(author unknown)
Belinda was 12, and I was 15. She was the girl next door.
Our parents were the best of friends, and she was like a
little sister, and I was her big brother.
She was about to go through puberty, and her mother loved
to share every detail with my mother. I guess they both
figured I would be deaf when it came to women talk. I
guess they were never little boys, who picked up on
everything related to girls growing into women.
I don't know if liking Belinda made me like large women,
or liking large women made me like Belinda. But the year
that made Belinda into a woman was the year that made me
into an FA.
At that age, three years was too much of an age gap, so I
never had a romantic interest in her. Belinda had been
chubby, but by year's end she would be a super sized girl,
by far the largest in the school. She wasn't the most
unpopular girl, but she did get more than her share of
teasing.
Her mother never criticized her for her size, perhaps
because she never ate that much. But she did have her
hands full trying to clothe her. Living in a small town
didn't help. It was an hour drive to the big city. I
remember when her mother asked my mother to drive with her
to get Belinda's first bra. It was a 40. I remember
using the Sears catalog as a reference to all of their bra
talk. That was just before her big weight gain.
As she started to mature, she had outgrown her chubby
girl's clothes. She was wearing misses sizes. At first
her training bra barely pushed out sweaters. But it
didn't take long until breasts were getting round a full.
But along with her breasts, her tummy was pushing its way
out front. I loved to watch her clothes hung out. In one
section of the clothesline, there would always be three of
her dresses or pants hanging.
One day her mother came over frantic. Belinda had just
outgrown her size 20 clothes. "I don't know what I'm
going to do,"She said. Back in those days, the only
large size stores carried grandma clothes above a size
20. My mother went shopping. The only clothes they came
back with were maternity clothes. Belinda was really
upset. I calmed her down. But I thought she really
looked cute. She had just gotten a 44C bra. She looked
cute as her breasts pushed out the top of her maternity
top, as it draped over her tummy, which was pushing out
the maternity panel of her pants. She wore maternity
clothes for a few months until she let a tag hang out, and
the other kids made fun of her. The sleeves were getting
too tight anyway.
The next clothes were black grandma styles, she wore to
school, and big housecoats she wore around the house. Her
mother said she really hated wearing them. I liked
watching them on the clothesline too, but where three had
fit, now only two would fit. But she was even outgrowing
them. From listening to the mothers talk, she had gained
100 pounds in one year, going from a chubby 150 to 250
pounds. She was now wearing a 26 dress. But what excited
me the most was her bra size of 46DD. Here she was a
young lady of 13 in a crowd of girls still in training
bras wearing a super support bra.
We continued to be friends until she graduated high
school. She had gained an average of only 10 pounds a
year after her 100 pound year. She was a very pretty and
poised young lady of 300 when she graduated high school.
Her parents had moved away, and she moved with them. My
parents kept in touch by writing. I had thought of her
once in a while, wondering how she was really doing. Her
parents said she was doing fine, but didn't go into any
details.
Then I got a call from my parents. They told me that
Belinda was moving back into town, because she had gotten
a promotion. She was now 22, and I was 25. They asked if
I would help her move. I was anxious to help her, since
for the first time, our ages were no longer too far apart.
By this time I had dated a number of large ladies, and was
comfortable with my preference. She had called me, and
told me that she got an apartment, and her father would be
driving a rental truck with her furniture.
She was to get in a day before the furniture. I asked her
to dinner, and agreed to meet at my apartment. My mind
was went crazy with all of the scenarios with her weight.
Did she continue to gain 10 pounds a year, and now 340?
Maybe she had another 100 pound year? Or maybe she was
still 300 pounds? It didn't matter, since I liked her,
and also wondered what she was like as an adult.
The big day came, and there was a knock on the door. I
opened the door, and was shocked to find that she was now
a 120 pound knockout. She was really pretty, and she was
still quite busty. We never did discuss weight, so
neither one of us brought up her new figure. We had
dinner, and came back to my apartment, and talked for
quite a while. She had reservations at the local hotel,
since her furniture wasn't due until the next day.
