# Fat Husbands Club - by Big Chris (~BHM (Multiple), Eating, ~MWG)



## Observer (Jun 7, 2009)

_~BHM (Multiple), Eating, ~MWG_ - a group of housewives decide to secretly fatten their spouses

*Fat Husbands Club
by Big Chris*​
*Chapter One*

The three women always enjoyed these morning get-togethers -- a time to relax after their husbands had gone to work and much of the early day chores had been completed. Julie Tyson, Kim Filbert, and Rhonda Wesson lounged in the breakfast nook of Julie's spacious home as the dappled light of the May sun filtered through the large oak tree just outside the bay window of the nook in which they had gathered. 

Since they had met at a mixer for new residents of their housing development (they had all moved in within two months of each other, the year before), they had been fast friends, perhaps at least partly due to their age: all were in their mid-to-late thirties.

Julie was the sprightly, always cheery one: spunky to the point of almost tiring out her friends whenever there was some collective event. This short, dark-haired, slim tornado was well-known for out-baking, out-cleaning, out-party prepping all of the neighborhood. Most times, the other women just let Julie loose with her usual whirlwind of activity, watching in amazement as she flew around in a bird-like flurry of constant motion, taking care of things most others might not even think of ... at least, they might not consider those things worthy of such frenetic attention. 

Her long hair -- usually braided behind her -- trailed out and flapped as she rounded corners like a runaway train, making all prudent bystanders leap aside and let her pass. Still, she was funny and bright and most folks in the neighborhood appreciated her energy, even if they had no desire to keep up with her. Julie was always the person who welcomed a new couple at the mixers, making them feel very much at home; some of the women (and men) remarked that she must have been a cruise director in a former life.

Kim, on the other hand, was the highly mellow one: laidback and languid in her manner, she let most everything that was stressful just wash over her and flow down the sink of her endless lack of concern for all that was considered jaw-clenching in daily life. Of medium height and build -- that not-quite-thin, but not really plumpish look so common in housewives -- she was the one who laughed off the calorie frettings as the neighborhood women told each other (at one of their many weekend parties) how they shouldn't eat any more of the party dip, and then promptly did just that. 

Kim didn't even play that "Oh, I shouldn't be eating this" game ... she went right for the dip, never worrying and never gaining, either. Others said it wasn't fair; Kim assumed it was good luck for not being such a worry-wart. She would give a characteristic sigh of long-sufferance at the other women's worries, running her fingers through her short-cropped auburn hair, sometimes even rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue in a joking display of disapproval. It was not universally understood to be in jest and some of the local women thought Kim to be a tad haughty, but most liked her. In her militantly non-flustered way, she was a quiet dynamo: someone who always came through with the difficult-to-make party dessert, for while she did not have the energy of Julie, she had a plodding and productive way in the kitchen.

Rhonda was the youngster of the bunch. She was three years younger than the other two women who were both 38. Some people referred to Rhonda as "35 going on 25," but this was unkind, untrue, and generally a reflection of the fact that she was not the brightest star in the sky. A sweet person of genuine and pleasant temperment, Rhonda was perhaps more naive than dim -- she never seemed to "get" any of the more worldly jokes told at parties or the informal gatherings as people walked outside on cool evenings, but what she lacked in intellectual capacity, she made up for in looks. She was stunningly beautiful. 

In true male fashion, all of the men in the area secretly wondered what it would be like to "be" with Rhonda; they certainly wouldn't be threatened by her I.Q. and they certainly wouldn't "kick her out of bed," as the coarsest of the husbands often said. She was understood more completely by her closest friends, including Julie and Robert Tyson, Kim and her husband Patrick, and a number of other people who lived on her street. They all viewed her as an unsullied, completely unjaded creature of kindness, sweetness, and light; she never spoke an unkind or catty word about anyone. Plus, even though she was not a walking Encyclopedia Britannica, she had an amazing knack for cooking without ever measuring ingredients or using a cookbook of any type. That talent was as instinctive as the migration of swallows, something that amazed all those who knew her well.

Rhonda's husband, Ted, called her an "angel on earth," and loved her for her many wonderful qualities, not just her beauty ... and whenever his wife walked into the room -- her shoulder-length red hair cascading over milky shoulders, her perfect curves moving with cat-like grace -- his heart melted all over again. They had only been married a year and were considered the newlyweds of the neighborhood. Most of the nearby couples had been married at least five years or more and had gotten well into the "Why don't you pick up your own damned socks!" stage of negotiative marital skills.

On this warm and sunlit May morning, the talk turned to recipes and cooking, and the degree to which each husband seemed to appreciate certain meals more than any other. Julie walked over to the fridge to grab another glass of apple juice, chuckling over Robert's words of the previous evening: "You know what Robert said?? He told me he just couldn't stop eating my lasagna; it was as though it had a potion mixed into it ... one that made a person keep eating until it was all finished. He said I'd better not serve that too many nights or he'll end up getting quite fat." 

As she turned towards the other women, drinking her freshly poured juice, she had a faraway look in her eye that caused Kim to probe.

"Whatcha thinking there, Julie?? You look like you suddenly went off into the ozone." Julie took another sip, trying to think of how to explain this feeling that had come over her. It was one that even she did not fully understand, one that did not come with dread or displeasure. She walked back to the table and sat down as Kim and Rhonda watched her pause in her answer; Julie tried to find the right words or the reason for saying them out-loud.

"I was just trying to picture what Robert would look like if he were fat. After he joked about that, I found myself thinking of him as a fatter man ... walking into the kitchen, sitting down to eat my lasagna, growing even fatter as he ate it ... patting his stomach -- that sort of thing." J

ulie had surprised herself by being so candid, even with her best friends. If anything, you usually fantasized about her mate growing slimmer and more "buff" ...not growing fatter before your very eyes. She suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, perhaps more so because as she revealed that thought, she had felt a twinge of excitement. What Julie was not yet prepared to say was that she had thought about Robert as a fatter, bigger-bellied man on more than one occasion. She had never really come to terms with these fantasies, perhaps because she had never been able to give voice to them. 

Kim leaned back and laughed, completely non-plussed and unfazed by this admission. She had her own admission to make: "Hey Julie, join the club ... I've thought about that a number of times. Patrick's family is full of bigger, well-fed guys. My hubby is the smallest of the bunch, but that's only because he really watches what he eats. He has to ... I don't think they want these volunteer paramedic rescue squad members to grow too fat. Might not go over too well with the county. But you know Patrick: he's a bit vain, mostly in regards to his percentage of body fat. Frankly, I prefer a man with some meat on his bones ... er ... well, especially..." 

