# A Revelation



## fatmac (Aug 9, 2012)

A wonderful mutual fatty tale.

I see that most people put on a bit of weight when they get married. So it was with Jan and I. We were young and in love. We cooked together in the evenings. She was from a midwestern farm family and was used to hearty meals. Meals meant to keep a man working and strong. I had grown up with a single father and learning to cook was a survival tool. Dad had a very active social calendar so I cooked for myself often. Even as a kid I realized that mac and cheese from a box was low rent. Not that I was a food snob by any means, but I taught myself how to really cook so I had some variety.

After work I would come home and we would cook together. Food and cooking became foreplay for us. We would wash the veggies while sharing a small sink. Then it was back and forth as we stirred and sampled and spiced. More than one night dinner was forgotten, the passion of all that bumping into each other in a tiny kitchen, giving way to other appetites. Most nights we would plate our meals and sit together. We talked about our days and dreams while we ate. This led to longer and longer meals. When wine was added the nights got even more relaxed. It was not long before we were changing clothes before we started cooking. In the early years we passed it off as getting comfy. We were both aware we were putting on pounds but neither of us was ready to talk about it.

Jan was a stay at home writer and I was an outside salesman so we both had free time to shop for new clothes, as the need arose, without having to involve one another. I would compliment her on a new dress and she would say she liked my new slacks but we did not talk about why we needed the wardrobe updates. For the first ten years we were married this was our routine. We were successful and happy. We bought a small cottage on a lake in Indiana. I bought a row boat and took Jan for long slow floats as she fed me local cheeses and home made crackers. In the middle of the lake I would take a turn feeding her and plying her with Mead. I had taken to making the honey wine as a hobby, but as I gave a bottle away here and there my reputation grew. 

One afternoon I had been aimlessly surfing the web and found a site dedicated to the making of Mead. Mead was the original fermented drink made by mixing honey and yeast and water. I experimented with adding a bit of fruit and spice and had settled into a routine of making batches in a rotation so we had a plentiful supply. As I said, I had given away a few bottles and now had a viable, albeit underground, side business. Any invitation was an opportunity to bring a bottle or two along. I think the Mead mellowed us as we ate. We never gulped or sped through our meals. They were leisurely meanderings, not hasty jaunts.
Guests to our home always commented on how relaxed we were and how time slowed down at our house.

Jan had been very well received and had an ongoing series of books that gave her time to take up gardening in ernest. Our cottage was surrounded by flowers and shrubbery. It looked like a story book. The pathway to our private dock was lined with wildflowers and an ivy covered picket fence. Over the years our neighbors had gotten older and wanted to move back to town. Since all of their grounds were summer properties, without permanent structures, we had bought a piece at a time and now owned all the lots halfway round the lake. That being said, Jan had unlimited privacy and she had taken to doing her gardening nearly au natural. Just enough cloth to insure her sense of propriety remained intact. So it was that the subject of size and adipose was finally broached. I was home early from a business trip. I had changed into shorts and skipped the shirt. As I walked out onto the deck, with a tall drink in hand, Jan was just rounding the bend, coming up from the lake. All she wore was a gauze sundress. It stuck to her like a second skin, wetted from her labors. I let out a low whistle as she neared. Damn if you are not the prettiest woman.

Pretty fat. Was her response. She stopped just short of the deck and out of reach. The afternoon sun shown behind her and made the sundress that was already shear, see through. I was instantly aroused. My shorts made my situation painfully obvious. I see that my fat does not bother you. She was smiling. This was a critical moment and I did not want to respond to quickly. I took a long pull of my drink and savored it. Well. Maybe one more slow sip. I have not lost any weight myself and you have not complained. It sounded weak but I was on the spot and clearly flustered by the beauty of my very round, nearly naked wife.

