT OF YOUR HEAD. It’s not disgusting. Dani Taylor, you are 192 pounds of pure woman, 192 pounds of pure sexy, and you need to accept that.”

She stopped completely after I said that. Just, froze for a second. I did, too. I was more than a bit terrified of what was coming. I just confessed my lust for Dani out of nowhere, and I really had no clue what to expect. I didn’t exactly have any previous experience with this kind of confession. There was complete silence as she tried to think of how to respond. In the end, she didn’t say anything; she just looked down at herself and grabbed a convenient chunk of chub.

A second later, a look came over her, like she was about to tell me off, call me a big, fat liar and just generally bite my head off, but then. . . .

She looked me over, this weirdly thoughtful expression on her face. A few seconds later, she started playing with her fat again, in the sort of way she was when I had first walked in before. Only. . . not the same way. It wasn’t a sad, despondent sort of fiddling. It was almost. . . almost like she was intrigued by her pot belly, curious about exactly how soft she’d gotten. She didn’t seem disgusted, it was an exploration of her body, like she was seeing for the first time just HOW soft she was, noticing for the first time, what all those big macs and ice cream sundaes had done to her plush physique.

I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but I was sure glad she’d stopped crying. Then she stood up, and I was sure she was going to get dressed, leave, and never speak to me again. But. . . No. . .

She walked straight to the mirror and just stood there, looking herself over. She looked a second time in the mirror, only she wasn’t just looking. She started running her hands along her sides, digging them in just a bit, slowly at first, getting a feel for how soft her entire body was, how squishy, testing just how thick this layer of fat was, then speeding up, shaking it around, watching it continue moving after her hands had stopped. It was hypnotizing.

She turned to the side to get a view of her stomach. She stood straight and sucked it in, with little to show for it, then relaxed it. She gave it a pinch- more than a few inches, no surprises there. She grabbed a handful, easy. She shook it a bit and grimaced a tiny bit when it continued jiggling. She leaned forward, feeling the flab bunch up, forming rolls. It was here I noticed her look over at me to see how I was responding to her display of obesity.

Apparently she could tell how turned on I was, because she didn’t stop there. She stood back up, and twisted a little around, getting a full view of her enormous backside. She grabbed her right cheek and saw how small her hand was in comparison. She swayed from side to side, and the rhythm of the motion. . . oh my god, I cannot communicate how sexy she was at that moment. As a finale, she gave it a small slap, but even a small slap on the ass of a woman as fat as Dani was like shaking a big bowl of Jell-o, moving in waves across the expanse of her ass.

It was fascinating to watch. Looking at her face, which was difficult do to EVERYTHING ELSE HANGING OUT, she looked not only not disgusted, she almost seemed to. . . enjoy it? Suddenly a theory- all those memories of her in high school, especially senior year, the way she would squash her CLEARLY too-fat-for-that ass and tits into decent-but-only-just-barely clothes that kept everything IN but left it all plain to see, and the way she would always find excuses to show off her breasts, squeezing them together and bragging about how fat her ass was compared to her waist. Yeah, that’s right, she didn’t brag about how skinny her waist was, she actually bragged about her fat ass. But. . . she knew she wasn’t SUPPOSED to like being fat, so she didn’t LET herself admit to it . . . But now. . .

Then she stopped. Sort of. She kept on kneading her doughy flesh, but she seemed to be doing it unconsciously, as she walked back to the couch and sat down. I followed, hypnotized by the rise and fall of her hips, and probably drooling a little. “So. . . you were being honest.” I was still in a bit of a trance, but I could nod mindlessly, “You actually find. . . this. . . sexy.” She grabbed her belly with both hands and squeezed, her hands sinking a few inches into her spare tire. She paused, and it looked like she wanted to say something.

My GOD, yes. I was still in the slack-jawed, not fully capable of conversation stage, so all I could manage was a numb sort of nod, and she must have understood because finally, she broke into a small smile. But she was still hesitant, “But. . . Well it’s just. . . like what happened here, I was trying to LOSE weight, but I just got fatter. Pretty much the chance of me not getting even fatter is the same as me magically floating up into the sky, so, I have to know, before we go any further. . . What if I get even fatter than I already am?”

I answered honestly, “I’d want you more than ever.”

She smiled, and her stomach growled. Loudly. “God I’m hungry, you want to order pizza or go out for MacDonald’s?”

This might just be the start of a beautiful thing. . .

[Guest temporary]

You have a gift. Please continue to use it.

[todd1841]

Absolutely superb, the best story I've read in ages.

[inshenoka]

Wow. This is my first ever actual post on this site, but I just have to say that this story is amazing. Please continue!