It was here that she decided to pause, wondering how to state it --

"....especially around the middle." Kim noticed a look of surprise on Julie's face and there was no back-tracking now, so she continued: 

"Yeah, that's right ... I do think bigger bellies look good on a guy. I don't really know why, but I've always thought so, maybe because my dad was a big guy. My mom loved him so much, thought he was the most gorgeous guy on the planet. Used to come over and pat his belly in the kitchen, just before dinner ... tell him what she was cooking for him, joking about how she was going to have to let-out his pants after dinner. And, more often than not, that turned out to be the truth. She spent a lot of time letting-out his pants. He just kept getting bigger and bigger ... and you know what?? She couldn't keep her hands off that belly of his! And I'll be honest: not long after I married Patrick, I started thinking about how his belly would feel in my hands if I fattened him up with my dinners." 

Kim's frankness seemed to melt Julie's embarrassment, and as Julie sat back down, she stared at Kim with a somewhat serious look -- one that spoke of acknowledging a long-held and personal secret. She glanced down as she started to speak of this secret with Kim and Rhonda: "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I used to think about bigger guys ... this goes back many years, even back to high school. I went out with this guy who played football; after he hurt his knee, he had to stop playing and he started to put on some weight. He put on quite a belly and as he did, he sort of felt embarrassed and stopped wanting to go out. He ended up dumping me because of how he felt about himself. But I really liked the way he looked ... I even -- Man! I can't believe I'm saying this! -- used to think about him as I fell asleep, wondering how it would be to massage his bigger belly."

Rhonda turned to Julie and asked her if she had told him of her feelings: "Did you ever tell that guy you thought he looked good after he gained? Maybe he felt really bad ... maybe figured you thought he was gross or something." 

Rhonda thought about her new husband's tummy, how it had softened just a tiny bit from her cooking, but nothing that was noticeable with his clothes on. She realized she rather liked the feel of it ... wondering how much more she would like it, if it were to grow much bigger.

Julie sighed, shrugged, and admitted to Rhonda that she had not told the football player how she was attracted to his increased girth. "No, I didn't ... I suppose I should have, but I didn't. I didn't know how to tell him. Remember, this is high school, for heaven's sake! You don't go around telling people that you like fatter bellies on guys!" 

The gals all laughed, realizing that admitting something like this was a sure-fire way to have everyone in the school deem you a weirdo of the first order. It was just not done, not even as adults ... at least, not in most social circles.

Rhonda drummed her fingers on the table and looked at Julie, speaking slowly, softly, and with compassion: "It would have made him feel a lot better, I'm sure ... and who knows, maybe he was the sort of guy who looks better with a big tummy. Some men are like that." 

The youngest of the bunch thought about her own Ted, trying to picture his belly growing rounder and more full from her cooking. As she did so, she felt a nervous flush come over her, one that astounded her -- why had she not admitted this to herself before, this desire? She was clearly getting excited thinking about it. She kept trying to make an image of Ted become clear in her mind's eye -- one of him sitting in their kitchen, eating big servings of her delicious pie until his belly became so much bigger he had to undo his pants. 

Just several nights before, Ted had patted his own stomach after dinner, and Rhonda had almost expected him to turn around, suddenly showing himself to be much rounder and fatter; but when he turned, it was his usual, fairly flat stomach she saw ... and she had realized she was somewhat disappointed it had not grown from that delicious meal. It was Kim's raucous laughter that ended her reverie.

"Well, aren't we a bunch of pervs, sitting around and talking about fat guys and how much we like the way they look!" Kim laughed again at her own way of describing their discussion, knowing deep down that the laughter masked a very real and deep desire and inclination for perhaps all of them -- one that had not surfaced in all of their minds until this topic had somehow come sliding into their collective consciousness, sudden and bright like a comet's streak across a moonless night. 

Julie felt obligated to defend her feelings and her fantasies about a fatter Robert. She didn't want the other girls to think she was weird; that "perv" comment by Kim made her wonder about her thoughts and whether she had any reason to fear being some kind of pervert.

"I don't really think these thoughts are pervy, are they?" Julie asked her friends, "I mean, look -- there are all kinds of body types, and there's no reason any type is any better than another ... except, of course, when it comes to what you happen to gravitate towards. We all know that T.V. shows mostly negative images of fatness, but how many people really think it looks gross. And the bigger question is this: how many people prefer fatter partners? We might all be surprised by the answer to that." 

As she finished, stopping to down the last of the juice in her glass, she wondered how many people would be surprised at this discussion they were having; it was very clear, the direction this discussion was taking: all three women had obviously had fantasies and thoughts of fatter husbands, and it was also clear -- if they were being honest with themselves and with the others -- that these feelings had not originated with this first open conversation about this topic. So, what to do?

Kim looked out towards the road and suddenly spoke the thought they had all struck upon at almost the same moment without realizing it: "Maybe we'll never know how much we like fatter guys unless we fatten up our own husbands." 

This comment froze all the women for a moment or two; it was so clear, so defining, so absolutely ... necessary. It took a moment for anyone to speak, and when that moment came, it was Rhonda's gentle voice.

"We wouldn't do it without telling them, right? It wouldn't be right to start feeding them stuff we knew would make them really fat, would it?" She felt torn between the excitement of secretly trying to make Ted fatter and the guilt associated with this type of clandestine culinary operation. As much as she tried to make herself fall well within the "guilty" camp, the heat rose within her as she thought of stuffing Ted with delicious and rich dinners until his belt burst under the onslaught of her cooking.

"Well, we wouldn't jam Sarah Lee Pound Cakes down their throats with toilet plungers, if that's what you mean .." Kim huffed, chuckling at the outrageous image that also made Julie laugh, "I don't think we would do anything except make the most scrumptious meals possible and then see if our mates took the bait. If they gain, they gain ... if not, they don't. But the more I think on it, the more I think I could cook food so tempting that Patrick -- vanity or not, rescue squad fitness guidelines or not -- would not be able to resist. I'll bet I could make Patrick fatter than you gals could accomplish with either of your husbands. I've learned a few things over the years."

"Oh, making this into a contest, are we??" Julie leaned over the table towards Kim, eyes blazing with the challenge. "Well, Kimmy ... let me tell you this: I could fatten Robert WAY more than you could fatten Patrick. You would have to get out that plunger to get Patrick to put on more than a pound or two, while Robert would soon be seen carrying his belly around in a wheelbarrow!" 

This image made all three of them roar hysterically, rocking in their chairs, until Julie's phone rang and she had to jump up to answer it.

"Hello? Oh, hi dear ... yeah, I remembered. I bought it on the way home from the antiques place. Yep, I picked that up, too. Dinner? Well, I have to run out to get a couple of things" 

... (Kim and Rhonda looked at each other, almost laughing, stifling their guffaws as they collectively thought, then mouthed (silently) the words: "Don't forget the PLUNGER, Julie!!") ... 

