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All My Fault


flaming-hades

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Had this fun little scene / story bouncing around my head the other day and I just couldn't stop writing it. Not my usual style I don't think but I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cheers!

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"This is all your fault!" Carol complained as we walked into the bedroom after a night out on a romantic dinner date. 

"I used to be able to wear heels all night long, stand in line in them, dance in them, even walk a few miles in them. Now, because of what you've done to me, I can barely walk to the table at the restaurant in them because my feet are so swollen that every step hurts," Carol bemoaned as she bent over to unstrap her wedges. 

For my once lithe, athletic girlfriend, it used to be an effortless task to bend over her nonexistent waist and quickly undo the slender straps on her heels. Even my slender but softened fiance would have barely struggled to bend over and undo her strap. Yet for my hefty wife, the task of bending over far enough with her large belly stopping her in that tight sexy maxi dress was nearly impossible. 

Reaching a plump, jiggly arm down towards her heels, Carol's already strained olive maxi dress fought back as her stomach rolls pushed on the fabric, restricting her reach to just above her ankles. "Dammit. I can't even undo my own shoes because of you! Get over here and help me out of these infernal things."

As I reflected on the evening, walking over to liberate her swollen ankles from the confining straps, it was hard not to be amused by where my wife was placing blame. I wasn't the one who had insisted on going out for a decadent seven course tasting where I stuffed myself full of delectable plate after delectable plate. Nor was I the one who had insisted, after finishing our second bottle of wine for the evening, that we stop by that late night cookie shop and devour a half dozen sweet treats on our ride home. Maybe I was responsible for how Carol partially arrived at her current state and perhaps I had encouraged such gluttonous behavior in the past, but I was in no way culpable for tonight's decisions. Besides, she hadn't needed me to get into those heels at the start of the night, just to get out of them after overfilling her swollen gut. 

"Thanks babe. Now you better help me get out of this dress too,  I feel like an overstuffed sausage in its casing. You're going to have to roll me home if I can ever even squeeze into this again. Now take it off," she demanded with a slightly softer yet firm tone. 

"Gosh. Can you believe that I used to go out every other night in a tight top and mini skirt. I used to be able to count my abs and have every guy in the club drooling over my hourglass body. I don't even know if I ever paid for a drink in my life since all I had to do was smile and wiggle. I recall you in particular just couldn't get enough of me out at the club, or at the gym. You practically fell over to buy me another drink and always seemed to be nearby when I was working out," Carol reminisced. 

"I seem to really only recall a lot of sports bras and yoga pants at the gym but I'm pretty sure you were the one constantly trying to workout around me. You even deliberately used to cut me off at the water fountain just bend over and show off that pert ass of yours along with those wide hips from your 'hourglass' figure as you call it," I teased, walking around her far more abundant curves to unhook the top of her dress. 

"Well before you came along, I had worked hard for years to develop that delightful bubble butt you so adored and those rock hard washboard abs you used to stroke. I don't recall you having anything but nice things to say about me when you weren't too busy drooling. Don't flatter yourself about the water fountain though, I did that trick for all of the boys so don't think you were anything special."

"Maybe you did that with them, but you practically shoved your breasts into me every time we went out clubbing. Pretty sure that's how you always got me to buy you free drinks. Especially that one night when you wore those leather pants and leather corset. They were practically tipping you over out of that outfit with how far forward the corset pushed them," I teased, kissing her briefly on the neck as I worked the zipper slowly down her back.

Of course, those days of slipping into skin tight leather pants, booty shorts, and yoga pants that accentuated her perky behind, lean muscular thighs, and impressive thigh gap were far behind her. While the mental image of those two floating spheres above shapely muscular legs was still ingrained in my mind, hypnotically bouncing and swaying with each step or beat of the music, it was difficult to overlay that mental image against the reality I was seeing as I unzipped her dress. 

As the tigut zipper slowly inched it's way down Carol's back, her excess back fat seemed to gradually ooze back out, free of its olive confines. Love handles that occupied space she once never took up jiggled in delight at being freed. 

There were no muscles on display anymore, but there certainly was a spectacle of a bottom half. All of those years of shaping up her legs and glutes had left a wonderful foundation to grow upon and boy had they grown. Each monumental cheek easily exceeded the width of a basketball with wondrous depth and softness bouncing violently as each cheek escaped its taught olive confines as I fought to pull over their peaks. Not to be outdone by her expansive shelf, Carol's hips had done nothing but widen since those gym days, growing to support her burgeoning figure, leaving me with hardly any material to roll and pull down as I tried to liberate them. To support her growth elsewhere, her once enviable thighs with their admirable thigh gap had been sealed shut by a thick layer of padding, not leaving so much as a hint of their former muscular shape. 

"I recall my juicy butt more than keeping me balanced," Carol remarked with an earthquake like shake of her derriere as the dress hit the floor. "Though I'm surprised you even remember my delicious body since you were always too busy pumping me full of Long Island ice teas and late night pizzas. No wonder those leather pants don't fit anymore."

"I did no such thing!" I protested despite knowing fully well I had done exactly what Carol described. 

"Sure. And the girls just magically swelled up to Hs from Ds with this gargantuan belly appearing out of nowhere," she retorted, cupping her bra and shaking her deep cleavage violently for emphasis. Waves of violent jiggling echoed across her round sagging belly from the movement before all of her gave a few shakes. 

"Now that we've cleared up that this is all your fault..." Carol seethed as she struggled to undo her massive bra before finally letting her impressive chest bounce freely as gravity pulled on her hefty melons. "Are you going to at least properly pleasure your poor wife who has had to suffer through another difficult evening being reminded how much she's changed?"

With a surprising leap, given her prolific size, Carol crawled to the back of the bed with her inflated ass rippling and bouncing over her equally enthralling thighs and chunky calves. Plopping down to face me, Carol crossed her plump arms over her engorged chest and made as much angry cleavage as she possibly could with a scowl on her double chinned face. "I think you owe me that much."

"You know, with all of this blaming and complaining, I thought you might want me to go sign you back up for the gym," I teased, admiring how her large beach ball like belly sat comfortably on top of her incredibly thick thighs, all framed by her wide hips. "Maybe we can get you a personal trainer or see if Grace wants to be your workout buddy again."

"Oh absolutely not. I worked far too hard on this figure to let it waste away at some gym!" Carol exclaimed as she spread out her arms, dropping her hefty melons in the process. "I never want to step foot in a gym ever again.  The walk to the fridge for ice cream are the only exercise this divine body needs. Besides, Grace is even worse than me after what you and David did to her. Now... are you going to show your sexy whale of a wife how much you love her big fat body or should I go grab those new jumbo silk pajamas you bought me?"

Temporarily stunned by the sight of her bouncing chest, I struggled to form a response, ogling their seductive bounce and swing. A naughty smirk broke across Carol's face at my expense. 

"Can't a man hurry up and pleasure his wife?! Sheesh" she chided, snapping me out of my trance. 

"I would love to. But first, I thought I'd go get those chocolates covered strawberries from the fridge for you to snack on as we play."

"Now you're speaking my language. Getting out of that dress and all of that fit to fat foreplay talk has really worked up my appetite," she said with a beaming grin that showed all three of her chins. "Can you bring up some ice cream too?"

"Of course my dear."

"...and the whipped cream?" Carol asked with pleading yet playful tone. 

"Anything for my amazing wife. I love you." 

"I love you too. Now go get me my treats then pleasure me all night long. A girls got to maintain her peak sexual energy level and physique for her loving husband!"

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