[Steel Metal]

This is seriously wonderful, I'll keep reading for as long as you keep writing. I honestly think it's one of the best--maybe THE best--I've ever read. You're really good at characterization! It's completely believable as a real scenario; particularly the way the characters react to everything. I didn't want it to stop when I reached the end.

[BenG]

Excellent writing.  Looking forward to the next instalment :thumbsup:

[Enumerated_Bob]

Dani's Diet Pt. 3

---

So Dani and I have been together for a good while now, and let's just say she's looking exactly how you'd expect: fatter.

Pretty significantly, too, I'm a bit surprised, considering she wasn't trying to gain or anything. Apparently, just knowing I was okay with her getting bigger gave her permission to eat like she always wanted, meaning she's been eating a teensy bit more than the doctor would recommend, and by 'a teensy bit more,' I mean like eight thousand calories more.

She shot past the two hundred pound mark, which didn't cause the kind of freak-out you'd expect from what I told you about last time. She wasn't exactly overjoyed, but she didn't have a panic attack either. Kept overeating, like normal. I'm estimating she's probably up to about 225 by now, which is fat by anybody's standards, for pretty much any woman, but on Dani, well, short as she is, and the sheer, ungodly amount of junk food she eats on a daily basis, she's looking more and more like a hippopotamus every day!

No complaints here, though, I mean, my god, how could I possibly complain when her tits are up to an HH, and, oomph, that ass! Her weight gain's shifted south once more, making her butt just a bit too big for ordinary movie theaters. Okay, so yeah, her waistline is looking less like a wasp, and more like a bumblebee, but let's be real, she never actually had a thin waist. It was just compared to her massive tits and bodacious bottom that it looked skinny. And besides, the fact you can tell on this hugely fat woman where her waist is supposed to be is straight up amazing!

She's still weird about her weight, though. She carries it well, she knows she carries it well, she's not really ashamed of how she looks, exactly, but she's a bit sensitive for a woman who's maybe ten pounds from getting stuck in bathroom stalls. Or rather, weirdly sensitive for someone who is that size, knows full well she's getting fatter, yet has no problem waddling around, packed into yoga pants and belly shirts, letting all that juicy, jiggly meat hang out there for the world to see. I don't even know where she's finding yoga pants her size at this point, I mean, the amount of spandex needed to cover a booty that's just about big enough to plug up an amusement park water slide! Let alone when she inevitably has to go back for the next size up!

She'll admit to being as fat as a whale now, so that's progress, I guess, but god forbid anyone who isn't her make a comment about it. Anyone says anything about it is in pretty immediate danger of losing either their teeth or their testicles, depending.

But at the same time as all that, she sure as hell doesn't dress like she knows, thank god. Hanging out with Dani, there's always an element of suspense, like every time she drops something and has to pick it up, you're watching, wondering 'is this going to be it? Can those pants survive this?'

You get the image?

Anyway, this is how things were when I saw her yesterday.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It all started about three in the afternoon, when I got a text from her, and not the kind of text you want to receive, ever, from a significant other.

“We need 2 talk. Come by my apartment”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I know, right? Nothing good ever happens when a girl says 'we need to talk.' Always means something shitty, like they found out you were cheating, which I knew wasn't the case, or they're going to admit they were cheating, something like that, something that's going to end the relationship completely. I almost didn't even go, but I forced myself to, out of respect for Dani as a person.

Pretty glad I did. Found out my expectations were approximately 125% wrong.

I let myself in using the spare key she'd given me, walked through the door, nervous as can be, only to see Dani sitting on the sofa, in her panties, looking obese as ever, basically taking up the entire thing on her own, working her way through an almost empty half-gallon of ice cream in her lap.

To be clear, if you had to blame one thing for Dani's gain, it's that this kind of piggishness wasn't anything weird. Just business as usual.

Except. . . Except for the completely empty carton sitting on the ground next to her. Normally, she would have stopped at one, talked about maybe getting another, then made some comment about keeping her 'trim, girlish figure,' and acted like she was being so very health conscious because she was only cramming down one half gallon carton and not the three or four her fat, hungry tummy was demanding!

“Dani? You, uh, said you needed to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah, just gimme a sec,” Dani lifted the carton over her head, and poured slightly melted ice cream into her open mouth. Not wasting a drop of that sweet, fattening syrup, that's our Dani for you. She grunted as the last drop drizzled into her open maw, “Oomph! All right. Straight to business. So, I was thinking last night, and I realized something.”

