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Chapter Twenty Six

After my ridiculous eating campaign, I had passed out where I was sitting. I woke up at around 1:00 AM needing to take a wicked pee. I tried to get up, but I felt like someone was sitting on me. Oh yeah, I know who that is: me! My belly was completely expanded and it felt like it was pushing down into my crotch and up into my chest at the same time. I couldn’t believe how full I was. If this was a food baby, I was having triplets.

I tried to stand again, but the effort to bend forward was painful and I was deep into the chair, which was soft and cushioned, making it hard for me to get up. I hated to bother him, but I needed Eric’s help.

"Eric, honey, can you help me?" I asked reaching over and tousling his hair. He woke up and took a second to acclimate that he was on the couch, but then sprang to attend to me. He seemed to understand exactly what I needed without explanation, and took both of my hands to pull me out of the chair. I actually had to rush to the toilet, or at least waddle as quickly as I could, given my condition. I sat on the toilet and peed more than I remember every peeing before. It just kept coming. I felt like an open hydrant.

"I think things are starting to move through you," Eric acknowledged.

"Can you leave me in private," I asked, hoping that I would be able to get more out of me than just pee. He obliged and closed the door behind himself. I then let out a lot of gas, but nothing else. I felt like I wanted to poop, but nothing was ready. I figured I was probably constipated again. I washed my hands and washed me face, which was sticky with ice cream. I really did feel like a pig. How could Eric not be grossed out by this, I remember thinking.

I came out of the bathroom, still moving gingerly, feeling like my center of gravity had shifted. I figured this was how it felt to be in the last throws of pregnancy and I was ready to deliver a 10 pound food baby.

"Where do you want to sleep?" Eric asked. In my condition, I appreciated his recognizing that a sitting position could be more comfortable than lying down.

"I would rather try lying down in bed," I answered.

He guided me to the bedroom and helped me lower myself onto the bed. Then he helped roll me onto may side. "Here, try this," he said taking one of the king sized pillows and lifting my leg to put it between by thighs. With one end of the pillow between my legs, he then slid the rest of the pillow under my belly, which did help reduce the sense of strain on my back. It was so helpful that he knew these tricks. He covered me and then got into bed next to me.

"Wake me if you need help to the bathroom," he said. We lay there together with him running his fingers over my bloated body softly tickling me, which helped calm my system.

The next thing I knew, it was 6:00 AM and I really needed to use the bathroom. I was careful this time not to wake Eric and I slid out of the bed. I was still impeded by the weight, but at least the buzz had left, although I realized that I had a terrible hang over. I padded to the bathroom silently and left the lights off so as not to wake Eric.

I sat down on the toilet and more pee and gas came out, but again nothing else. I felt like there was a huge lump in my guts and I felt so thirsty. I went to the sink and splash my face with cold water. In the dark, I could tell there was something weird with my face. I turned on the light, which felt blinding to my eyes. My eyes adjusted and I could see better what was wrong. So that is where all of that salt went, I thought to myself. My face looked like I had been punched in both cheeks, it was so puffed up. My eyes looked like slits, almost swollen shut. Charming, I though looking at my face.

Figuring to take all of the bad news at once, I took off the t-shirt and looked at my body in the full length mirror. I looked so fat. My belly was both sticking out and hanging low with a crease at my panty line so that I couldn’t even see the top of my panties. I looked swollen everywhere. I looked over at the scale, but thought better of it, deciding I didn’t really need all of the bad news at once and left it sitting where it was. No reason to totally freak myself out, I thought.

I turned on the shower and pulled off my panties. Stepping in, the hot water felt really good. I took some of the water into my mouth, which had lost the flavor of the ice cream, with a kind of thick taste of the Chinese food returning. After I dried off, I brushed my teeth; twice. I was having trouble with the taste of the Chinese food, even after violent mouth wash. It just came back.

I was hoping that I would be able to go to the bathroom, but I was constricted. I realized that digestion takes a while, but why wouldn’t the donuts at least we willing to leave. I tried to put on my bathrobe. I struggled unsuccessfully to close it. It simply wouldn’t reach around my torso. I couldn’t believe that I could make such a difference so quickly in my circumference. I quietly snuck past the bedroom to the living room. My lap top was still on the floor. I thought about bending over to pick it up, but I decided against doing that for the moment.

I got four aspirin and took them with a large glass of water. Although I was sodden from all the water I was holding, I knew that I needed to flush my system. I sat down at Eric’s computer and searched diuretics. I opened one site and the first thing I read was, "Diuretics are often abused by sufferers of eating disorders, especially bulimics, in attempts at weight loss." Aha! That must be my problem. I just keep forgetting to purge. I almost chuckled, the thought was so absurd. I made a mental note to search "eating disorders" since it would be convenient if I could blame this belly on having one.

Everything I was reading was dealing with medical diuretics. I was looking for something more home grown. I did confirm, though, that diuretics can focus on removing sodium from the system. Now that sounded like a very good idea. One of the sites suggested that it was possible to determine whether someone was holding water by pushing in against the flesh on their shin. I followed the directions and confirmed that I left a dent when I pushed in, as if my swollen face and globular belly weren’t proof enough that I was bloated.

I found a holistic site and confirmed that green tea, cranberry juice and apple cider vinegar were all natural diuretics. I went back to the kitchen and put water on to make tea, after which I found cranberry juice in the refrigerator and fixed myself a glass. Everything liquid tasted good. I drank the juice and fixed a large glass of green tea, adding a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar for good measure and carried it back to the computer.

Next I surfed constipation. On one site I read that a swollen abdomen and abdominal pain are both signs of constipation. Hmm, I thought, so is my swollen abdomen being caused by constipation or the fact that I probably ate more than five pounds of food for dinner, much of it containing rice. What I figured out was that I wasn’t really constipated. I had just eaten too much and it took extra time to digest heavy foods when eaten in large quantities. One site even had the audacity to suggest trying to eat light. Too late. All of the home remedies involved eating or drinking something, particularly foods high in fiber. Apparently, most cures for excessive overeating are to eat something more. And of course, several sites suggested prune juice, which we didn’t have. I figured we would pick up some, since I definitely wanted to speed this baby along.