Smooth.
I...well...I...shit!
What? She was walking forward slowly. Is my big strong hubby shy? Now she was right in front of me. She peeled her sundress over her head and stood there in all her glory. Her tummy and breasts in a race to see which would stop jiggling first. You like all my fat, dont you? All this soft, squishy, cream, blubber makes you rock hard. Like lightning her hand was on my rigid manhood. She was pushing herself into me and talking about her fat the whole time. Several strokes and suggestions about how she got so fat and I was spilling my seed in my shorts. Now I was really embarrassed. Jan just laughed as I sat down heavily in a deck chair. I need a drink. she said and headed into the kitchen for a refreshment. I sat there amazed at what had just happened. I was almost waiting for the alarm to go off so I would wake up. If your going to write erotic fantasy about fat couples and weight gain and food, you might want to get a screen saver. Jan said as she lowered herself into a chair across from me. She had gotten a drink and a pair of panties but was still topless.

Sorry. Another weak answer but I was still reeling from the last few minutes.
For what? For having desires and fantasies? I am just thrilled they arent revolving around some 20 year old, skinny, cheerleader. As far as fetishes go this seems rather mild.
Fetish?
Honey, you have hundreds of saved stories and bookmarks, all centered on fat.
You searched my computer?
I sat down and your screen came on when the mouse jumped. Your story was up and I read it. I got curious so I went looking around. I will tell you I sent Substansia Jones an e-mail and would love to be a Adipositivity girl. I read a bunch of the stories and have chatted with several folks on Fantasy Feeder and some of the Dimensions pay site ladies.
And?
And. I find all of this very erotic. Just knowing that you find all of my fat to be so arousing is a relief. I have always wondered how you felt about me getting fatter. We have always had so much fun cooking and you never seemed to mind but I still worried once in a while.
I have not lost any weight myself.
True enough. She had slid closer and was gently rubbing my tummy. But men gain weight when they get married, it makes them look happy and taken.
But I am fat. Not married and plump. Fat.
Does that bother you? From reading your stories I rather assumed you were happy to be rotund.
I wanted to say something but all I could do was stammer and blush.

When I had drained a couple more glasses of Mead my voice returned. I admitted, for the first time out loud, that I did love fat. I told Jan how watching her get fatter and fatter had kept me in plenty of fantasy writing material over the years. We talked the evening away about how sexy I found her and why. She was very encouraging and understanding. This was like coming out only less acceptable. She listened and added a laugh or a smile here and there. I assume she let me prattle on until she thought I was well lubricated and giddy. I admit I was very buzzed when she brought up the Elephant in the room.

So we have well explored your love for my adipose. What about yours?
Mine? I tried to maintain my composure but I was too tipsy.
Yes yours. If my research is correct you, I assume you must be over 300 pounds. That would be a 140 pound gain, at least. Since you have been so revealing about your lust for my fat, I thought now might be a good time to talk about your own portly desires.
I am a bit tipsy Dear.
The better to free your inhibitions.
The better to make a fool of myself.
I have been sitting here for couple hours, nearly naked, listening to you gush about how you are enthralled by my blubber. I have read your stories about your own obesity driven lusts, and now your worried about embarrassment? I kept drinking as she kept talking. I think I deserve to hear it all and I know you have desires about your own adipose, so fess up! She was looking directly into my eyes and, even drunk I knew I was busted.
Okay, I do enjoy being chubby.
Honey you sailed past chubby 80 pounds ago. Maybe 100 pounds ago
Are you going to listen? She held her finger to her lip and zipped as I went on.
Okay I am fat, and getting fatter, and it excites me and scares me. I am driven by this primal urge that I am helpless to resist. I have tried to diet and work out but I always end up binging and feeling so ashamed. 

The flood gates had opened and my alcohol fueled revelations poured out like water through a the Hoover Dam. Tears welled up in my eyes as I confessed to buffet lunches and sneaking food all day as I made sales calls. We went into my study and I showed her my secret files, filled with pictures of hugely obese men. Photo after photo of sagging paunches and droopy, fat, man boobs. Manhood never exposed because it was swallowed by rolls and rolls of fat. I went on about feeling my clothes getting tighter and tighter as I ate my way through the high 30 waisted range. I showed her cell phone pics of me buying my first 40 slacks. Each photo set showed the next size and the roll that was over the waist band of the last size before I upgraded. I paused as I looked for the file that contained the first photos of the first 50s. I had to start going to the Big and Tall once I left the 40s. This added to the sexual tension because the sales staff is all female and it is a small shop so they knew how often I was upsizing. They all tease me and envy you. They are open fatty lovers. You have to know I NEVER strayed!