"What was that, dear?" -- Julie waved frantically to try and settle down and stifle Kim and Rhonda, who were still rocking in their chairs, about to burst out laughing 

"Yes, Robert ... I'll make that lasagna if you really want that for tonight. 
Yeah, I'll buy some dessert, too." The two other women finally started to reduce to a simmer, but were giving each other a wicked, arched-eyebrow look when Julie mentioned the word "dessert."

"OK, bye honey ... love you." -- CLICK! -- Julie hung up the phone and admonished her friends: "You gals are so BAD, you know that?! I thought Robert was going to hear you cackling like a couple of magpies ... I sure wasn't going to explain what was so funny!" 

She shook her head as they finally burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves, and wagged her finger. "And NO, I'm not going to get a plunger ... because I don't need it. Maybe you girls do, But I DON'T ... I can manage with just my years of experience in the kitchen." 

Kim and Rhonda both looked up at Julie, wiping tears from their eyes, smiling and wondering if they had heard right.

"So, we're DOING it??? We're actually going for it??" Rhonda was astonished that as she said this, she found herself getting aroused by the thought they would attempt such an outrageous thing. Once again, she found herself thinking of Ted's stomach growing larger and larger, protuberant to the point that he needed suspenders to help support the weight of his enormous belly ... she pictured herself climbing onto that mountain of a tummy and making wild and wanton love to his glorious fatness. 

What she didn't know was that all the women had similar thoughts as they grinned to each other, about to make a fateful pact.

"Yep, we're doin' it ..." -- Julie felt relieved to be stating the new charter --

"Girls, welcome to the &#8216;Fat Husbands Club’ -- a secret society where cooking is king and belts are made for breaking. We'll see who can fatten up their men the most, but they can't know what we're up to ... we have to be sneaky about this. It's all "Temptation City," and the rest is up to them. You can lead a husband to a delicious and fattening meal, but you can't make him eat until his shirt buttons pop -- only HE can do that."

Kim looked quizzically at Julie, who was standing by the phone, clapping her hands to her side in glee over their decision. "But wait, Julie ..." 

Kim furrowed her brow and shook her head -- "If we're a secret society, we need a secret handshake; every club like this has one." 

Julie thought for a moment, then bent over double in laughter, recovering to demonstrate her idea.

Julie grinned and said: "Hey, how about THIS one ..." 

She held her hands together, over her belly, and then moved them away, pantomiming a belly growing outward. Kim and Rhonda chortled with delight, but Rhonda said that wasn't enough. They had to have a part of it -- the handshake -- that bound them together in their quest. They were, after all, in this together: they had revealed their secret longings and were now bound by this secret desire to fatten their men.

Julie scurried back to the table, sat down, and remarked that she had the answer. "OK, here! We clap our hands together -- a &#8216;high five’ -- then do the handshake, the pantomime of our secret quest." 

With great gusto, the three wives slapped their hands together, high up over the table in the breakfast nook, then leaned back in their chairs, laughing as they drew their hands out, imitating the ballooning of their husbands' bellies. There was no doubt: they were on their way.


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## Observer (Jun 7, 2009)

*Chapter Two *

After Julie, Kim, and Rhonda had made their fateful pact, they spent several evenings calling each other on the phone, deciding how to plumpen their husbands without making the process an obvious one. This required some finesse and clever thinking. Kim thought a very gradual approach was the most sound: get the husbands accustomed to bigger and bigger dinner portions, slowly and inexorably, making them require more food in order to feel full each night. 

Kim's advice: "This should get their waistlines expanding, although it may take a while. But you can be sure it will work and without any suspicion."

Rhonda thought this was probably a good idea and agreed with Kim. "We have to be careful -- if we start stuffing them with all kinds of fattening meals and huge amounts of dessert, they'll surely know something's up ... and we'll be busted." 

She whispered this into her upstairs phone as Ted rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, looking for an after-dinner snack. 

Rhonda, more than any of them, was concerned that the husbands would somehow compare notes and "smell a rat ... or two, or three." Kim teased her for these worries, wondering whether Rhonda thought they might all end up in prison, on a charge of "feeding with the intent to cause husbandly fattening." 

This phrase made Julie roar with laughter, knowing how the youngest of the cabal had the most concerns about their discovery.

"Well, I don't know," said Julie several nights later, "It seems like if we take too long to increase their portions, their metabolisms might slowly get used to the extra calories; they might not gain at all." 

She sniffed at Kim's insistence that any other method was ripe for discovery and disaster. 

"Look, Kim .." -- she continued -- "I have a better idea: we come up some reason why we have to suddenly cook a great deal of food ... and we end up needing their help as taste-testers. Maybe we've entered a contest? Maybe THAT'S it!! We say there is a cooking contest underway -- we read about it on the Web. They won't bother to look it up; it's not a site about cars, sports, or porn, so we're safe. The winner of the contest -- and it can be a group effort -- has to submit a large number of winning recipes, since the entries will eventually be used in a cookbook."

Rhonda, when she heard of this idea, was also skeptical. "Hmmm ... that sounds fishy to me. I'm not sure I would buy it. I don't think they'll necessarily go for the idea of being 'taste-testers.' Especially Patrick -- we all know how vain he is about his weight." 

The more they discussed it, the more Rhonda was convinced that Kim's cautious approach would guarantee success. She was afraid that somehow the men would find out what the wives were doing and be furious. Rhonda said she would be mortified if the guys got wind of this plan to fatten them up.

Julie tried to explain it this way: "Look, I just know the guys are not going to look up any cooking-related site on the Web or ask us much about this contest. And for all we know, they'll be flattered to be asked to judge these recipes. You know men and their egos: they'll be putty in our hands!" 

After much back-and-forth discussion, everyone agreed they would try Julie's approach: they would start cooking and baking both separately and as a team, giving credence to this scenario by having group dinners and picnics -- maybe the men would more readily buy into it if they knew the other husbands were cooperating, helping the wives win the contest as a group. 

The girls knew they had much work ahead of them, and spent a whole week buying ingredients, new cookware, and several cookbooks from which to launch forth with some new recipe variations ... it was a lot of work!

Later that week, on a cool and rainy Saturday, Julie decided to be the first to tell her husband all about the "contest." Robert was tired after coming home from a three-day business trip -- his new job as a software consultant -- and he didn't press for a great deal of detail. 

"That sounds nice, honey .." -- he acted as though he was half-listening -- "I'll help you girls out in any way I can." 

He plopped down on the couch, grabbed the remote and flipped on CNBC, listening to news about tech stocks. As he sat there engrossed, Julie studied her husband from across the room and slightly behind; he was oblivious to her attentions. He really was a handsome man: great chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline, fabulous blue eyes that offset his short brown hair that was just starting to grey at the temples. A strong chest, too ... nice thick, muscular arms.