I had used Eric’s computer when I had surfed some of the sites on big, beautiful women, but I couldn’t remember whether I started that search with Dimensions or something else, so I went into history. At first, I thought I found the sites where I had gone, but when I clicked on a couple of these sites, I realized that I hadn’t been to them before. Curious, I thought. "Lard Biscuit" was a very interesting site. I found what were called "hot chicks" which included drawings of girls with figures similar to the one that I was currently carrying. But when did I go to this site, I thought? I would have remembered. I could have modeled for some of these drawings. They had my distended gut hanging over a bikini with a big ripe ass that was hard to miss. Most showed a girl eating something like a thick burger or an ice cream cone.

I snooped around and found DeviantArt, which included drawings and stories. I found a story that was illustrated called "Stacey’s Party", which was about a girl who started out just slightly chubby, who ended up fat, but still attractive to her husband, who encouraged her to eat. I was fascinated by the detail to both the writing and the illustrations. But how had this site gotten in Eric’s history file? I checked out several of the others and figured that they must have been attached to the sites that I had previously visited. I wondered whether Eric had seen any of these and what he must think, if he knew that I had been searching images and stories about fat women.

Then I tried to open one called Curvage, but I couldn’t without a password. Why would this be in Eric history?

The green tea and cranberry juice were having an effect and I went to pee again. I looked at my face and could see that it was still puffy, but that my eyes had opened up more. Contrary to what made any sense, I felt like I was getting hungry. As packed as my bowels felt, my stomach was empty and was calling for breakfast. Why wasn’t Eric up and why wasn’t he taking care of this. The feeding experiment was still on and I was hungry and he was my feeder.

Coming back from the bathroom, I risked physical harm and bent over to pick up my lap top. I sat down with it and went to Curvage. I joined, which gave me access to a library of photos, posts, opinions, stories and more. It was the complete home base for all things chubby. It had "models" who posted photos and videos, which were then reviewed and commented on by the membership. Several models had dedicated followers.

One of the most remarkable threads was a woman who called herself Carmin LaFox. The first posts appeared to be something that her boyfriend put up after she had gained 66 pounds in one year. He had photos of her very slim, and then a progression that showed her gaining weight aggressively. There were progress posts by Carmen herself thanking people for their comments, which were consistently acknowledging how fat she was getting. The latest posts showed that she had gotten significantly fat. Her belly was huge and her face had completely changed. I don’t think that if I saw the first and last photos without the background story I would have thought it to be the same person. In something like two years, Carmen had doubled her weight and then some. There was a post that said she was up to 105 kilos, which I checked to see was more than 230 pounds. As remarkable as that was, given that she had started at something like 110, it was not a current weight. There were several months of posts after that showing that she was continuing to gain. My guess was that she had to be over 250 pounds. At 5'-2" tall, she was a butterball. One of the topics in the posts made by Carmen was humiliation. I didn’t download any of her videos, which she was selling, but the descriptions were about how boyfriends had rejected her because of her weight gain, but how that didn’t stop her from eating.

I stopped tip toeing around and finally went into the bedroom at around 7:30, and sat down on the bed, causing enough disruption - an advantage to being a tub - to wake Eric up.

Eric rolled over and smiled at me, "Good morning sunshine. How are you feeling today."

I rolled over on top of him, which caused him to groan. "Oh, my God, your crushing me," he cried out, laughing. I let him feel my full weight, which I figured would stop the laughing. He had a hard on and I straddled him. He wrestled me over, so that he could get out from under me and said, "I need to pee before anything else."

I waited in the bed and he came running back and dove onto the bed, pulling me back on top of him. "Aren’t you afraid I am going to squash you?" I asked.

"I’m counting on it," he answered.

I straddled him again and we started kissing, while he played with my body. I sat back and asked him what the plan should be for the morning. "Well, first lets have quick sex and then we can see. How are you feeling this morning? You seem no worse for the wear."

Sitting back, while I straddled him, I pulled off my bathrobe. "I’m feeling pretty good, considering. I think the only complaint I have is that everything I have eaten over the last 24 hours is still sitting right here," I said holding my big belly towards him like an offering."

He reached up and probed it a little. "Seems packed solid. Are you sure there is room in there for me?"

I leaned forward and grabbed some lubricant from the side table, squeezed it into my hand, and reached down to make myself super slippery. Then I reached down and used the rest on him. He was enjoying the feeling of my applying the lubricant by stoking his cock. "Better not keep doing that," he warned. I spread some of the lubricant on my belly so that I could slide around easier.

I repositioned myself over him and guided his cock into my cunny. Then I lay myself down on top of him. "You are really a load," he commented, reaching around to my ass to pull himself into me and get better leverage.

"Are you complaining?" I asked.

"No. I’m complementing you," he laughed.

I lifted up a little so that my belly was still pushing into him, but high enough so that my breasts could kind of dance on his chest. He kept his hands on my ass for a little while guiding my movements. To get a better grip, he grabbed my love handles. "These are very functional," he joked, while he used them to pull me up and then push me back down. After doing that for a little while, he nudged me to roll on my side and then over onto my back, moving quickly to stay inside me the whole time.

Now on top of me, he positioned himself on his knees, squatting back so that he had a full view, while holding onto my legs for control. "I think you may have gained a little weight last night," he commented, as he watched my body wobble from the movement.

"Oh, you must be mistaken," I responded. "I’m just retaining a little bit of water. Like maybe one of the Great Lakes."

"You know I was kidding about there being room for me inside you, but you actually do feel a little different. But really good," he added before I could get nervous.

"I am swollen everywhere, so it makes sense that I am swollen in there. too," I explained.

