# You're Going on a Diet!



## Fiji (Aug 31, 2015)

*Unexplained Gain*

As I stepped off the fancy digital scale my wife had bought a few months ago, I winced at the flashing number that was seemingly taunting me about how much fatter I had become in such a short time. The scale was so fancy that I half expected it to display a message like, "lose some weight Lardo!" Instead, it stopped flashing my weight, 2-8-8 point 7, and started flashing my BMI, 42.0. "Jeez" I mutter under my breath, that officially puts me in the Morbidly Obese" BMI category which kicks in a BMI of 40 or above. And my mind starts pondering how much more I'd need to weigh to break the "Super Obese" BMI mark of 50 ...

The odd thing about it that I'm at a total loss to explain my weight gain of a little over 40 pounds in just eight months. Back around Christmas I had reached a ten-year low of 248 pounds and even though that was the result of a nasty bout of the flu, my weight before that was still less than 260. It only took me a couple of weeks to get back to my pre-flu weight, but then I held pretty constant until around April or so, when I crept back to 265. By May it was more like 270 and by July it was more like 280. Now, it's the end of August and I'm a few donuts shy of 290! 

I don't think I'm eating that much and, in fact, have been really good the last few months about avoiding donuts and pastries and other things like that I know will make me fat, or rather fatter. Sure, I may be drinking more Cokes than I should, sneaking one during the day at work (sometimes two), one for the drive home, and one (OK sometimes two) once I get home. And I limit myself to two bowls of cereal in the morning, supplementing them some days with a McDonald's sausage and egg biscuit (or two when they run a special). Lunch is always pretty light, although I "top off" mid-afternoon with a snack from my company's snack drawer (usually a bag of chips or a Twinkee or a bag of Famous Amos cookies), then sometimes another snack around 6 when I usually leave for home. And I rarely finish all my dinner. In fact when my wife asks "didn't you like it?," I truthfully have to respond "there was just too much to finish." Granted, my wife had gotten into the habit the last few months of always having desert available after dinner -- a pie or cake or cookies or ice cream or a combination thereof -- but I have been exercising great restraint around them, usually limiting myself to one slice and/or one scoop, and occasionally sneaking another before bedtime. But certainly not enough to put on 40 pounds ...

It's so bad that none of the dress slacks I wear to work fit anymore! They are all 46" waist models, which I had let out to become 48's. When I was under 260, they were really loose and I had to tighten my belt considerably to keep them from falling off my waist. When I hit 265 they fit more or less perfectly. But once I crossed 270 they started getting tighter and tighter. About a week ago when my wife was out and about on a Sunday afternoon, I snuck into her sewing supplies and located her tape measure and wrapped it around the crease between my protruding upper belly and my now seriously sagging lower belly and was amazed to see that I measured 51.5 inches around! Amazed that I could be that big around, I re-measured three more times, but each time the answer was the same. No wonder the 46/48's didn't fit anymore ...

And now, even my 2X underwear and sports shirts, which had fit well even as my waist expanded, are beginning to get a little more snug now that I'm approaching the 290 mark. "Christ, I need a whole new wardrobe," I mutter to myself again, as I check myself out in the wife's full-length mirror, grabbing big handfuls of belly fat and cupping my now considerable moobs. I had to admit, it was kind of a turn-on seeing how much fatter I was at 288 pounds than I was at even 260, and I could feel an erection coming on, even though my belly apron now pretty much obscured everything downstairs. That's when it all hit me ... my weight gain started about the same time that my wife had bought the fancy new digital scale, a couple of weeks before Christmas. And that's about the same time she started having desert available every night after dinner ...

I'm convinced I'm on to something, but my prurient interests get the better of me and, as I hold my apron up with one hand, I use the other to reach underneath to find quite an intense boner protruding from my fat pad. Since my wife is away for a few hours, shopping with some girlfriends, I decide to take matters into my own hands, and soon all thoughts of a weight gain conspiracy on her part are banished from my mind. "Must be a coincidence," I conclude.


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## Fiji (Aug 31, 2015)

*Shopping for Big Man Clothes*

After taking matters into my own hands, I lie in bed thinking about how I should deal with my newfound morbid obesity. I have pretty much always been "obese" but not that many years ago the thought of officially being "morbidly" so would have crushed my psyche. But now that I'm officially here, maybe it's not so bad. And, frankly, the idea of going all the way to "super-obese" doesn't necessarily freak me out either. And that gives me an idea ... I pull out my trusty iPad and Google "BMI calculator" and start plugging in some hypotheticals to determine what weight I'd need to be to reach "super" status. After a few tries, I determine that for my height of 5-9 and a half, a weight of 344 pounds would take me into the promised land for fatties. Then a little quick math in my head ... wow, only a shade over 55 pounds to go. At the rate I had been gaining since Christmas, I'd probably be there in a year, maybe less. Now that's really something to think about ...