But how would he look with some extra weight around the middle?? A nice rounded belly to add some bulk and give an even more substantial appeal to his physique would be fabulous! As he flipped the channel over to CNN, Julie was fantasizing about rubbing his rounder belly after a big meal -- perhaps he would even ask her to do that, to help settle his stomach after one of her huge meals? 

That would be delightful ... and as her mind started wandering to thoughts of the bedroom (and how she might enjoy his bulk during their love-making), the phone rang -- it was Rhonda, calling to tell her that Ted was now aware of this "contest." Julie took the portable phone into the downstairs guest room so as not to have Robert overhear their plans.

"Yeah, I told Ted ... he seemed sort of excited. He thought it was great. He said he'd help out in any way ... even laughed about how fun it would be to have a job as 'taste-tester.' I think he really likes the idea of trying out all sorts of new goodies." 

Julie was pleased that Rhonda's husband was so enthusiastic. At least neither of the husbands that had thus far been told had balked at helping the wives by tasting the recipes. This was a good start.

"Well, I told Robert, and he seems OK with it ... he didn't exactly jump up and down with the whole thing, but he's tired from his trip." Julie wished that Robert had been a bit more effusive and excited about their undertaking, but she had to take into account that he had just gotten home from a demanding business trip. 

Rhonda told her to just wait -- there was plenty of time for Robert to get more jazzed-up about the whole deal, perhaps after he was influenced by Ted's enthusiasm. Now both Julie and Rhonda were curious to see if Kim had broached the issue with Patrick; they both knew that if there was to be a "fly in the ointment," it would be Patrick.

Even though Ted was more handsome than Patrick, with soft, sandy-colored hair, a cute chin-dimpled smile and gorgeous green eyes -- (Patrick had nice, thick black hair and a nice smile, but was often said to be a little bit "beady-eyed") -- it was so very obvious that Patrick was the most vain of all the neighborhood husbands. 

He was one of the shortest -- a sinewy, compact person who strutted like a bantam rooster. He was proud of all the sports-related accomplishments he had achieved as a college athlete; he had been one of his university's greatest special teams players, in their successful football program ... in its entire history. He was understandably proud of his football "glory days," as he was of his skill as a rock climber and skier. He worked as a county computer technician, but prided himself more on his work with the local volunteer rescue squad. He talked about he was the fittest of the bunch -- the lowest percentage of body fat. He was competitive in other ways: he sometimes needled Rhonda's husband about Ted's recent job situation.

Ted had worked hard at his job as a sales manager with the biggest car dealership in town, but the organization had been in disarray after the family that owned it had gone into inter-family squabblings and political struggles after the death of the family's patriarch. The resulting political struggle had weakened Ted's standing with the firm and left his career in doubt; nevertheless, with his youthful enthusiasm, Ted never complained and always told Rhonda that things would be alright in the end ... whichever way things turned out. 

Ted never saw himself in competition with others, even amongst his peers in a sales-related business. He just didn't have that "killer instinct," although his soft-spoken manner probably led to more sales than "walk-aways." But Patrick, in his more macho and brusque style, sometimes chided Ted for not "getting in there and busting heads if you have to" -- it was just the way Patrick looked at the world. Ted was more of a gentle soul.

Julie heard Robert turn off the TV and walk into the kitchen, turn on the faucet; she walked to the far back corner of the guest room to prevent her husband from hearing her conversation. She thought he was most probably on his way upstairs, but she couldn't be too careful. "Wait ... Robert got up ... no, he's on his way upstairs, to the bedroom. Whew, I thought he might come in here and start asking questions. What were we talking about?"

Rhonda reminded Julie about Patrick and his manner -- "Right, right! Yeah, Patrick's a sticky wicket. If anyone is going to derail this thing, it's him. I worry that he won't put on a single pound and then start kidding our guys about the weight they've gained. If he does that (and you know how he can be), well ... it could be a disaster. Within a week, our hubbies will be scooting into Jenny Craig ... or worse: they'll be going off to some gym where they'll meet some bimbos ... bimbos they will eventually run off with, AFTER they discover what we've been up to!"

This over-wrought scenario Julie dreamed up was so wild, so paranoid, it made both of them laugh. Rhonda agreed, however, that Patrick's reaction to all the food relating to the "contest" was key ... and if he spooked or got grossed-out over his or anyone else's weight-gain, it was all over. This would be tricky and there was no easy answer. In the end, both Julie and Rhonda resigned themselves to just taking the chance and seeing what happened. 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained ... HA! Gained!! Julie hadn't meant to play punster, but they both got a good chuckle out of it. But this Patrick issue kept looming before them; it was time for one of them to see if Kim had talked to Patrick about all this future cooking and taste-testing.

Julie volunteered to call Kim, and was surprised to find that she had indeed talked to her husband about the fictional contest. He wasn't all that enthusiastic about being a taste-tester, but shruggingly agreed he would help -- "As long as I don't have to eat too much of the stuff." 

This was better than an out-right "No," so both Kim and Julie were heartened Patrick's response. Because Kim was a good sport about her husband (Julie was careful not to tease -- too much -- Rhonda about anything to do with Ted), the two older women had a field day with jokes about Patrick, his physique, and his vanity regarding his body-fat index. 

"Uh-oh, he might gain an extra ounce or two on his waist and be thrown off the rescue squad!" Kim snickered, "They'll tell him he can't do rescue work if he can't SQUEEZE himself into tight spots, to rescue some poor soul ... Yep, those two extra ounces will do it." 

Both Julie and Kim thought this was hysterical: coming up with all sorts of ridiculous scenarios where even the slightest gain would throw Patrick's world off-balance. It was almost inconceivable that Patrick could ever gain more than the slightest amount, given his metabolism and his life-style ... but one never knew. What if he -- somehow, for some strange reason -- gained the most?

"Patrick is so odd about weight issues," Kim related to her friend, "I've seen him stop eating an ice cream treat half-way through because he would say: 'Oh, if I eat it all, I'll get FAT!' ... and sometimes when he'd say that, I'd fantasize about him sitting there, having eaten several whole sundaes, with a round belly sitting on his lap and his shirt buttons about to pop off. I have to admit -- it used to get me SO hot ... does that sound funny?" 

Julie didn't think it was funny at all; she had often experienced moments like this: times when she would day-dream about Robert sitting at the dining room table, his stomach so round, firm and literally bursting out of his shirt ... perhaps even stuffed enough that he'd have to undo his pants, let his bloated belly surge out onto his lap. Oh, how Julie was almost on the verge of a new sexual excitement as she thought about those fantasies; her mind wandered off and Kim had to bring her back to earth.