I met her and her father at her new apartment. She was
wearing a tight shocking pink sweater and pants. It was
quite a change from the black dresses she wore through
most of her high school days.
All of the furniture was in, and her father left. Belinda
asked me to stay, and help her with the boxes. It seemed
that both of us wanted to discuss her change, but didn't
feel comfortable bringing it up. We also hit it off very
well, considering that our childhood relationship was
totally platonic. I think we were both attracted to each
other, but knew we were the wrong age for each other then.
I finally picked up a box labeled old clothes, and asked
where she wanted them. It seemed to both of us that it
was the time to discuss her weight. "Well, you may have
noticed I lost some weight, actually quite a bit--280
pounds." They told me a year ago, that I may be
transferred back to this area. That's when I went on my
diet. I wanted to look good for the old crowd. She then
opened the box, and spread a dress in front of her. This
is my biggest. I weighed 400 pounds. Wait a minute, she
said. She went into her bedroom, and put her dress over
her clothes, and came back out. Well, what do you think?
Without thinking, I blurted out, "It looks nice." "What
do you mean by that," She said. "Well, er, it's a nice
dress." Then she said, "You're not one of those guys who
likes big women, are you?" Then I said, "Well maybe a
little plump." She said, "This is a size 60 dress. It's
not worn by plump women. It's worn by super-sized obese
women."
"Well. . .," I said. "I lost 280 pounds so that I could
look attractive to you, and you don't like the way I
look." I told her that she was still attractive. She
then said, "Well wait until my doctor sees me. He's been
trying to get me to go on a diet for 18 years. I have a
check-up scheduled tomorrow. I can't wait to show him I
finally lost weight." The subject changed, and we worked
into the night.
I saw her the next day after work. She seemed unhappy.
Was your check-up okay, I asked. There's nothing wrong
with me. But I could kill the doctor. He bugs me to lose
weight for 18 years. I finally do it, and now he tells me
that dieting is bad, and that I'll probably gain it back
and more. I can never imagine being 400 again.
We had continued to see each other frequently. At first,
it was all tied to her moving and getting settled.
However, once she was settled, we saw each other very
frequently. Sometimes we had very formal dates, other
times we just hung out at once of our places.
We had shown each other our photo albums. With the
combination of me being with fat women, and her being 400
pounds, we were talking more about size. "Where were you
when I was 400 pounds," she asked. I told her that there
are plenty of men who would have dated her. She had told
me that she had plenty of friends in school, but when she
went to a strange town in the business world she had no
social life. "That was the first time I really overate.
I gained about 25 pounds each year. I was wearing big
dresses a lot. But then I had some pants made. The
seamstress measured me, and informed me that I gad a 60
inch waist. That really upset me, but it wasn't until
several months later when I sat down, and ripped a three
inch hole in the seam. That was when I went on my diet."
She invited me into her bedroom, and opened the walk-in
closet door. She had all of her clothes arranged by size
starting from the front and going around to the back and
returning to the front. Besides the change in size, there
was an obvious change in color. Her small things were
really bright. As the size got larger, the colors got
darker, until all of her large items were black. I
probably should donate all of these things, but some
people put pictures on their refrigerators. This is my
reminder. I never want to wear another tent dress again.
She took the size 60 pants off of the hanger, and showed
me the split in the seam. I secretly cursed my luck for
not being with her when she was that big.
Each time we saw each other, we were now talking about
weight freely. She had asked me a lot about a fat
organization that I belonged to. She apologized for not
being large, and told me that she hoped that I would still
keep seeing her, and hope that her slimness didn't turn me
off. She then tried to use the past to keep my interest.
At first, she talked a lot about being large. Then she
would use visual aids. She had shown me her 60F bra.
There was probably more material in that than there was in
her pants.
I had no intention of dumping Belinda. She was fun to be
with and very beautiful. At least she understood fat
people. Seeing her large clothes, and pictures of her 400
pound body also interested me. She ate very little to
keep her figure, but she didn't bore me with diet talk.