"Do you want to cum?" he asked.

"Why? Do you?" I laughed.

"I am thinking about it," he answered.

"Well, it would be good to get going with the day. I am starving, by the way," I exaggerated.

Telling him that seemed to encourage him and he leaned down into my belly and pushed hard for a couple of strokes, which caused him to cum with a deep groan. "Am I imagining this, or is my fat body turning you on more and more, the fatter I get?" I asked.

It took him a moment to be able to speak. "I think this fat thing is a bit fun. Are you serious about being hungry?" he asked with a tone of amazement.

"I realize that it makes no sense, but yes I would like a nice breakfast. But first, why don’t we talk about our plans for the day. I would like to know what you have planned for me," I asked.

He looked a bit puzzled, so I reminded him of our experiment. "You are my feeder and I am your feedee. Or have you thought better of it and decided that this is too weird? We did agree that we would try this out until bedtime tonight," I reminded him.

I rolled him off of me and slid out from underneath him. "Unless you have decided that I am finally too fat," I said standing next to the bed so that he could observe me in full bloat.

"What I was thinking, while we were making love, was that you seemed a little bony and I was concerned that I could hurt myself on one of your sharp edges," he joked.

I prodded around in my thickness, as if trying to find the sharp edges. By pushing hard through my flesh, I could just make out my hip bones, which used to be so pronounced. "Oh, I see what you mean. You could hurt yourself. I should be more careful. These need to be properly padded."

I pranced out of the bedroom, giving him a show with my jiggling ass, and went into the bathroom to pee again. At least the waters were subsiding. And I guess I am taking some poetic licence to describe myself as "prancing". Can a hippo prance? Don’t forget Disney’s Fantasia!

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Chapter Twenty Seven

Colette seemed to really be getting into the feeder/feedee thing. When we got up that morning, I half expected that she would want to beg off for continuing into the day, after the amount she had eaten the night before, but she was still game.

"Do you really want to try feeding until bedtime tonight?" I asked.

"If you don’t think it is going to freak you out. I don’t want to do anything that makes you think I am gross," she answered.

"It’s not going to freak me out and I don’t think you are gross," I confirmed. "If we want to do this for the day, I suggest that we change the format from last night. If I feed you too much too soon, you will need to stop."

"You are quickly becoming quite the expert," she complemented me; or at least I took it as a complement.

I fixed breakfast for us both, including omelettes with cheese served with bacon, sausage, and toast. While the serving I gave Colette was very generous, it wasn’t crazy; just three eggs, three strips of bacon, and three sausage patties. I also fixed her a glass of cranberry juice. I think that the experience of eating so much the day before made it easy for that breakfast to just register as a normal meal. The fact that it was more than twice what she would have had for a normal breakfast in the past, and more than I had served myself, didn’t really seem to register.

After breakfast, we got dressed and decided to go to the supermarket down the street. I suggested the fixings for a pasta dinner, as well as what we would need to have a Labor Day barbecue celebration consisting of hot dog, hamburgers, and several "salads" including macaroni and potato. I wasn’t sure what was going to work best, so I figured "be prepared" for either option. Colette added lettuce and other vegetables, as well as a healthy assortment of fruits.

We made our way to the ice cream freezers and Colette picked out pints of Hagen Days vanilla chocolate chip and chocolate chocolate chip. I quickly added several others including french vanilla, dulce de leche, cookies n’ creme, and chocolate chip cookie dough. Colette turned to me and raised an eye brow. "That could be over doing it," she commented.

"I just want to have back ups and alternatives," I explained. "There is no obligation for any of these to disappear quickly," I added.

"Very practical, then," she said. "As long as we are just providing the household basics, we should probably get these," as Colette added a large bottle of chocolate sauce and Marshmallow Fluff to the cart. We passed the dairy section and I added a large can of Reddi Wip. "Oh, my darling," was all she said.

We also got some general things for the house. Colette added a big bottle of prune juice to the cart. She also picked up a bottle of stool softeners and a large bottle of Pepto Bismol. I didn’t ask questions.

As we were walking home along the sidewalk, we passed the Dunkin Donuts. "Should we stop in?" I asked, but Colette just shook her head no.

I think I am off donuts for a while," she answered. "I don’t think I could even consider eating another donut for, I don’t know, another day or two?" she said with a smile.

"What are you thinking about lunch?" I asked. It was only around 11:00, but I worried that I was not doing very well as Collette’s feeder at the moment. "You should let me know where you stand on continuing what we started yesterday afternoon. You did say that you wanted to experiment with eating to your capacity through this evening, but if last night was sufficient, I would understand. I mean, I think you did succeed at really eating to capacity and, while you didn’t seem any worse the wear this morning at breakfast, I would understand if you wanted to call it off or slow it down," I offered.

Collette slowed down in her walk and had a bit of a perplexed look on her face like she was pondering something heavy; okay, sorry about that. She stopped and pretended that she was looking into a store window, but I figured she was collecting her thoughts. I figured that it was important that I respected her wishes and not push her someplace where she didn’t want to go. Even if she was not aware of my fantasies, I didn’t want to make her do anything that she did not want to do.

After a few moments, Collette responded, "I kind of thought we made a commitment to something, but I realize that I don’t really know what that is. We just spent a lot of money on groceries and, if you are having second thoughts and would prefer that I start to get rid of this chub and a half, buying six pints of ice cream is going to make it tough."

I could tell that she was anxious and I wanted to try to make her feel more comfortable and confident. "Just tell me what you are thinking," I suggested.

"Well, its complicated. I guess I would like to continue this experiment into gluttony through the end of today, as we planned yesterday, but I would totally understand it, if that would just gross you out," she explained. "You have been really great and I appreciate the way that you have avoided being judgmental. If I was with someone like Emma’s boyfriend, I would probably have been abandoned at the airport. But I also know that this is not something that I ever thought would happen. If you think this is a mistake or it is starting to gross you out, you just need to tell me."