"You still there? 'Earth to Julie, Earth to Julie ... Come in, Julie!' ..." Kim teased her over the phone, smiling as she twisted the phone cord around her finger, looking at the clock and wondering when Patrick would be driving up the driveway, home from work. Maybe she could get a head-start, make a big dinner for her wiry sweetie? 

Another thing both women had in common -- revealed to one another as they talked further about these long-held feelings -- was an intense curiosity about what sex would feel like with a fattened husband. As they compared notes, they realized they were both fascinated by the tactile aspects of making love to a man who was bigger, somewhat softer, and with a lusciously rounded mid-section one could massage and play with ... climb on top off, kiss, and pat ... like a delicious blend of firmness and pliability -- one that would provide lots of fun for curious and loving hands.

Kim looked dreamily out her bedroom window, trying to conjure up a long-ago memory. She told Julie: "I used to know this couple right after I got out of school ... I think their name was Cooper -- Jim and Sheri Cooper. She took cooking classes for several years after they got married; I think she wanted to start a catering business, but I never knew if she ever started one -- they moved away just after Patrick and I met. I remember how each time I went to visit them, I could tell Jim had put on more weight." 

Julie was intrigued by this steady fattening of a husband and wanted to know more about it. She giggled as Kim continued: "Well, after a while, it was the talk of many of their friends ... I mean, Jim was just getting bigger and BIGGER ... and it was fairly rapid, too. Several of their friends used to joke that it was JIM who had gotten pregnant, and this person actually went up to Jim -- at some point -- and said: 'Hey, Jim ... when are ya due??' ... and I remember thinking: 'What a bold thing to say!' ..." 

Kim was aghast that someone would be that blatant, not knowing how Jim felt about his own weight-gain; but then again, maybe Jim had mentioned how he was enjoying himself -- he certainly seemed immensely happy.

"So, Kim ... was he pretty big by the time you ... well, when you last saw him?" Julie was trying to imagine this well-fed husband smiling, sitting at a dinner table heaped with rich food, lots of gravies, loads of fattening sauces; she wanted to get a clear mental image of a man so stuffed with delicious cooking that his belly kept pushing him back from the table, meal after meal ... rapidly gaining weight until he had to lean back to walk, his stomach bouncing salaciously out in front of him as he waddled to the bedroom, ready to make "fat love" to his waiting wife. The image of this ballooning man was so arousing as Kim described him. 

"Oh, listen ... he was big ... I mean BIG ... the last time I saw them both. Sheri had a hard time finding clothes to fit him -- it seemed she had to let-out his pants a couple of times a week ... no joke! They were small adjustments, but it was constant. The guy had a belly that just kept swelling out, continually. Several times, during a neighborhood picnic, I saw his belly get so swollen, his buttons came undone. Of course, he always wore an undershirt, but still! It was hot! I mean, he was sitting there under this tree, and his fat belly was squooshing through this burst-open shirt. And once -- when she thought no one was looking -- I caught Sheri rubbing his stomach, sort of patting and playing with it. I think she WANTED him fat, in a big way; and he was gaining so quickly, his belly looked like he had a bicycle pump attached to it -- making it balloon outward, more and more ... almost all the time."

Julie reflected on this amazing man and told her friend: "Well, I think we have a long way to go before we get to that point -- to where we can enjoy husbands who pop open their buttons, showing off those fabulous tummies. It sure is nice to dream, though ... isn't it?" They were both wistful, thinking how nice it would be to fall asleep next to such a well-fattened man, spooning against his back, reaching around him to rub and play with such a perfect, round belly. And if he was soft and delicious elsewhere -- say, if he had thicker, softer thighs, a plumpness in his shoulders that was very kissable ... well, that would be quite a bonus. Suddenly, their reverie was interrupted by the gravel crunch of Patrick's Buick coasting down the driveway and into the garage. The whir of the garage door opener made it clear that Kim would have to go downstairs and greet her husband ... it was one of their rituals -- the little "by the laundry room" kiss, as he entered the house each day after work.

"OK, Julie ... gotta go. Patrick's just about to walk in ... what do ya think, should we schedule our first "recipe fest" for this weekend? Hey, we have all the stuff we need." 

Julie told Kim that was a great idea; she let Kim know that she would call Rhonda to let her know the game was afoot: the start of the husband-feeding that would hopefully lead to all of them having nice round bellies to rub, pat, and ride. Yes, the thought of "tummy-riding!" -- it was enough to make one forget how to boil water ... talk about driving one to distraction! 

The two women rang off and Kim scooted down the stairs in time to greet Patrick as he hung his topcoat on the peg by the washing machine. He smiled as she leaned to kiss him, touching him tenderly on his arm, her other hand reaching for his flat (for now) stomach, palm placed so softly against his shirt as to be hardly felt at all. "I missed you, sweetie...." 

Kim gave him a short smack on the lips, then reached for his briefcase. "Here, I'll put this on the table. Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, I'm really thirsty -- it started to get hot today. You know what ... why don't we go out for dinner? That is, unless you've already got something started for dinner." Kim pointed toward the kitchen counter, nodding; she had started fixing something for dinner before talking with Julie. It was in the fridge, now ready to pop on the outside grill. Big, juicy steaks ... all marinated and perfect for a feasty meal. She had potato salad, too ... and a bean and cheese casserole; also, garlic bread and cole slaw. And for dessert, a home-made peach cobbler. Vanilla ice cream, too. She was surprised when she heard Patrick talk about how hungry he was after a hard day's work -- he usually didn't talk in those terms.

"Patrick, I already have something for dinner ... but it's really good stuff. Let's eat in tonight, OK? It won't take long to fix and we can sit out on the deck. It's so nice out tonight, we can fire up the grill and I'll tell you about this weekend. We're going to get together with Julie and Robert, Rhonda and Ted ... we thought it would great to try out some of those recipes we need to work on: the ones we'll need for that contest, remember? We're serious about trying to win this thing; it would be great fun and an wonderful opportunity for all three of us. Julie and Rhonda and I are already getting so excited!"

Her husband seemed pleased with both the night's dinner arrangements as well as the plans for the coming weekend: "Sounds good to me! Yeah, that would be fun, to have a little weekend get-together. I'll get some beer ... are we doing this here? -- (Kim nodded, leading Patrick into the kitchen) -- OK, then I'll make sure the deck's all swept off. Aargh, those pesky pine needles!" 

Kim asked her husband to stop by the grocery store on his way home from work the next day -- she had forgotten to buy some chocolate sauce for the ice cream. Patrick laughed and replied: "Whoa, that stuff'll make us guys FAT! You gals wouldn't want THAT now, would ya?!"