She didn't seem angry or embarrassed, so I honestly had no clue what to expect. She continued on, “Okay, so. . . Do you remember when all this started, how you told me you wouldn't mind if I got fatter. . .” She set the empty carton down on the vast dome of her fat, full stomach, and I nodded. She went on, “Well, I was thinking about that, and about how you're always buying me all this super-fattening food, and it got me wondering, like. . . Are you. . .You know,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “getting off on me getting fat? Like, is that a thing, would you like it if I started to, you know, actively try to get fatter, like on purpose?”

I almost breathed a sigh of relief. This was about her putting the pieces together, not breaking up with me, but I couldn't relax. I still wasn't out of the woods. I'd been here before, so I knew. This was the kind of thing where a wrong answer could be what gets her to break up with me. I started, “Well, uh-”

I never even finished my sentence before she cut me off, “'Cause I'll do it.”

“Wait, really?” This whole thing seemed like it came out of the blue.

Dani shrugged, “Like I said, I did some thinking last night. Realized, holy shit, I'm fat, and I can't be bothered to do anything about it, so this right here,” she gestured to her bloated body, spread out on the sofa, “skinny as I'm ever gonna be, most likely.”

I'd had girls confront me about the whole '[if]attening-them-up' thing, but this was new. “But you're being serious right now? You'd willingly gain weight for me?”

She looked thoughtful, squinting a little bit “Well, I mean, I'm not really into the idea of waddling around, looking like the Michelin Man's fat, younger sister, but I figure, what the hell, freakin' look at me, I'm pretty much there already, and besides,” she laughed, “I definitely could get into laying in bed all day with you bringing me food whenever I want.” She sat up straighter, grunting with effort as she did so, “Speaking of, I was thinking we could go out to that Chinese place on Jefferson for dinner, how's that sound?”

I knew the place. Better than most, probably. The buffet at Pride of China was easily the biggest in town, and the items on it, well, they're only low in calories if you consider an entire cheesecake 'diet food.' The place is a feeder's paradise. I've taken many a girl there to help fatten them up, and I can say from experience, works like a charm. I'd been with Dani, too, of course, but the last time, she knew she weighed less than two hundred pounds, and been a little worried about getting over that milestone. So, she'd only had three plates. You know, kind of a big meal by an average person's standpoint, barely a big snack from the viewpoint of a glutton as ravenous as Dani.

Anyway, I agreed, this was my chance to see Dani, fatter than ever, stuffing herself without inhibition at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

We couldn't go immediately, though, since it turned out that gallon of ice cream wasn't the only bit of overindulging Dani had been doing all day, and sucking those little dribbles of sugary cream out the carton had pushed her over the edge into too-full-to-move territory. I suggested I go back to my place, get cleaned up, give her an hour to recover from her gluttony, and get some proper clothes on, since I mean, I didn't mind seeing Dani in her panties, all those acres of soft, creamy flesh in plain view, blubber bulging out all over the place, but I have a feeling Pride of China might take issue with having a nearly naked, massively obese woman plowing through their entire inventory for the low, low price of $15. A mostly-clothed, massively obese woman on the other hand. . . Well, they might still take issue with it, but at least she could clean half a dozen plates before they toss her out on her ample behind!

What I came back to when I went by to pick her up was. . . My god. I'll understate things a bit. Girl cleans up nice.

I was expecting her usual, 'yoga pants and belly shirt' get up, but no, she had actually gone through the trouble of finding a beautiful, red dress! To make it better, she did not go through the trouble of finding a beautiful, red dress in the proper size. All 200+ pounds were clearly displayed on her hefty, 4'10” frame, like she was showing off her morbid obesity. Not that she was indecent. Technically, she was all covered up. Her boobs were packed tightly into way too small a space, bubbling up and over the neckline, but no nipples were showing, and her ass. . . Well, the bottoms of the cheeks were just barely visible, but for the most part, she was okay!

In the restaurant, I found a table, and I gestured for Dani to sit herself down. I didn't sit immediately, though, since it was my job to bring her her meals. I could sit and rest as soon as my girl was up to her ears in sweet and sour chicken. But before I went to the buffet line, I had to take a second to admire the way Dani's ass overflowed over the sides of the chair. Okay, maybe a few seconds, but can you blame me? Babe's got one bountiful booty!

I spent the next hour and a half, basically running back and forth between our table and the buffet, all for Dani, I got none of the food, but let's be real, I wasn't there to eat. I was there for the show. I was there to admire Dani's skill at eating her weight in egg rolls, and be seriously impressed at that dress holding together when Dani makes the transition from being just another fat girl at a buffet to looking like a pregnant fat girl at a buffet!

And I did. Admire Dani eating, anyway. I did not get to admire the dress somehow holding together, but that was on the fault of the dress itself, because for some reason, it couldn't keep up with the way Dani's belly was blowing up faster than a balloon at an air pump. After about plate four, it just. . . gave up. Couldn't handle it anymore.