I put my arms around her and pulled her close. "Darling, I made you breakfast this morning and I am the one who added pints of ice cream to the cart. If this is something that you want to experiment with, I am with you on it. I am not saying that I totally understand it, but so far it was been really fun. It’s kind of kinky. With the sex that we have been enjoying, I think you can easily tell that you are not grossing me out."

"You would be honest about this, right?" She asked. "I mean I don’t want to go deeper into this and then suddenly have you tell me that I am too fat for you."

"That’s not going to happen," I assured her. "I love you."

"Okay," she decided, "So let’s continue today. I don’t know what happens after today, but there is some weird force in me - I am a bit afraid that it is a big one," she continued hefting her belly for emphasis, "that wants me to experiment with my ability to both consume vast quantities and to experience the results of doing that."

"So, then, back to my question," I asked, "What are you thinking about lunch?"

Chapter Twenty Eight

After making love this morning, Eric and I got dressed and headed out for provisions. I started putting on the size 12 jeans, but they felt snug on my bloated belly. Anticipating a continued assault on my digestive system, I folded those back up and put on the 14s, which were not as loose around the waste as I was expecting. Still, they gave me room.

Eric made me a good solid breakfast with generous portions of everything, but not remarkably so. I half expected him to do something like make me a two foot stack of pancakes or something. That scene from Uncle Buck where he makes giant pancakes for a birthday breakfast popped into my mind. While I still was carrying a lot of food in my gut, I was feeling better and had no problem finishing the breakfast without effort.

We headed out for a walk, which actually felt good. Sitting in the apartment emphasized my feeling like a lump of lard. While walking made me very aware of the weight of my belly, moving around made me feel better. I also could tell that my breasts and ass were beneficiaries of this continuing gain. In fact, every part of me seemed like it was jiggling around as I walked.

We went to the supermarket and Eric proceeded to load the cart with what I expected would be the next round in my feeding adventure. I made sure that we added some fruits and vegetables, but I still tried to signal my enthusiasm by adding two pints of ice cream to the cart. Eric doubled down on that gesture by adding another four pints. While I had already demonstrated my ability to knock off a quart of ice cream in a single sitting, once for myself earlier in the week and again last night with Eric, I was hoping that Eric was not thinking that I would be able to eat three quarts of ice cream in one day, regardless of how many different flavors that I had. When Eric made it clear that these were general provisions, not necessarily something that I would be eating that day, I felt less intimidated and even tossed chocolate sauce and Marshmallow Fluff into the cart, as if I needed more sugar calories.

I was thinking of buying an enema bag, in case things did not free up soon in my colon, but I decided against it, in case that would make Eric uncomfortable. I did get some stool softeners, though, and he didn’t comment.

As we were walking home, we passed Dunkin Donuts. I was tempted, but figured more donuts could interfere with whatever Eric had planned for real food. I felt like I really needed more roughage and protein. Eric then asked me about lunch, which made me feel funny. I guess I was assuming that he was driving this ship, and when he asked me what I wanted for lunch, it suddenly made me feel self conscious. I am not sure why, but I felt insecure, as if the way that I answered would be either turning left or turning right. I started thinking, "What if he is only humoring me on all of this and I am actually starting to freak him out." After all, he fell in love with a hard body and I was well on my way to being the Pillsbury dough girl. As an example on how far down this path I felt I had traveled, that image of myself actually made me wonder whether we should have picked up a roll of cookie dough.

I stopped walking and took a moment to organize my thoughts and then I tried to put it back onto him, explaining that I was assuming that we were doing what we had planned the day before, as if it was the equivalent of getting the car washed. I intentionally put it all on him and made it clear that I would stop, if he wasn’t into it. At the same time, I felt a bit disappointed since I had gotten into the idea that he was my feeder and I was his feedee, like in the stories I had read on-line. He reassured me, and made it clear that he was looking forward to completing the science experiment: how much could Colette eat and what would happen next. Purely cause and effect; nothing emotional. If his behavior in the bedroom was any indication of his feelings about my plump body, there was a lot of emotion wrapped up in this.

Eric assured me and I felt better. I asked him to tell me if I started getting too fat for him, but his response was that couldn’t happen. As we continued our walk home, I started thinking that was an interesting answer. It could have been, "You’ve got a really long way to go before that would happen," or "This is just something that we are doing as kind of a continued celebration of your culinary vacation. You’ll be back to your normal routine soon, so no worries." But instead, his answer suggested that it would be impossible for me to get too fat for him. I shook my head that this was silly for me to think about, since it wasn’t as if he were defining boundaries. It was just a really nice answer.

As we walked along, I started thinking about this as a science experiment: how am I affected by food and how do I feel as my body changes. That led me to think about elementary school science and the experiment about what happens when you combine a base with an acid, usually baking soda with vinegar: it is a volcano of foam. One girl on a website had shown herself doing a combination of eating Mentos and then drinking Coke, with the result that it expanded her belly to the point that it really looked like she could pop. I reminded myself to do some more research on whether I could actually explode if I ate the wrong combination of foods.

As we were entering our building, I asked Eric, "So what is the answer to your question? What do I want for lunch?"

"I thought I was asking you," he laughed, "I guess you are suggesting that it should be up to me as your feeder."

"Hey, we all have our jobs to do," I answered, sounding very authoritative.

"Well, we have several options," he explained. "I have the fixings for a barbeque, but also for a pasta dinner. We could also get take out or go out for something," he offered.

"Well, we are home now, so it probably makes sense to put the groceries away before anything else," I suggested. "Are you in the mood to cook?" I asked. "I am willing to help, but my job, if I understand it is to eat. I don’t want to force you to cook, if you are not in the mood."

Erik smiled, and answered, "I am totally in the mood to cook for you, if that works for you. How about a Labor Day barbeque," he asked.

"Sounds great to me," I responded, as I set my bags on the table and started to put things away.