Jan hugged me and told me she knew I was faithful. She also admitted that she had met the women at the store when she first found out about my secret. She said she had known for months but had never found a way to bring it up until tonight. I only had a few pictures left and we looked through them. The last shot was of my and in a pair of 54 jeans. So there you have it. I have no idea what to say now.
Do you want to be this fat?
Yes.
Do you want to be fatter?

This was too much. I grabbed the bottle of wine and walked back out onto the deck. I found my seat and eased back into it. Jan was behind me and slid her hands down and cupped my fat breasts while her belly brushed my shoulders. She flicked my nipples absently and said, Well. Come on now. No more secrets. I love you and want you to be happy so tell me the truth. Do you want to be fatter?
YES!...YES!...I want to be fatter and to eat and binge and have you talk about how fat I am and tease me lovingly about being such a piggy. There! There is the truth. I was shaken and spent and exhausted but it was finally all out in the open. I waited for her to be repulsed or laugh at me but instead she came around in front of me and kneeled down at my feet. 
Relax Baby, I love you and am glad we will be able to share this. I have gotten fat with you and always worried you might wake up one day and decide I was ugly. Now that I know all this, I have a couple confessions of my own. For tonight, come to bed and let me love my chubby hubby.

We made love like it was the first time. No longer inhibited about my desire for her fat, I was free to concentrate on her arousal including her fat not in spite of it. I have to acknowledge that she had hidden desires of her own because she was an awakened minx. She licked and fondled and sucked my fat like fine chocolates. Each nibble a new, unknown delight. We finally fell asleep as the dawn rained in on our bed. We had ignited a new passion and longed to stay in the warm glow of it as long as we could sustain ourselves, but in the end exhaustion won out and we drifted into sated slumber. I dreamed in technicolor reality about Willy Wonka and our new home on the green lawns of Gumdrop Lane. Oompa Loompas rolled us to and fro. We were the game pieces in some sort of lawn game for them. I woke, slowly, late in the afternoon to find Jan gone from our bed. I smelled coffee and followed it. I had not even stopped to grab my robe. A quick pit stop in the bath and I was walking into the kitchen, naked as a newborn. Jan had found a silky housedress and was filling my cup. I should get my robe. No need, you look kinda cute and soft and fury.

So when do I hear your confessions?
I had hoped you were too far gone to remember that.
Oh no Missy! You got me hammered and loose lipped, but now it is your turn.
Okay...after breakfast.

Another bullet dodged. I had never seen such a breakfast outside of a buffet line. The food was wonderful and plentiful and I ate. I ate and ate and then had just a bit more. Now that I had no more secrets I felt free to gorge myself. Jan kept encouraging me and offering more and more. She even gave my tummy a gentle rub between plates. I did my best but finally I stopped. Enough. Enough, really? I should say so, you have eaten through everything we had. I suppose after last night you figure your free to get even fatter?
I thought...
Yes Dear, we are gonna get you fatter. Go sit in your chair. I put a towel in it so you can be comfy. Later we can get you dressed. I made it to my chair and groaned as I settled in. I was in a stupor as Jan began to tell me her secrets.

She had found out about my secret several months earlier and had been doing research on the subject. Just the way she researched her books. All sorts of facts and figures and diagrams. She paced back and forth as she explained her evolution after finding out my hidden desires. At first she had been shocked, but as she read and studied and chatted she began to get aroused. She found herself looking at fat men and imagining them fatter. She took to reading labels and calculating growth rates. Finally she explained her plans.