It wasn't until were dating for several months that she
cheated on her diet. However, once she started cheating,
it was easier for her to cheat the next time. She had
seemed serious in keeping the weight off, so I didn't
think she would let herself get too big. Although I would
have to admit that I was hoping to see the old Belinda.
She may have gained 10 pounds, and lost it several times.
However, as we were getting along even better, she finally
decided that worrying about that same 10 pounds was a
waste of effort. After eating more normally, she had shot
up 25 pounds. It was the first time that she had to go to
a new section of her closet. She had developed a cute
tummy, and her butt was a little bigger, but she really
wasn't fat.
While she gave in to the 10 pounds, she wasn't willing to
keep the 25 pounds, so it was back to the diet. I didn't
mind encouraging her, since I could show her that I liked
her no matter what.
She had lost the 25 pounds, and was back into the clothes
that I met her in. However, that diet was the straw that
broke the camel's back. While continuing on a maintenance
plan, she was no longer able to stabilize her weight.
In took only a month to gain back the 25 pounds. She was
upset, especially since she couldn't eat much less than
she was already eating. But it didn't stop there, she
just kept on gaining.
"Where will I stop," She cried. I tried to calm her. She
finally decided that we had each other, and I didn't mind
how big she got. She also had a closet full of clothes,
so she didn't have to spend the time or money buying new
clothes.
I thought that she would be upset talking about her gain,
and wearing larger clothes, and having me seeing her gain.
However, it turned out to be quite the opposite. I think
it was because it reassured her that I thought she was
still attractive.
She would give me a private fashion show each time she
went up to the next size. This was each month or two.
She would model all of her clothes in the size. It was
great, since it was just like when she was younger, but
this time I didn't have to watch from a distance as a
child.
It seems that she no longer saw a need to diet or watch
what she ate. This caused her to gain even faster. As
time went on, she became almost boastful about her gain.
When she hit 300, she treated me to dinner to celebrate.
She had the largest Sundae, something she had never
ordered before. She did tell me that she probably
wouldn't order it again. I still don't want to ever hit
400 again. I'm sure my gaining is near an end.
I also thought she had peaked out. I had known a lot of
people who women who stopped gaining at 300. It seemed to
be her natural point, since she had plateau at that point
when she was in high school.
However, about six weeks later, she told me it was time
for another fashion show. I told her that I thought she
had stopped gaining. I wish, she said. Can you help me?
She asked. I said yes. When I get this big, it's not as
easy to get dressed. I figured that she had managed
before, so she just wanted to get me involved. Can you
get me my size 50 clothes from the closet. They're in the
middle on the left side. I laid them out on the bed. She
then said, In the fourth drawer, can you get my 48DD bra?
She then asked me to take off her old clothes. I hadn't
noticed how tight they were, but her dress was almost like
a girdle, holding in her flesh. I then unhook her bra,
which was digging into her flesh. I then helped her with
her new bra, which was big enough not to dig. I then
zipped up her dress. I enjoyed following the rolls up her
back with the zipper.
The private fashion shows continued. She was getting
concerned as she was well into her 300's. But she still
enjoyed flaunting what she had. What if I get bigger than
I was? I can't imagine being over 400. I told her that
she probably couldn't being over 300 before she was, but
somehow she managed. But what if I get too big for you?
I told her not to worry.
Without telling her, I had ordered some catalogs for
super-super sized women. The clothes went up to 9X, and
they would custom make even larger sizes.
When she hit 375, she was really concerned again. She had
me get her clothes--this time they were at the end of the
closet--her largest size. Her bra was a 56F. I guess
I'll have to sew up those pants I showed you, where I
ripped the seam. What am I going to do if I outgrow
these?