"Oh, heavens NO, Patrick ... we wouldn't want that at ALL ... perish the thought!" Kim had her back turned to her husband as she dug in the fridge, looking for the steak sauce she knew had the most calories of just about any sauce on the market -- she had already checked. 

What Patrick didn't see was the mischievous smirk on his wife's face; and as she reached for the sauce and the marinated steaks, she wondered where her husband would buy his pants, once he had grown well past the usual sizes stocked by the local men's clothing store. It would surely be a problem ... for him, Robert, and Ted. Their wives would see to that.


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## Observer (Jun 7, 2009)

*Chapter Three*

When the weekend came and the three couples were assembled on Kim and Patrick's deck, drinking iced tea and watching leaves on the nearby trees rustle in the light, late afternoon breeze, the preparations of the ladies became apparent: extensive, almost beyond belief ... at least for a dinner that was to include a mere six people. It was more like a dinner party made for the whole neighborhood. 

The three wives hustled platter after platter of delicious-looking foods from the kitchen out to the deck area. Candied yams, roast hens with an impossibly rich sauce, various potato dished with several gravies, four different types of bread with sweet butter -- and that was just the start of it. Other fattening-looking entrees were there to sample, and the desserts took up an entire table on the very corner of the sun-faded deck.

Even Patrick hadn't yet seen what the women were up to, since all the cooking had taken place in their large kitchen while he was at a morning rescue squad meeting. He was as shocked as the other two husbands when the staggering array of food lay before them, after all the men had assembled, within ten minutes of each other. 

Patrick was the first to speak, after a low whistle: "Hoo, boy ... what's the deal, ladies? Are there a lot more guests on the way that we don't know about? I sure hope so, 'cause we're not going to be able to put a dent in much of this stuff. It does look good, though ... I'll say THAT!"

Robert was even more surprised, to the point of being speechless for almost a minute. "This is incredible! Are you girls going to have to do this often, to prepare for that cooking contest? Because if you are, us fellows are going to have to recruit some help ... or else get pants with very stretchy waistbands." 

The wives managed to shoot each other a smirk/raised eyebrow combination without the men seeing them. The husbands were still gazing down at the mounds of rich food, stunned expressions on their faces. Julie scurried back into the kitchen, returning with an apple cobbler that was still piping-hot from the oven. Ted laughed at the extravagance of it all.

"There's MORE to this feast?!" -- Ted's mouth was hanging open -- "This is the most incredible thing I've ever seen ... well, for three couples, that is. There's going to have to be left-overs, or we're all going to have to use crowbars to wedge ourselves back into the kitchen." 

Patrick winced at this thought, perhaps because he had sometimes used the "Jaws Of Life" to extricate a crash victim from a wrecked auto; the thought of using something like this or a simple crowbar to get back inside, due to extreme fatness, well ... it didn't even seem funny to him. Kim, not knowing this, replied to Ted with a merry chuckle.

"Not us girls, but perhaps you GUYS." Kim held her arms out to mime a greatly fattened husband and the two other wives looked aghast, facing each other. Talk about blowing cover! But it was all seen as joking fun ... none of the women really expected their mates to eat more than their usual amounts for a weekend dinner. However, in that, they were wrong. From the moment the men sat down and started sampling the food, expressions of exquisite delight came over the men's faces. 

Even Patrick seemed unnaturally hungry, although after having a moderately hefty dinner portion, he pushed away his plate, declaring himself done. Robert and Ted continued to try more mashed potatoes and gravy after two full plates of roast hen and candied yams -- the potatoes had a subtle herb flavor that elevated this side dish to a culinary wonder. And then, after cleaning their plates, both men dove into both the apple cobbler and a huge New York-style cheesecake that was Rhonda's favorite recipe. Ted LOVED her cheesecake, and it seemed to all the wives astonishing that he ate several wide slices, even after his incredibly large dinner portions.

Robert seemed determined to match Ted's eating acumen with his own; after three brownies that one of the wives had produced on a small tray, he had a small bowl of ice cream ... then sat back in wonder at what had gotten into him. How had he gotten this hungry? He NEVER ate this much in a single sitting, not even on Thanksgiving. He admitted as much to the group, groaning as he laid down his bowl and spoon, sinking back into his chair. "Gosh, I don't know what's gotten into me -- I feel like pigging out today! This really IS fabulous cooking; you gals have outdone yourselves ... and my waistband is just about done, as well!"

To Kim's disappointment, Patrick barely relented to having one small serving of apple cobbler, but this was still much more than he usually ate, weekend dinner or not. Patrick declared the cobbler to be excellent, but suddenly got up and went inside after struggling to finish the last bite. On the pretense of checking phone messages, he went around the kitchen corner to the phone alcove ... and Kim, using this opportunity to go the bathroom, spotted Patrick struggling to loosen his belt as she breezed by him. 

"Any messages, hon?" -- she chirped breezily as she strode past -- "Glenda told me she was going to call today. Guess not." She was gone in seconds, powder room door shut behind her, but Patrick blushed at the thought of his belt-struggling in front of his wife and he quickly returned to the deck. Just before stepping down to where all could see him, he untucked his polo shirt. Even though he hardly looked any different to the others, he could tell there was a strange fullness around his waist and it unnerved him.

Ted greeted Patrick's return with a joke: "Rhonda has finally admitted she's going to rent me out as a Macy's Day Parade float!" 

He managed a short burst of a laugh as he held the sides of a meager but still apparent tummy bulge, straining through his cotton button-front shirt. Ted assumed -- as would be expected -- that his modest bulge was temporary, hence his lack of reticence to make this joke. But as Rhonda looked closely, albeit in a clandestine and sideways glance, she found herself getting aroused at the sight of ... could it be? ... Ted's shirt buttons straining, one button in particular looking dangerously close to coming open. She knew Ted liked to wear his shirts in more a snug fit; how much longer would he want to do that?

Rhonda's reverie was interrupted by the sniff of Patrick's reply: "Well, I'm not going to become any float, that's for sure ... I can't afford to turn into a big wad, not for my job or for my wardrobe. Thank goodness I work out, that's always kept me slim. You other guys go ahead and blimp out, but not me. I'll try some of your contest-trial goodies, but not much. I've got to keep my youthful figure." 

He rubbed his hands down his sides for emphasis and Kim -- who had just returned from the powder room -- cackled, waving her water glass as she turned and gave a good-natured frown. "Oh, puh-LEEZE, Patrick ... SPARE us the false vanity. We all know you're a secret snacker, probably scarfing down butter cookies when I'm sleeping, washing it down with milkshakes!"

Patrick was aghast at even the teased suggestion. As the "recipe party" wound down, he was surprisingly quiet, sipping on an unsweetened iced tea and watching the antics of Robert and Ted as they joked about full they both felt. 