She had found a BMI calculator and figured since she was 54 and 350 pounds, her BMI was 60. As I was 511 I would need to weigh 432 pounds for us to be equal. I like the idea of equality so that will be our first goal. Once we get you that fat we will decide if your fat enough. Since you are already well on your way, I thought we would target 2 or 3 pounds a week as a good rate. That will allow us to reach equality within a year, give or take. Factoring a variable for any weight I may add as a byproduct of growing you a year and a half, tops. She stopped and looked at me as though I should respond.
You figured all this out? You sound like the decision is made and I am going to become obese.
You are already obese.
Okay, then obeser.
More obese.
That.
Yes, you are going to become more obese. Much more obese. We will need to journal extensively so I will be able to turn this into a series of pamphlets for feeders and encouragers. I will write a how to manual for turning your lover into a blimp, or a bigger blimp. She handed me a drawing. This is the working artwork. It showed a dirigible with a head and hands and feet. The blimp was tethered, the same as a parade balloon. The face on the blimp was mine. Funny. She just smiled and handed me a candy bar.

You really weigh 350 pounds? I would never have guessed.
I have a present for you. She handed me a package in plain brown paper.
What is this? I asked.
The future.
I unwrapped the gift and found a pair of 72 waisted Dickies.
If my math is correct you have gone from 170ish to 310ish and from 34 to 54 pants. If you continue to get fatter in the same places then these pants should fit you in the 430 range.
I held them up and was amazed at how huge they looked. Given that my present 54s looked awfully big on their own, these looked like circus fat man pants. I could not wait until they started to get snug. I was as excited as a kid at Christmas. You really think I can get that fat? Fat enough for these pants?
I do not think you can. I know you will! She was grinning ear to ear. It is about time for you to be the humongous fatty you are destined to be. I also bought you a cane. Your going to need some support.
She was patting my paunch when she added, This is as big as Dickies goes, after this I we may have to get creative.


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## fat hiker (Aug 10, 2012)

This is a great story - or is it the start of a series?


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## BriarChubNJ (Aug 15, 2012)

Wonderful...thank you for creating this


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## imfree (Aug 15, 2012)

What a great story! This is the stuff dreams are made of. I have arrived and, at nearly 450, have yet to meet my mate for my dreams to come true!:smitten:


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## fatmac (Oct 31, 2012)

Our freedom.
Over the next several weeks we settled into a routine of eating whenever we were together. I chided the wife that if she kept eating as much as me our equality would never be reached. true she said, but the fatter I am the fatter you will end up. So we both ate and grew. Once we started to openly enjoy each others blubber we became rather playful and often teased one another. The other thing that happened soon after our revelations was that we became softer and more loving with one another. We accepted that we were fatties and that things were going to take a bit longer and accommodations would be needed as we expanded.

We took to cooking together as we had when we were first married. I picked up a pasta machine at the kitchen shop. A bit of oil, a cup of flour and an egg. A mix of all purpose and semolina. The semolina gave a nice texture and allowed for the dough to bind together. The first few batches I struggled with being too dry in my mixture, but with regular practice, I was soon producing a wonderful pasta dough. I became very capable at rolling and folding and rolling again until the pasta was silky and light. A quick pass through the cutter and we had lovely fresh pasta. A splash of cream and some fresh herb with just a bit of Vodka and a cup or so of fresh Parmesan, yielded an amazing sauce for our hand fashioned noodles. Glasses of, room warmed, Mead clanked lazily over flickering candles as we sat and ate. Fresh crusty bread was used to greedily sop every last drop of sauce from our plates and each glass was fully drained of its nectar, until sated, we sat back and surveyed our gluttonous carnage. Many evenings we were forced, by inflated tummies, to rest in the front room before dishes were done or desert was contemplated.

Other nights we would bake fresh biscuits and smother them with heavy, cream based, sausage gravy. Fried eggs with burst yolks added amazing bright color to the light brown gravy and a rich layer of flavor. We made plenty of extra biscuits and filled them with honey or homemade jams and jellies. The beverage of choice, on our breakfast dinners was chocolate milk. We had experimented with batch after batch until we had come upon a recipe that is worthy of being locked and sealed in a vault. 