"There is one thing I should have thought of yesterday, but I am not sure you would be willing," he asked, sounding a bit hesitant. What did he have in mind, I wondered.

"Go ahead," I offered, "What do you have in mind?" I asked, assuming maybe it would be more sex before lunch. After all, he was a bit quick with things this morning.

"Well," he started, "I am just thinking that it could be kind of fun to document what you are doing."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Well, he continued, sounding a little nervous, "What if we were to measure you and weigh you as a kind of before, and then do the same after you have finished? And maybe take a couple of pictures of your progress?"

I could tell as soon as he said it that he had thought a lot about this, but maybe felt like he had gone a step too far, but I responded the question with a question, "Who would see these photos? Who is this for?" I made sure that my tone sounded more curious than accusatory.

"What? For us! Who else?" he responded, sounding very exposed.

"I was just wondering and wanted to know before answering," I explained. "You know there are places on-line where people post pictures of girls getting fatter. I just wanted to make sure that, if I were to say yes, it would be just for us. AND, we would hide them really well. I am not interested in anybody seeing my body in its full glory after you have gotten done stuffing me."

"No. It would be just for us. Like a way for you and me to really experience what you are doing," he explained.

"You mean, what we are doing," I corrected him.

"Yes, what we are doing," he confirmed.

"Well, the first problem is that the before should have been yesterday before the donuts, or maybe even the weekend before I left for Europe," I noted. "I am sure that I have gained several hundred pounds since yesterday," I joked.

"But still," Eric pressed, "right now is before later. I just thought it could be interesting."

"Interesting? Yeah, I guess, maybe, kind of," I answered. I was curious, if also a bit terrified of stepping on the scale. And measuring me, I kind of did have a before, since I was measured when I got my bra and then again when I got my swimsuit. Averaging, I figured that I was, or at least had been, 37 on the chest over my breasts, 32 around the waste if I didn’t suck in, and 39 around the hips. And of course, I had weighed myself after I got back so I knew that I had been 183 then. Before I left for Europe I weighed 130 and was something like 34, 26, 36 and I had figured that my 26 inch waist, which sounded thick for a dancer, was more due to my muscles than my fat. The question now was how much damage - damage? - I had done with my eating since I had gotten back. If I was honest, I probably had been eating as much, if not even more since arriving home than when I was making a pig of myself in Italy and France. And that idea of damage, interesting. We are so conditioned to think of a woman’s weight gain as something bad. Had I done damage to my figure? I guess it depends on how you look at it. If the goal was to better fill a bathtub, I definitely had made great progress. Win in a war of teeter-toter? I could kick the pre-Europe Collette’s ass.

Eric acted as if maybe he had gone too far and started trying to retrace his steps. "It’s no big deal. I just thought maybe it could fit in with your experimentation," he said almost apologetically.

Now was my turn to help him relax. I walked over and moved myself into his arms, pushing my big belly into him as he moved his hands to my back fat. "All discussions like this need to be had while we are hugging one another and making physical contact," I proposed. "You are right. It could be interesting."

"I will set up the grill on the deck to get the coals ready to barbecue," he suggested. "While we are waiting we could check things out."

While he was taking care of the grill, I took off my shirt, bra, and jeans - were these my fat pant? - and changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt, figuring that would make measuring easier. I was also figuring that it could make eating easier, if Eric was going to go a bit nuts, like he did last night. But I guess that isn’t really fair, thinking that he was the one who went nuts. After all I am the one who ate it all and was living with the evidence, as I looked down and notice how my belly was pushing my tee shirt up and my sweat pants down, revealing a ripe expanse of roundness that, in my unstuffed condition, had the density of a squishy water balloon. I could still feel the muscles under the chub, but boy was there ever a nice, thick layer of blubber. I guess gaining more than 50 pounds has to show up somewhere. Maybe documenting my body could be fun.

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Chapter Twenty Nine

As we were putting the groceries away, I suggested something that I had been fantasizing about, but, as soon as I said it, I felt like I could have crossed a line that might cause Collette to retreat from this adventure. One of the things that I enjoy most at on-line sites is when chubby girls reveal their weight gain and measurements. Watching Shar step on the scales after several videos of her pounding down weight gain shapes and documenting her increasing girth always got me going. I started thinking about doing this with Collette and asked her if she would like to check her weight and measurements as a kind of record what was happening to her body. I also suggested that we maybe take photos. I felt really awkward as soon as I asked.

Luckily for me, Collette didn’t freak out and actually agreed to do it. I started the grill so the coals would get hot while we were getting Collette’s measurements.

Collette got a note pad and listed various body parts. She had a tape measure and she showed me where to take the dimensions. For her breasts, the tape was over her bra and tee shirt. I asked her if the tape should be over the roll of fat above her bra on her back or in the dent formed by her bra. "What is the difference?" she asked. We measured both over the roll she was 38 inches, in the crease she was 37. She decided that her chest was 38 inches. Next we did around her torso an inch or two above her belly button. Again, I needed clarification, should this be around her love handles or above her love handles. She decided above, which meant that her waist was 35 inches.

"Don’t forget, I am bloated from donuts yesterday to breakfast this morning. It is still all in there," she offered as a defense for her thickness.

"Don’t worry. No one is judging," I said. "I guess next is your hips."

"Nope. I think next is my belly. This time it is around the love handles and a couple of inches below my belly button," Collette instructed.

I should have thought of that myself. Pulling the tape around her lower belly, which was very pronounced as a result both of the trip to Europe and to what she had pounded down over the last day or two. "39 inches," I announced.

"Oh, fuck," was her only comment.

"Now for the hips," I said. She stood up very straight, as though that was going to make some difference. As dramatic as her belly was, her ass really showed a difference from before the trip. "41 inches, if I position the tape around where your butt sticks out the furthest," I explained.

"Is there another option?" She asked. "Now, measure one of my thighs. I think I remember it being something like 24 inches last Spring."