I then showed her the catalog. Why don't we order some
clothes tonight? She ordered several outfits in 7X. You
really care about me, don't you? she asked. And you
really like my body. You know, being this big isn't that
bad having you around. She went into the refrigerator,
and made a a huge sundae, filled with syrup, whipped
cream, and candy. She usually didn't eat that much, but
it was a symbolic gesture showing me that she was no
longer afraid of exceeding 400. I looked at the sundae,
and teased her, saying we'd better put a rush on the
order.
The clothes came a week later. They were too big on her,
but that was to be expected since they were meant to be
bigger than her current clothes. She did wear them some
of the time, since they were a lot more colorful than her
basic blacks.
A month or so later, we were hanging out at Belinda's.
She told me that she had grown into her 7x's. I'm now the
biggest I've ever been. Can you really find a 400 pound
woman attractive? What if I get bigger? What if I never
stop gaining?
I calmed her down. I told her that most of the woman I
dated were around 300, and that 350 was the largest. But
when I learned that she was 400 before, I kind of felt
cheated. I liked her very much, and would have accepted
her at any weight. But I would have always wondered what
it would have been like to know her then. I've known a
lot of large women, and a lot of dieters. I told her that
I had good news and bad news. She would probably keep
gaining beyond her former weight. However, unless she
dieted again, she would probably hit her set point at some
time.
Several weeks later, were again at her house. By this
time, I had a key to her apartment. There was a Lane
Bryant package on her steps. When Belinda came in, I
handed her the package. She opened it, and pulled out a
bra. I remember when my bras fit in a large envelope.
Now it takes a whole box. This isn't like any bra I've
worn before, but it's the only thing in my size. Do you
mind helping me? She unbuttoned her blouse, and I
unhooked her old bra. The sides had bunched up between
her rolls, and there was excess flesh hanging out of the
top of the cups. I took her new bra out of the package.
Each side past the cups were several feet long. The
anchoring band under the cups was three inches wide. The
straps were also three inches wide. She lifted her large
pendulous off of her midriff, and put them in the cups. I
then stretched the rest of the bra around her sides and
back noticing the 58DD size tag, and hooked the eight
hooks required to close the bra.
That feels so much better, but it's so ugly. Wouldn't you
rather have a woman with a normal bra? I told her that
she still didn't understand FA's. I liked very large
women, and that certain things, including tent dresses,
special bras, etc. goes with the package. If I liked
spaghetti strap bras, I would date women with spaghetti
strap figures.
Fall was coming, and the air became crisper. It was a
Saturday, and I went out to get her mail. There was a
catalog from her favorite clothing source. I asked her,
if she was going to order her fall wardrobe. I guess so,
she said. I sure can't fit in last winter's clothes. As
a matter of fact, I almost can't fit in these anymore.
She then patted her tummy, which was almost to her knees
as she sat on the couch. But what am I going to do?
There's only one size left. I don't want custom made
clothes. It's so embarrassing. And they want my
measurements. I don't know what they are. I don't even
know how to measure. My stomach's in one place when I'm
seated, and another when I stand. And what am I going to
do for bras. Nobody makes them to measure. I told her
not to think that far ahead.
Of course, as luck would have it, when she needed the
clothes fast, it took longer to come. While she could
still wear her 7x clothes, her flesh pushed out the
fabric. Her tent dresses couldn't conceal the numerous
rolls of fat that she had acquired.
When her clothes came, she held it up and stretched it
out. It's so big, she said. I smiled and said "I know."
I then stole a kiss while she had her tight clothes on,
and I could feel her body pressing against me. She put on
her new dress. While her body was more hidden, she
appeared more massive. I looked and admired, as I thought
to myself, that I definitely preferred a woman being her
size.
This time, it took several months for her to fill out her
clothes. She had gone for another check up. The doctor
had gotten a special scale. She was up to 478. But she
was quite healthy. We looked though the catalog, and she
had ordered several 9X dresses. She also ordered the 60DD
bra from Lane Bryant. She then noticed that the catalog
now went up to 10X. But she had finally hit her set
point, and didn't need the 10X. But she did need a custom
made wedding dress. Luckily, they took her measurements.
She stood proud at the alter with a 74 inch waist, and 83
hips.