I share it here only out of my comfort in the knowledge that any reader is well fed, or a lover of the well fed. A half gallon of heavy whipping cream was gently added to a half gallon of whole milk. A full pound of milk chocolate and a quarter pound of bittersweet chocolate were slowly melted in a double broiler. Once it was liquid, a can of Hershey powdered cocoa is stirred in. Once all of this is well blended it is stirred into the milk and cream a bit at a time so it does not bind up. I think we need to learn about tempering so we will be better able to mix this all together. The end of this meal is the same as the pasta feasts. Jan and I sit on the couch together until the bloating fades and the blissful fullness becomes a memory.

Meal after meal was practiced. Notes were made. Ingredients tried and saved or discarded for some other recipe. Jan being a writer and me being a salesman we shared a love of exacting note keeping and fact gathering. My laptop was always open as we cooked, I would make corrections and footnotes as we tasted and sampled. So it was that our growth was not a single note of fat accumulation, but rather a symphony of raptured over indulgence.

Clothes shopping had been a private matter before our confessions. Now it was a shared activity that we thoroughly enjoyed. With me nearing the 400 pound mark and Jan only mildly behind me, just going out was an adventure. Unlike many super obese couples, we were not shy at all. we were so happy in our fatness that we smiled and laughed, even when we needed to stop for a breath or ask for an accommodation. This attitude aided us in finding happy people and overlooking the occasional snarky remark about our needs. 
So it was that we found ourselves at the mall on a recent Saturday afternoon. Jan was near bursting her latest, and biggest yoga pants. Her every ripple and roll encased like the sausages we were so fond of making. I was lagging behind her, just to watch her waddle. Not that I was any faster. I was slow of my own voluminous size, but following Jan was an amazing sight. Her T-shirt was made short by her enormous tummy and those beautiful blubbery arms. Her breasts were also very well padded, but the were dwarfed by the sag and sway of her mesmerizing tummy. 

So I was happy to follow her, enjoying the eye candy of her behind completely in view, without a shirt draped over it. As much as she needed new clothes we were there for me. Jan made a right turn into the Big and Tall. I was a few steps behind and paying attention to the snack sack she had given me. Hey chubby, in here. I heard her quip as I noshed by the front of the store.

Sorry, I was watching some fat chick waddle.
I bet you were. She rolled her eyes before adding, These should be the last pants we buy you before you wear the 72s. You were concerned about filling them if I remember.
Unfounded fears, I now know. I was trying to run my hands inside the waist ban of the 68s I was wearing but they were digging into my soft flesh and had no room left. 

The saleslady smiled when she saw us. She was a bit younger than we were and only a middle weight chubby, but she was bigger each time we rolled in. Time for more room? she inquired. She was looking at my muffin top and the way the seams were straining in the thighs. Maybe you should just wear sweats so they have some give to them. We had thought about that but I wanted to stay in Dickies until the 72 waist gave out. Dickies have no give in the fabric and they really add to the feeling of being obese because my fat is constantly pushing into them with no stretch. It may sound silly to like feeling fat when I am over 400 pounds, but I love it. 

Thank you, but I like the fit of these, so a pair in a 70 waist please. I noticed more than one head turn when the number rang out. I was, by far, the fattest customer in the store. I had the next man by at least 50 pounds maybe 75. The other thing setting me apart was attitude. I was reveling in a belt 6 feet long, they were mumbling about needing a 52 pant. Jan added that we would like them in tan and would need a couple 6x polos as well. She turned to the lady next to her and said, Have to leave a bit of room for growth.

GROWTH?, she gasped.
Of course, you should see this boy eat. Like a machine he is.
She looked Jan head to toe and said, You look like you hold your own. She was being catty.
Jan smiled her brightest smile and patted her paunch, as low as she could reach. I try, but he makes me work for it.

Jan, I need to sit down for a minute...and a snack. I could only stand for so long and I was fading. Jan dismissed the angry woman as she reached in her bag for some candy bars and told me I could go sit on a bench out front while she collected our packages. Sitting in a crowded mall on Saturday afternoon, being hugely fat, in clothes to tight, while eating candy bars, as skinny bitter people walked by was strangely erotic and made me want to show off a bit. I stretched so my shirt rode up and exposed several inches of soft white blubber. I held the empty wrappers, one between each finger so it was obvious how many I had taken in and filled my mouth with a whole bar at a time so my cheeks were packed.