"Which one?" I asked.

"Either," she said, "I doubt that they are different.

"Actually, your right thigh measures 27 inches, if I put the tape around the squishiest part near the top, but your left thigh measures a half inch bigger," I reported.

"Weird," she commented, "Why would my thighs be different?"

"Probably the same reason that your right breast is a little bigger than your left," I explained. "You do different things with your right arm and left arm, as well as your right leg and left leg. The muscles are probably just slightly different," I offered.

"Great, so I am fat and asymmetrical," she complained.

"I think most people are," I suggested.

"What? Fat?" she asked, laughing.

"No, not symmetrical," I said. I was glad she was laughing.

"So, one more thing, unless you want to measure something else," I suggested. "Time to step on the scale."

We went into the bathroom and, before she stepped on the scale, she sat down on the toilet to pee. She stood up and stepped on the scale, again standing up very straight as though that would make some difference. I read the number and wrote it down without announcing it.

"So what do I weigh?" she asked, a bit perplexed.

I was a little nervous to tell her, since I thought it could freak her out. "What were you the other day when you weighed yourself?" I asked.

"183," she answered. "Why? What am I now? I am assuming that I didn’t lose anything by the way that you are acting."

"A few pounds more," was all I offered.

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked. "Why don’t you want to tell me what I weigh?"

"I am afraid that you will be disappointed," I answered. "I know how hard you have been working to eat as much as possible and I am afraid that you be disappointed that you haven’t gained more," I said trying to be cute.

"Aren’t you the funny man," she said. "What do I weigh!!!"

"Unfortunately, you only weigh 191," I reported.

"You are kidding, right?" she asked, with her eyes wide. "There is no way that I could have gained 8 pounds in just a couple of days."

"As you have been saying, you probably have a 10 pound food baby sitting in your guts," I suggested. "Let’s get things ready for lunch," I said trying to change the topic.

"What about the photos," Collette asked feigning modesty.

"Really?" I asked with much too much enthusiasm. "We could take a few," I said trying to sound a bit less adolescent. Why was this so exciting to me? I mean I have been making love to her and enjoying her body in real time. Why did I find the idea of photographing her so tantalizing? It is also not like I haven’t taken photos of her before. But this was totally different: we were going to take photos to show how fat she has gotten. And then, there was the possibility that there would be more photos taken later showing her fatter.

"I will get my camera. We could take just a few for the record," I suggested.

I took pictures of her in her sweat pants and tee shirt, with her striking sexy poses. In one, she pulled her sweat pants down and tight against her hips so that her belly hung over them and with her tee shirt pushed up to reveal her big belly. "How about a couple without the tee," I asked.

"You are going to guard these with your life, right?" she asked.

"Of course. In fact, I will give them to you so you can be the keeper of these top secret images," I suggested.

She took off her tee shirt and bra and I got some great shots that revealed her love handles and chub. "There is one more shot I want to take, remembering how you looked last night when you were laying on your back," I requested.

"What is it? Me looking like a beached whale?" she asked.

"Come and lie down on the bed with just your bikini underpants," I directed. "Now, spread your legs wide."

"Are you taking a picture of my cunny?" She questioned.

"No. You’ll see. You can always delete anything that you don’t like," I suggested. I got down low and took a shot looking up at her belly as a dome over her fupa and thighs. Leaving her in that position, I then got a couple of shots from the side showing how her belly was sticking up into the air, even though she hadn’t eaten in a while. The last one was me standing over her, showing how her body spread out when she was lying down. I couldn’t help noticing that she really was looking quite chubby.

Chapter Thirty

After taking the photos, Eric suggested that I check them out on the computer screen while he started making lunch. As I was downloading the images from the computer, he brought me the pint of vanilla chocolate chip, which he had left out of the freezer after we got back from the store, so that the ice cream was soft and easy to eat. I don’t know why I was surprised, but it tasted really good.

Looking at the pictures of my chubby round body while eating ice cream out of the carton, I was stimulated by the decadence. I was surprised that I had no feelings of being embarrassed or shy about the way that my body looked. I actually thought that I could hold my own with some of the more modest web sites that I had visited. Obviously, I was nothing compared to any of the women on BigCuties who all outweighed me by at least 100 pounds. Some on that site, like Boberry and Jae, outweighed me by more than 400 pounds. That is more than two more of me. What does it feel like to be that enormous, I wondered.

Still, the photos showed that I had a nice appearance of a rounded, soft body. I thought that I would fit in very well with some of the women that I had seen on Curvage. Another ten or twenty pounds and I could rival Shar.

After Eric had put food on the grill, he came over with the tape measure as I was sitting in front of the computer. "There is one measurement that we forgot to take," he said. "I want to measure around your belly while you are sitting."

He reached the tape around me, trying to be dramatic, as if this was an arduous task. "We’re going to need a bigger boat," he joked. He pulled the tape tight and announced that my lower belly expanded to 42 inches when I was seated. I didn’t have anything to compare that to, but it sounded really big to me. Fondling the generous roll of chub at my waist while sitting, I had to acknowledge that it should sound pretty big, at least for a recently slim girl who was having her first adventure with weight gain.

Looking at the picture he had taken between my legs of the underside of my belly, I was struck by the number of stretch marks I had, including a couple that were pinkish red, which I assumed meant that they were new. I wanted to blame the last 24 hours, but I knew that I must have simply not been inspecting myself carefully enough. Women get stretch marks when they are pregnant due to the rapid expansion of their belly. Why wouldn’t the same happen to me as I have gained in three months more than is recommended for a pregnant women at full term? I figured that the stretch marks weren’t worse due to the fact that my 50 pound weight gain was spread everywhere on my body, except maybe my forearms and ankles. My face had also survived relatively intact, with maybe just a little bit fuller jaw line.