"Wow, I hope I can fit back into the car," Robert joked, but as he squeezed the sides of his full stomach, the three women were surprised to see a noticeable fullness -- a very slight paunch -- softly riding above his belt. The girls knew it was most likely a temporary fullness, but the thought of his tummy starting to swell over his belt gave Julie a quick hot flash ... and it sure wasn't a pre-menopausal one. Kim caught Julie's flushed cheeks and brushed by her on the way to the kitchen to get another refill on juice.

"You know, I think Robert has great possibilities, my dear," Kim whispered into Julie's ear, "He already looks delightfully plump. Keep it up, girl, and you'll soon be riding the fattest tummy in the neighborhood, maybe the town." 

The low-key and matter-of-fact manner in which she mentioned this only served to cause Julie to blush a bit more. Julie quickly followed her into the kitchen as they men started to stir, getting ready to return home. As her cheeks returned to their normal hue, Julie leaned against Kim's stove and said: "I had the most intense dream last night. I dreamt Robert had the most exquisite belly -- firm and hugely round ... just right for rubbing ..."

"And riding?" Kim broke in, a smirk on her face. 

"Gosh, you are SO bad! Kim, what's gotten into you?!" Julie was shocked, but playfully so ... she knew Kim was someone who occasionally liked to surprise people with a sudden burst of candor, all the more startling when spoken in her mellow tone of voice. 

Kim continued as she poured herself a tall glass of apple juice: "Maybe I'm already a bit jealous because I think Robert may surpass both Patrick and Ted in full-tummied yumminess. Good Lord, Patrick will have a cow if he gains even one ounce. He'll scoot off to the gym and lose it in a flurry of vanity and fat-phobic exercise ... I can see him now!"

Julie -- who was secretly pleased to think that Robert already had "the inside track" -- stared languidly at the ceiling for a moment and reflected dreamily. "Yeah, I can picture Robert already, asking me to let out some pants of his, his round belly swelling magnificently out through his unzippable Dockers ... my-oh-my, that will just be awful, don't ya know. I'll just have to massage that round, firm belly before I go to sleep, maybe even ride it a bit ... or MORE than a bit." 

Her flushed cheeks were gone; Julie was now approaching a state of mind almost rapturous in its randiness, a wanton queen of fat hubby delights. Kim laughed, not sure what to make of this turn -- Julie's sudden turn from embarrassment to lust.

Kim was still chuckling when Rhonda walked into the kitchen, telling the other two gals that Robert and Ted were getting up, ready to collect their wives and head home. Rhonda took this opportunity to make a confession: "Hey, you know ... as Ted stood up, I saw a bit of a roll, a slight bulge around his middle that made me ... well, it made me start to think of wicked, wicked things!" 

The other wives thought this was a riot -- Rhonda was also in on the wantonness of the moment. This may bode well for the future, they were all in agreement about it. Just as they exchanged wicked smiles, the men filed into the hallway by the kitchen and started to give their good-byes. Robert spoke first: "Thanks, girls ... this really was fantastic. I sure wouldn't mind being a recipe guinea pig again, that's for sure. You've gotten a great start."

Standing partially behind Julie, Kim patted her tummy as if to suggest husbandly fattening (and doing so for the benefit of Julie, who was the only one who could see this) and answered: "Oh, you bet ... a great start. I agree, if I do say so myself." 

Julie flashed a playfully stern look at Kim, unnerved by her boldness -- "That's it! ... she thought ... "Just blow our cover!" ... but the men were clueless. 

Even this was not unexpected, given that the usual male bluntnesses were no match for feminine wile. Ted piped in as he came over and took Rhonda's hand. "Well, I guess we'll head on out. Thanks again for some great food ... I look forward to doing this again." 

Rhonda and Julie exchanged a clandestine, secret smile and almost replied in perfect unison: "Oh, we will ... in fact, maybe real soon." 

"Well, great ... that would be fun," Robert said to the group and he started towards the door with Julie. As he strolled towards the front door, Julie noticed his pants slipping down a bit, and there was no doubt: a fullness around his middle was forcing his pants to ride lower, and she started to once again think of randy thoughts. But she fought them so as not to seem overly smirky or odd as she thanked Patrick and Kim for their hospitality, thanked Rhonda and Ted for helping to make it such a nice time. 

Soon, Patrick was quietly helping to clean dishes (secretly worried that he HAD, in fact, put on an ounce or two) as Kim wiped the table on the deck, wondering if Patrick would ever get over his fear of growing even slightly fatter. 

"Blast it, " Kim thought. Patrick is just SO anal about his weight ..." She realized there was no way he would even approach Robert or Ted in the course of this secret contest. But there was nothing to do but make the most tempting goodies and hope for the best.

The next morning -- a beautiful, sunny, and slightly breezy Sunday -- Robert rolled out of bed early, to go down and get the Sunday paper off the front doorstep. Julie sleepily turned over as he was wrapping his robe around himself; she rubbed her eyes with one hand and asked: "What time is it?" -- and Robert replied that it was just after eight in the morning. 

She flopped back on the bed, on her back, groaning herself awake, as her husband shuffled down the stairs in his slippers and robe. He was back in less than a minute, tossing the paper on the bedside table, unwrapping his robe as he prepared to get back into bed. As he let his robe fall to the floor, he was standing in profile next to bed, unaware that Julie was peeking through partially open eyes. What she saw both surprised and delighted her.

That slight bulge at Robert's middle did not appear to be a temporary bloat. It was unmistakable: a definite start to a rounder tummy -- it had a subtle curve above his underwear, the very hint of a budding pot belly. When he looked down, noticing his own stomach, Julie thought -- for a split second -- that he had noticed her peeking at him. She quickly closed her eyes and acted as though she was still not quite awake. Robert chuckled softly, patting his own middle, and called out to Julie -- "Hey, hon ... look what you gals have done to my waistline! I'm getting a pot!"

He slapped and played with the barely noticeable roundness, remarking that he might even have trouble buttoning his pants that morning.

Julie played it cool: "Aw, come on ... a few goodies isn't going to turn you into Santa Claus." But as she watched her husband get dressed, she noticed Robert struggling to button his pants. 

"Man, these ARE tight ... if we had a scale, I'd check my weight." He walked into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror as he barely managed to fasten the button on his now-rather-snug slacks. 

"Honey, I swear I've put on some weight from yesterday's pig-out." Julie couldn't resist; she got up from the bed, adjusted her pajamas, and strolled over to see what Robert was talking about. Sure enough, the pants were rather tight-fitting and his belly had a very small but distinct roll along the waistband.

"Oh, honey ... maybe the pants shrank a bit in the dryer." 

Robert gave a squinting look of disbelief that made Julie break out into laughter. 