Come on Fatso. Jan was in front of me with the bag of clothes.
Fatso?
You prefer Tubby or Porky?
Fatso is fine I suppose. I replied as I struggled to stand up and Jan pulled my shirt down.
Show off.
Me? I blushed, as we waddled off to the car. Jan had found a plateau, she had gained, maybe, 15 pounds since we went public with our lard lust. She was fat but I was beginning to look fatter even though I was taller. I was also having mobility issues that she was somehow avoiding. She would stop and wait for me as soon as she noticed me lagging.

Long walk?
Sorry, I am getting slower.
No worries, maybe it is time for you to use a scooter.
I knew that was coming. Am I really so fat I need one of those. People who need them are really fat.
You are really fat, Honey and getting even fatter. She was being gentle, but honest. After lunch we can stop at the dealer, before going home.

Lunch was Golden Corral. Since I was tired out, Jan brought me plates. We talked about my decreased stamina and how I was going to have to accept some things or lose some weight. The idea of me losing weight did not appeal to either of us. We agreed that my growth was important to us and that we would make whatever adjustments were needed. I had become so distraught at the thought of dieting that my tummy had gotten upset. Jan let me rest a few minutes before putting another plate in front of me. Eat up, I can not have you wasting away. With the horror of fat lose behind me I dug in with renewed vigor. Even the waitress commented on my appetite. I guess someone is storing up for winter. she mused to Jan.

After I was filled past comfort, Jan drove us to the mobility center. The salesman pointed out each feature and all the available options. We looked at seats and seat coverings. Arm rests or no armrests. Extra motor amperage for added travel distance and weight carrying capacity. Battery size and what type of vehicle we would need to transport the scooter. I even took a couple test laps in the sturdiest one they had. It was a tremendous amount of information and I was needing a nap. All I could think about was resting my knees and maybe just a hint of ice cream. we stopped at DQ on the way home for a extra large Blizzard with triple candy and a bag of Dilly bars for later. Just to be a tease, Jan pulled into the McDonalds next door and made me waddle in and order an obscene amount of food and only one drink so it was obvious it was all for me. When I made it back to the car I was fully spent and panting. Scooter time to be sure, Fatso


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## fatmac (Oct 31, 2012)

There are some wonderful writers here...any feed back is appreciated.
Thanks
Mac


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## fritzi (Nov 2, 2012)

No wonderful writer here .... just any old feedback from someone who as a language teacher does a lot of essay correcting....

First of all - ask the mods to re-format your story .... just the layout makes it difficult to read.

You do a - very rare - convincing job in making the development and discovery of the mutual gaining desires credible and natural.

Imo your story also shows the limits there are to pure weight gain stories: Just letting your protagonists gain and gain doesn't offer that much of a fascinating, longer story. If that's your focus, it would need more descriptions of the physical changes, how fat and weight feel as well as the corresponding mental and emotional aspects. 

Also - immobility doesn't appeal to all F/FA's as a perspective.


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## HPab (Nov 2, 2012)

fatmac said:


> There are some wonderful writers here...any feed back is appreciated.
> Thanks
> Mac



I disagree with a few of the points of the other person that just posted. I think the pacing of this story is great, despite the massive weight gain, and I think there are lots of places you can go with it. I also think that the humiliation and impending mobility issues are completely appropriate and add a lot to this story (myself, I love their inclusion).

I've been lurking in this community for a long time and read a huge number of stories on here, and this is one of my favorites. It's pretty rare to find a mutual gaining story this good. I hope you continue!


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## fat hiker (Nov 4, 2012)

Great! This is a series! And a nicely written one at that!


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## Lardibutts (Nov 8, 2012)

HPab said:


> I disagree with a few of the points of the other person that just posted. I think the pacing of this story is great, despite the massive weight gain, and I think there are lots of places you can go with it. I also think that the humiliation and impending mobility issues are completely appropriate and add a lot to this story (myself, I love their inclusion)..... this is one of my favorites. It's pretty rare to find a mutual gaining story this good. I hope you continue!