Wait. Did I say 50 pound weight gain? While I did think I had a lot of undigested food sitting in my guts, I had just weighed in at 191. That is 61 pounds in less than 40 days. Suddenly, that felt shocking. I looked at the other photos more carefully and studied how my body really looked now. This was not a temporary result showing the after affects of a fun weekend. I was legitimately and totally fat. Why wasn’t I more upset?

I searched for a weight list and found out that, yes, I am officially "overweight" at 5'-8". The chart showed that I was still within what was "normal" until I had hit maybe 163 pounds. I noticed that, at 130 pounds, I had only been a couple of pounds above being categorized as "underweight". Realizing that I was now 28 pounds over 163, the chart showed that I was close to the 197 pounds that would move me out of the yellow "overweight" range and into the white background that was not labeled. What would I be then? I went to a different chart and found the answer. If I hit 197 pounds, I would be in the pink zone, which that chart labeled as "obese". I had never thought of myself as being obese. But wait, why would I think of myself as obese. At 191, I was only overweight. Only. And I figured that there was not way that I could gain six pounds in one day.

I then checked out how to calculate my BMI, which was what these charts were based on. Healthy was considered a BMI of between 5 and 25. From 25 to 30 was overweight and 30 and above was obese. The magic number for my height was 197 pounds. At 196, I was overweight. At 197, I was obese. The BMI chart also showed another category. Apparently, if I ever got to 257 pounds, I would then be morbidly obese, which is a BMI of 40. But at 191 pounds, my BMI was 29, which was just overweight and not obese. I figured that when my body was finally willing to give up what it was holding in my guts, that 191 would drop down. If I was really holding a 10 pound food baby, I would be 181 pounds, which would mean that I would have lost 2 pounds since I got back. Yeah, fat chance.

Eric came over and looked at what I had on the screen. "Why are you researching BMIs?" he asked.

"You know me," I answered, "I was just curious. Guess what! I am officially overweight and just maybe 6 pounds away from being obese."

"Okay," he tread softly, "And what does that mean?" he asked.

"I guess it means nothing, but I did find it interesting," I continued.

"I hope it doesn’t change any plans at the moment, since I just put a couple of plates of food on the table for lunch," he explained.

"Don’t worry. No change," I answered. "Game on for today," I reassured him. He was smart enough not to ask about tomorrow.

"Do you have any ice cream left?" he asked, gesturing towards the pint that I had been eating from absent mindedly while looking at the computer. I handed him the pint, which was about 2/3 empty.

He took the pint and headed back to the kitchen. "I figure you will need something to drink with lunch so I am fixing you a root beer float," he explained.

I made my way to the table thinking, "Watch out! Stand back! Fat girl coming through!" It is funny how documenting something can either reinforce or adjust self-perception. Whatever the charts said about normal, overweight, or obese, all I needed to know was that I was fat.

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22 hours ago, dania201 said:

This is an interesting story. I’ve never heard of anyone being able to gain 60 pounds in 40 days 

Collette was traveling for 94 days, just over three months and weighed herself the morning after a huge meal at dinner the night before. So figure going from 130 to 183, she gained 53 pounds, but 3 pounds of that could be the undigested food in her guts. So for calculation purposes, lets say she gained 50 pounds in 94 days, which means averaging  a little over half a pound per day. At 130 pounds and a relatively active lifestyle, but not exercising while she was traveling, lets assume that she needed 12 calories per day to maintain her weight. That means she would have to eat 1,560 calories a day to not lose or gain weight from 130. In the beginning, she would need to be eating a total of just over 3,310 calories a day to be gaining a half pound a day. As she gained weight, though, this would need to increase. By the time that she weighed 150 she would need 1,800 calories to maintain, plus the 1,750 extra to gain, so a total of 3,550 per day. And, as she was getting ready to fly home, at 180 pounds she would need 2,160 to maintain plus the 1,750 to gain, so a total of 3,910 calories per day.

The 8 pounds in the four days following weighing herself the morning after she got back at 183 was the result of serious binging. Most of that weight could be just the weight of the food that was still sitting inside of her.

In terms of being able to hit those calorie levels, it is actually not that tough. She was eating the equivalent of six meals a day near the end, which would mean that the meals had to be relatively light each to only average 700 calories a meal. A snack of say four macaroons in the afternoon could through in an extra 400 calories making it easy.

There is a student working in our office part time. She has put on a lot of weight in the last four months and was complaining about it. One of the other women in the office was talking with her about it and the problem was that she was eating most of her meals in the cafeteria, which favored convenient high calorie foods. She listed out what she had eaten the day before and they calculated her calories.  Breakfast bacon egg and cheese sandwich medium cappuccino coffee 880, Snack latte coffee and small muffin 750, Lunch hamburger with cheese, fries, shake 1,600, Late afternoon snack energy bar and iced tea 420, Dinner two slices of pizza salad with dressing, and a beer 1,110, Snack while watching tv half a small bag of chips and a beer 745. Total 5,565 calories. Assuming that was an unusual high day with the three snacks, nothing that she ate was dramatic. It was a wonder that she had not gained more than the 20 pounds in the four months that she was complaining about. As a point of reference, eating 5,565 calories a day with 12 calories per pound would maintain someone weighing 463.75 pounds.

Let me know if you still think it would be that tough for Collette to have gained the 58 pounds over the 98 days from June 1 through September 6. Again, for reference, one cream puff contains almost 400 calories. What do others think? Has anyone here ever maintained a diet of between 3,500 and 4,000 calories a day for an extended period of time? Personally, I need around 3,400 a day to maintain, but I am a 6 foot tall big guy with a very active lifestyle plus 30 minutes a day on the bike.

Thanks

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Your math makes sense on calories—the big problem there is that even most nutritionists have come to realize it’s a bit of bunk science. Ask a binge eater or a feeder—the body’s metabolism in real life ends up actually gaining 8-12 pounds a month if you are going COMPLETELY gangbusters. And even that is rare and impossible to maintain at that rate for many months at a time. 