It wasn't a loud, dramatic rip where one second, it was holding together, then the next, it was on the floor in two pieces, but, halfway through a plate of chow mein, I heard a small tearing noise at her sides, and Dani flushed red. I was pretty sure I knew what had happened, but I wasn't 100%.

She didn't stay embarrassed for too long, though. I think she realized how incredibly hot the whole thing was for me, because she went back eating, and I kept hearing small popping sounds. Didn't directly say anything, but when I was coming back with the next round of plates, the fabric had definitely begun to rip apart at the sides. Probably best she never said it was happening, I mean, if anyone overheard, they'd have kicked us out long before she was ready to go.

They did ask us to leave in the end, something about how another customer was complaining about our 'gross display,' but by that point, Dani was stuffed so full that even with the thick layer of lard surrounding it, her stomach felt like a rock. Those 'little rips' at her sides had basically turned into full on vents displaying her fat rolls, and let's just say she wasn't trying to keep her groans of discomfort quiet.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Dani tried, I'll give her that, she tried to stand up and walk out when we were asked to leave, but the thing is, as experienced as she is at pigging out, she normally doesn't do much moving afterwards. Like, at all. I had to basically carry her, which was. . . well, it was a weird combination of 'oh my god so fucking hot' and 'oh my god this fat bitch is crushing me.'

Thank god, we were parked pretty close to the door, I honestly don't think I could have gone on much further than I did. 225 is definitely a low estimate for how fat Dani's gotten.

When I got in the car, I saw her struggling with the seatbelt, and I laughed, “Gonna need a seatbelt extender before too long!”

She rolled her eyes and became very sarcastic, “Ha. Ha. Very, *Nnngh!* funny.” And with one last yank, she clicked the seatbelt in. “I was just sitting on it, loser. I'm a long way from needing an extender, no matter how much you fantasize about that!”

“Not if you eat like you just did on the regular, you aren't!”

She smirked, “Well now. We'll just see about that, won't we?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

We didn't head straight home, mostly because I was dreading having to help Dani's fat ass walk to her apartment, but partially because it meant I could drive us through a nearby Mickey-D's, to which Dani complained loudly about, but in the end, after a lot of driving around aimlessly, ate her value meal.

Finally, we parked outside her building and just sat there awhile. I'm not gonna lie, that was mostly because Dani's stuffed stomach was too sensitive to handle walking, but it gave us some time to talk.

I had to ask, “So you're totally on board for this? You're actually going to gain weight on purpose?” I knew the answer, it was obvious after the last few hours, but I wanted to hear her say it.

“Uh, David? Friggin' look at me, I basically just cleaned out an all-you-can-eat buffet, and then I got drive through. A girl doesn't get this full without knowing she's gonna feel fat when she wakes up.”

I could have been satisfied with that, but I've been burned before. “Yeah, but what about tomorrow, when you can't fit into any of your pants, what about then? Are you just gonna call it off?”

She shrugged, “Nah, probably just order pizza.”

“God, I love you.”

Dani smiled, “You'd better, I'm getting fat for you over here!”

“So, does this mean I can call you fat now?” I teased.

She apparently didn't see it as playful joking though, since her face got serious all of a sudden.She squinted, “Depends. How much do you value your testicles?”

I blinked and started apologizing. I know Dani well enough to know when she's joking, and it might not make complete sense to me, but she definitely was not joking about this. Fat jokes are out. Might not make logical sense, but I'm not about to press the issue of jokes about weight when I've landed a blubbery goddess who's willing to get fatter just for me.

We chatted a bit longer, a big more teasing, but after a while, her belly shrunk down enough for her to make the walk to her room.

I went with her, yes, and I know what you're expecting me to say, but no, we did not have sex. I know, I know, I'm supposed to be disappointed and all, but the fact is, I'm pretty okay with this. I've made love to women on such full stomachs, so I know from experience, it never ends well. Things tend to. . . reappear.

I can tell you one thing, I haven't seen her today, but she sent me some photos of her breakfast. And her lunch. Let's just say that for once in her life, I think Dani's found a diet she's actually gonna stick to.

[Guest high]

Great addition to an already awesome story!

[Enumerated_Bob]

Great addition to an already awesome story!

Thanks for the feedback! I want to clarify, though, this isn't so much an 'addition,' as it is the finale. I'm not coming back to this one.

Dani's 'Diet' was originally intended to only run for the two installments, but after several people asked for more, I started thinking. I realized it would work better as a narrative piece if I brought the story to the point where Dani's titular 'diet' became the opposite of what it was when it began. I honestly think adding another installment would take away from what I've already written here

[Guest high]

Yes, it certainly feels more complete