I go right along with these comments - plus I really enjoyed the details of the lakeside setting and the food preparation - especially the pasta making!
I don't actually need a whole lot of fast moving plot, I just enjoy the well written long drawn out inevitability of a good weight gain saga. Thats why I keep dropping back in at this site

L


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## azerty (Nov 11, 2012)

Thank you. I live mutual gain. Eventough I don't understand it all, because my English is not the best. The same in French ? Lol


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## fatmac (Aug 19, 2013)

I took almost a year to go from my 70" waisted Dickies into the 72" ones Jan had bought for me when we first began "catching me up." My physical limitations had made me slow my eating some. To be fair, a 30 pound gain in a ten month period was sizable for nearly anyone, but for me it was a slowed pace.

I had spent the time trying to get a bit more physically active. I was walking a half mile twice daily and had started a yoga program, designed for the obese. The stretching was very helpful and the walking was relaxing but at 430 pounds I was easily winded and needed to sit often. My job had also ended. My size made sales calls difficult and I did not fit into the youthful, healthy, model the company desired. To avoid any unpleasantness, my employer had given a generous severance and wished me well.

Jan's book deal left plenty of room for an assistant and that facilitated my being home and fed all day, everyday. I spent my time doing research for her books and noshing away on my expanding repertoire of baked goodies. 

So it was that I had reached a BMI of 60. I had reached my wires BMI and the equality she wanted. I walked into her office to make my announcement. "I am officially at a BMI of 60, just as my lady asked and well filling these 72" Dickies." I heralded my gluttonous accomplishment like royalty. Jan laughed and clapped. She waddled over and gave me a tummy shake.

"Well done, fatso. Just one little note. All this feeding you has caused me to gain a bit and my BMI is now 69 with a weight of 400. That means you need to be 495 to be my equal."

"Jan...really?"

"Well I suppose I could loose some weight."

"NO! I will get to work."

"You are such a devoted husband. Willing to endure more gluttony and become an even bigger fat blob, just to make me happy." She was mocking me. "By the way, I think you need to change to sweats or at least elastic waists and the Scooter Store called. I think it is time."

"Why do I need a scooter and you do not?"

"Because I can walk and have stayed far more active than you. You are unable to do much past your daily strolls and event hose have become erratic. Never mind how you convince yourself they are twice daily and the mailbox is damn sure not a half mile."

"That is my journal!"

"I told you to get a screen saver."

"The mailbox is a long ways away."

"You are a very very fat, lazy, lump."

I was noshing again and pouting about the scooter. It was humiliating to admit that my fat fetish had so engulfed me that I need mobility aids. I was crimson when Jan asked the Walgreens clerk for the toilet paper wand to allow me to wipe my bum. I was mortified when she asked the wife of a huge fat man where she bought his lawn chairs. Now she was pushing the scooter idea again.

Just a short update, more to follow


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## seppo676767 (Aug 21, 2013)

I have been reading stories here for a long time, but now I had to send comment for a first time. This story is so awesome, hopefully there are many more parts coming. Can't wait he gets even more out of shape and you describe their daily life and how Jan teases her husband lovingly. Keep up the excellent work!


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## GordoNegro (Aug 21, 2013)

Great read as I look forward to more.
Hoping the wife can 'accidentally' gain more later on too.


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## fat hiker (Aug 21, 2013)

This has become a series! Great writing.


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## fatmac (Aug 22, 2013)

Since I had become an employee of sorts, to Jan, our roles had shifted slightly. My dominant male role had softened and her docile female posture had ended. She assigned me the task of finding the scooter best suited to enabling me to be mobile. She gave me a deadline and parameters for my search as well as a few suggestions for functionality and future load bearing capability.

I brought my research and findings to her study:
Teknique HD6
Teknique® HD6 powered wheelchairs are bariatric wheelchairs designed with a 600-pound weight capacity,* a wider seat for comfort, 70amp motors and tandem rear tires for increased traction.
Hoveround's optional recline seat upgrade offers a higher seat back and adjustable recline providing additional comfort and support.. ($499 - Not Medicare Reimbursed)
When paying by credit card, you have the option of choosing FREE standard shipping or our White Glove Delivery for an additional fee during the check out process.