So it’s not that the math doesn’t check out, just that anyone in real life would be having a different experience based on the empirical evidence. 

As far as the story goes, you could:

1) ignore that and figure it’s just fantasy 

2) modify the time scale in the story, so that one month is three or four, and these chapters are taking us through the months that are becoming a blur as the weight piles on ❤️

3) decrease the amount she’s gaining, though the shock around the changes may still exist 

 

I like your writing and LOVE the way these characters are starting to uncover parts about themselves that they had never expected—but are careful, doubtful, and worried at times—that part feels so real. Totally identify with that!

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4 hours ago, dania201 said:

Your math makes sense on calories—the big problem there is that even most nutritionists have come to realize it’s a bit of bunk science. Ask a binge eater or a feeder—the body’s metabolism in real life ends up actually gaining 8-12 pounds a month if you are going COMPLETELY gangbusters. And even that is rare and impossible to maintain at that rate for many months at a time. 

So it’s not that the math doesn’t check out, just that anyone in real life would be having a different experience based on the empirical evidence. 

As far as the story goes, you could:

1) ignore that and figure it’s just fantasy 

2) modify the time scale in the story, so that one month is three or four, and these chapters are taking us through the months that are becoming a blur as the weight piles on ❤️ 

3) decrease the amount she’s gaining, though the shock around the changes may still exist 

 

I like your writing and LOVE the way these characters are starting to uncover parts about themselves that they had never expected—but are careful, doubtful, and worried at times—that part feels so real. Totally identify with that!

I am wondering if something is lost in the way I presented it. Collette gained 50 pounds in just over three months, so it is 16 to 17 pounds each month, or around 4 pounds a week.  I have personal experience with 20 pounds in a month, and that may have been deliberate eating, but not deliberate gaining. That was a girlfriend who had issues with being denied, not unlike Shar's reaction to her doctor. I agree that metabolisms adjust with bazaar affects. I used to drop 15 pounds in two weeks going from the end of football season to wrestling season. I did that for several years and I think it permanently messed up my metabolism.  I can put on weight just matching what my wife eats and I outweigh her by about 140 pounds, and I am more active.

I am figuring that Collette was used to very healthy eating to start and her system was not used to rich foods. I think she would be susceptible to put on serious weight if she was hitting rich, sugar, and butter foods. Doing research for the story, I experimented with having girl scout cookies within reach for a weekend. I finished four boxes without ever feeling full, while eating my regular meals. That was an extra 5,500 calories without effort. As I noted, the calorie math works with that 3,500 to 3,900 calories a day.

I have experimented with some of the eating that I am describing and it is very easy to get up into the 4,500 range in a day. The woman in my office has gained probably half of what Collette gained in a slightly longer time period and she thought that she was eating normally. Towards the end of her tour in Europe she was eating six meals a day plus snacks. I have also seen that done by two women on a cruise. It was only 10 days, but they each gained over 10 pounds. They had some theory that if they were gorging, the calories wouldn't stick as easily. I think that is true, there is only so much that the body can process and at a certain level of onslaught the food is not really getting digested. BUT, I think under 4,000 a day is going to all stick.

My intent is for this to be realistic and not fantasy based, which is why I am asking for some real input. I guess the question for people is what is the most that they put on in one month to three months. ChubbyBunny160 hasn't yet posted the results of her month long experiment with trying to gain weight, although the one picture that she posted promises a good report. Hopefully, her numbers can provide some guidance.

Thanks

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22 hours ago, dania201 said:

Your math makes sense on calories—the big problem there is that even most nutritionists have come to realize it’s a bit of bunk science. Ask a binge eater or a feeder—the body’s metabolism in real life ends up actually gaining 8-12 pounds a month if you are going COMPLETELY gangbusters. And even that is rare and impossible to maintain at that rate for many months at a time. 

So it’s not that the math doesn’t check out, just that anyone in real life would be having a different experience based on the empirical evidence. 

As far as the story goes, you could:

1) ignore that and figure it’s just fantasy 

2) modify the time scale in the story, so that one month is three or four, and these chapters are taking us through the months that are becoming a blur as the weight piles on ❤️ 

3) decrease the amount she’s gaining, though the shock around the changes may still exist 

 

I like your writing and LOVE the way these characters are starting to uncover parts about themselves that they had never expected—but are careful, doubtful, and worried at times—that part feels so real. Totally identify with that!

I think I have the solution: While Eric had noticed it, Collett was unaware that she may have gained 10 or even 15 pounds the previous spring. Its not as if she was weighing herself regularly and she had been 130 for so long, it just seemed to be a fixed number. If she was actually 140 when she left, and 183 when she got back. That is 43 pounds in just over three months, which I think is close enough to your idea of what can be gained in a month. There is no doubt in my mind that it is not that impossible to gain 14 or 15 pounds in a month. Let me know what you think.

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Maybe not 14-15 lbs a month sustained, but as a one-off, yeah I could see it. 

 

I think your solution works well..also maybe as you go through the story, where you would have otherwise said “a week later”, just say “several weeks later” or something to that effect—suddenly it becomes a lot more believable. 

 

I like the upper middle class class references though. Not a lot of stories articulate that very well. This is good—especially because it makes it so much more socially rebellious to get fat in those circles, as well as view the visible disdain folks give you...🤷🏻‍♀️

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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.

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45 minutes ago, dania201 said:

Maybe not 14-15 lbs a month sustained, but as a one-off, yeah I could see it. 

 

I think your solution works well..also maybe as you go through the story, where you would have otherwise said “a week later”, just say “several weeks later” or something to that effect—suddenly it becomes a lot more believable. 

 

I like the upper middle class class references though. Not a lot of stories articulate that very well. This is good—especially because it makes it so much more socially rebellious to get fat in those circles, as well as view the visible disdain folks give you...🤷🏻‍♀️

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.

 

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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.

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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."

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