"OK, maybe not ..." she conceded, "But you know, maybe you're just getting to the age where a bit of a midriff spread is inevitable. It happens to most folks, eventually." 

Robert threw up his hands in mock disgust and answered: "Oh, GREAT! So now you're telling me I'm getting old AND fat!!" 

He stormed out of the bathroom slapping his belly, going: "Fat! Fat! ... Now I'm FAT, FAT, FAT!" It was so funny, Julie had to laugh again. 

"Come on," she cajoled, "You act as if getting fat were a fate worse than death."

Robert shook his head, disagreeing: "No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I suppose within everyone man there is a part of them that might secretly enjoy growing fat as a married man. No, I'm just surprised as all get-out that I could get so plump in one day ... that now my pants don't even fit properly." 

Julie sensed a real struggle within her husband and suddenly felt guilty about the whole endeavor. But Robert chuckled as he saw the worried look she could not hide, and he gave her a big hug, his bare stomach and chest so warm against her pajama top -- she could feel his warmth even through the thick material. "I don't really mind growing older, and perhaps fatter; I suppose, in a way, it's sort of a right-of-passage as one goes through life. Who knows? Maybe YOU'LL grow fatter with me, and we'll balloon together!"

It was now Julie's turn to squint in disbelief, but then she laughed. "OK, maybe I WILL! I'll become one of those wives that seems to have grown bigger every time there's a family reunion." 

She held out her arms to pantomime herself as a very fat woman, and she waddled around in a circle, lumbering in a demonstrative way to illustrate her point. 

Robert roared at this suggestion, and clapped his hands. "Yes, yes! We'll both get so big that all the cousins will hide some of the potluck dishes, afraid we might finish them off before others get a chance to dig in!" 

He pulled Julie to him one more time, still laughing, sweeping her hair back from her forehead. He looked her in the eyes and was serious for a moment.
"I really would continue to love you if you were that big, it wouldn't change me love for you one bit." 

He felt as though he was giving her some great reassurance, but it was Julie who wanted to reassure her husband. "Honestly, Robert ... if you started to grow fatter, it wouldn't matter to me. Who knows, it might be fun to feel some 'extra you' in my hands when we ... well, when we ..." 

Robert continued for her: "Oh, you mean when we roll in the hay?! They both chuckled softly as Robert took her face in his hands. "That's actually very nice to hear, Julie -- that if I grow fatter as I get older, you'd still think of me as sexy and we'd still be as wicked as ever." 

He gave her a naughty wink, and she got a twinge in her stomach, knowing just how sensual her husband could be. This was a good talk, a necessary one, and Julie was glad they had discussed this issue. Robert nodded towards the stairs and said: "Hey, let's go make some breakfast. It'll be your call, although if it's something very fattening, you'll be obligated to let these pants out if they're even more snug tomorrow."

Over at Rhonda and Ted's house, a similar situation was unfolding. Ted was walking back and forth in the kitchen, wearing only a faded blue bathrobe and his underwear. Rhonda watered houseplants on the breakfast nook window sill and stole a glance at her husband as he remarked about the "food orgy" of the day before -- at least, that's how he chose to describe it.

"That was some of the most scrumptious stuff I've had in a long, long time. Goodness, I made a real PIG out of myself -- I just couldn't stop, it was so delicious. I think I may have paid a price, though ... I hope I can still fit into my clothes." 

Ted put a glass in the sink, looked out the window and looked out across the green back lawn. "Boy, a fella could get FAT eating like that -- munching on all that great food. I can just see myself after quite a number of weekends of that ... waddling into work, squeezing my belly through the door."

Ted demonstrated how this might look by holding his arms and hands as though staggering to support a huge belly. He "waddled" towards Rhonda just as she looked back to her plants (after sneaking a quick look at his subtly softer middle), and he laughed, reaching out to hug her. "So, what would my sweetie think of her "tubby hubby" then? Would you hustle me off to Weight Watchers?"

Rhonda and her husband had never talked in these terms before: Issues of weight gain, having to do with one or both of them. She felt as though she was swimming in uncharted waters. 

"Dear, I don't think I would do that, you know ..." she found herself telling him -- "I'm sure I would think you were every bit as handsome as before your ... uh, higher weight. You know, some men carry it well. Some might even be called sexy as a ... how do they refer to them? ... a 'BHM' ... a 'Big Handsome Man' ..."

Even as she said this, Rhonda felt a bit embarrassed, yet excited. It was as though she was able to let out a tiny bit of her pro-BHM sentiments without being too overt about her feelings. 

To her relief, Ted took it all with a sensible good nature. He nodded, absent-mindedly played with the sides of his somewhat softer waistline -- only the barest of a bulge -- and agreed that her attitude was kind and mature. 

"I mean, why not?" -- he was convinced this was the most compassionate approach -- "People come in all shapes and sizes, right? And many husbands get plumper during marriage ... many wives, too ... yes? So, it's no big deal."

Ted's acceptance of the concept of marital gaining caused Rhonda to become temporarily flushed, and she realized that to hide her pink cheeks she would have to go upstairs and get dressed before Ted noticed. She was turning to leave the kitchen when the phone rang: It was Kim, sounding a bit more excited than usual. She sounded slightly out of breath as she said hello to Rhonda. "What's up, Kim? You sound like you've run up three flights of stairs!"

"Oh, Rhonda ... what a DAY! You won't believe this news ... I really don't know what to do!"

To Be Continued ... '

(*Editor's note:* To Be Continued is what the editor promised, but after nine years it never has been. Like Kim, we don't know what to do. Well, actually we do - just haven't wanted to. We made a public appeal last August adfter posting another Big Chris story (here) but got no response. Anyone knowing the whereabouts of the author is asked to notify our Library Curator (me). Otherwise this magnificent tale goes to the Discard Forum in August.


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## BTB (Jun 7, 2009)

The Big Chris Website is here

www.geocities.com/bellymeister


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## Observer (Jun 7, 2009)

Thanks BTB, but that much we already knew. 

When the site was first visited by our deep cyberspace scouts last summer it appeared to be abandoned and an email to its webmaster went unanswered. SA discussion among various posters, found at the end of this thread, _A Taste for Rubens_, indicated that Big Chris had simply vanished.

A return visit earlier today indicated new activity. The messed up links page had been repaired (actually severely redacted) and copyright dates changed to 2009, but there was no new material as far as I could tell. We have sent a new email and we'll see if there is any response this time. 

What I am looking for is anyone with information about Big Chris and what has happened in the last ten years.


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## billedmeup (Aug 31, 2009)

I remember reading and enjoying this one years ago. I think it should be saved, but just maked as unfinished.


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## Durin (Sep 9, 2009)

Owww

I am sorry it is uncomplete. 

It was a great start.


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