She was reading carefully, when she erupted in a fit of laughter. Her face reddened and her whole body shook as she settled into an extended giggle. Hoveround! Hoveround, as if someone as hugely obese as you could hover at all. That is some funny irony there.

I almost choked on my candy bar, thats not nice.

Oh honey, I am not being mean. I just found it humorous that we are buying you a chair because you are getting too fat to walk and it is called a Hoveround. She tried to smooth my ruffled feathers.

It holds up to 600 pounds, I thought that would be more than ample.

It will do for now. I am really struggling with picturing you that much fatter. On the other hand, given your addictive gluttony, I can hardly picture you not being well over 600 pounds. Given enough time and your health holding out I have no doubt that you will continue to pork up.

I seriously doubt I will ever be over 600 pounds! She was being a tease and a bit snarky.

 Really? You stand here eating the third candy bar since you came in. You are wearing 72 waisted pants and they are under your gut. Your t shirt looks like a tube top. You have bigger tits than I do, and a droopier tummy. All of that and you doubt you will ever be over 600 pounds. I doubt there is any doubt that you will exceed 600 pounds like you have exceeded every other unimaginable benchmark of tubbiness.

I had opened candy bar number 4 while she was ranting and was sitting down when the seat of those 72 waisted pants let go with a thunderous ripppppppp. I finished sitting and ate the candy while Jan went into complete hysterical waves of laughter.

If you have never owned Dickies workwear you may miss the significance of splitting their seams. These are triple stitched, industrial strength seams, meant to outlast the trousers. I have seen people wearing theses pants until the cloths was paper thin and never have I seen a split seam. Include in this tale, that I was wearing the largest pair they make and my humiliation was complete and total. At least that is what I thought before the chair gave way and I landed on the floor.

Jan was 400 pounds and still had cat like reflexes. Before I stopped jiggling, she had produced a camera and was shooting frames as fast as the processor would allow. Still think the scooter is a foolish idea, Fatso? She taunted. Maybe your right, maybe a crane would be more practical. I was trying to roll onto my tummy with no luck. Hold on piggy, let me move some of the splintered wood so you can roll over. Jan put down the camera and moved the broken chair pieces out of my roll over area.

With effort and a few tries, I was able to roll onto my belly and push myself up onto all fours before I had to stop and get my breath. I felt a strange sensation on the carpet and looked down. My belly and my nipples were touching the carpet. I was so grossly, morbidly, completely obese that I had tits fat and saggy enough to touch the floor. I heard the camera buzzing and clicking and Jan saying, Oh my! She puts the camera down and slid here hand between my thighs.

She was whispering in my ear what a wonderful fat pig I was as she rubbed my fuba. Even fully erect my manhood only protruded from my fat pubic mound 2 inches. It only took a few moments of her loving, hot, humiliation laced breath filling my ears and I was filling her hand with my seed. As soon as I stopped convulsing she rolled onto her back, spread her cellulite dimpled thighs and announced, My turn. After my creamy fish taco lunch we laid together on the floor and took a nap.

When we woke and managed to get off the floor, we sat at the kitchen table and talked. I am ordering your chair today, as well as a van with a ramp so you can stay in the chair and drive. You have been so supportive of my dreams and ambitions that I want to be equally supportive of yours. I really do adore you so massively fat and deliriously happy. You keep stuffing that fat face and I will make the orders. I opened another bag of Oreos and smiled. I had the best wife in the world. I also began researching chairs for the over 600 pound crowd.

Before you run off, could you get me another quart of heavy cream, please? These Oreos go stale if they sit open long.


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## seppo676767 (Sep 1, 2013)

Thanks for the latest chapters. I have read them twice actually now.  Do we have hope seeing even more soon?


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## fat hiker (Jun 22, 2015)

seppo676767 said:


> Thanks for the latest chapters. I have read them twice actually now.  Do we have hope seeing even more soon?




I know it's been a while, but I do so hope there's another chapter in the works!


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