As I lay there pondering my next move, I decide to shower and make my first-ever visit to a DXL store. After all, now that I'm morbidly obese, I can't shop anymore at Nordstrom (actually they don't have much that will fit me anymore, since their slacks top out at a 46 waist and they don't carry 3X's!) or any of the fancy men's stores I've always liked. It's a shame because I've always been a bit of a clothes horse, wearing good quality stuff, and I just wasn't sure DXL or any other Big & Fat clothing chain would have the type of stuff I like. But I figured I would find out soon enough ...

After cleaning up I check the trusty iPad again and find a DXL about ten miles away and head out the door, but not before finishing off the last of the muffins that the wife had made before she headed out that morning. She had eaten two herself, which meant that I'd polished off ten on my own. "Oh well," I rationalized, "I'm going out to buy bigger clothes anyway." As I prepare to walk out the door, it occurs to me that my 48" shorts (a pair I bought by mistake a couple of years ago and which were way too loose just a few months ago) were snug enough that I didn't need a belt to hold 'em up and be digging into my belly rolls. So I take the belt off and sling it over a kitchen chair, then pull my shirt tail out to cover my apron roll that is accentuated all the more by my now-tight shorts.

On the way to DXL, I spot the Golden Arches and decide that a little protein might be good to go along with the ten muffins I'd demolished that morning. So I pull in and order a sausage and egg biscuit, but to be extra-healthy, I have them substitute the normal egg for an egg white. And keeping with the healthy theme, I order a coffee instead of a Coke. I pull into a parking space to savor my mid-morning "snack" and I start thinking how delicious another biscuit would be ... then drive back through, only this time getting a value meal with the hashbrowns and a big Hi-C orange soda. Nothing like a Hi-C orange soda I thought as I washed my third breakfast down ... but then I think, maybe I really am overeating and maybe that's why I've gained 40 pounds in relatively short order. Then I take my last bite of biscuit and polish off the hashbrowns and I relegate such thoughts to the back of my brain ... where they belong!

A few moments later I'm in front of the DXL store, belly contentedly full and ready to explore the brave new world of clothing for the morbidly obese man. I walk in and spot a couple of guys who are even fatter than me, one surely over 300 pounds and the other probably pushing 350, maybe more. I felt comfortable right away, if not superior, for even though I had gained 40 pounds in no time, I was still so much skinnier than those blimps! The heavier of the two was flying solo, but the other one was accompanied by a wife or girlfriend, who seemed to be fussing over his protruding belly and praising him for how good he looked in the clothes he was trying on. She was cute, a bit on the pudgy side herself, but with an infectious laugh, and I thought to myself what a lucky guy he was, because I wasn't so sure that my wife would be as supportive if I was that fat.

As I wander through the racks and tables, not seeing that much I really like, I almost bump into the happy couple. I say "excuse me," and she flashes a thousand watt smile and says, "no problem, you look a bit lost ... are you a DXL virgin?" I laugh and say "what gave me away?"

"Well," she says, "one, you seem to be wandering aimlessly, and two, your clothes look a little tight, which means you probably are just getting into 3X territory." "You nailed it," I respond. She pats her hubby's / boyfriend's ample belly and says "you're in good company, Tubby here just reached 285 and needs to replace all his 2X's with 3X's." Tubby then chimes in "looks like your wife is a great cook just like mine" while pointing at my belly. That almost floors me ... this blimp whom I figured must weigh over 300 pounds and he actually weighs a little less than me! "Jeez," I think to myself, "do I look as fat in other people's eyes as he does to me?" Finally I respond "yeah something like that ... thank God for wives or we'd all starve."

Moving on, I finally see something that is my style -- the big man's underwear! I quickly snatch up three packages of 3X boxer briefs in black and head toward the register, then on home where I will search the internet for something that will fit me and is actually stylish.


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## Fiji (Aug 31, 2015)

*Caught in the Act*

It's Wednesday night and the 11 o'clock news has just started. My wife, Nora is her name, yawns and says "I'm going up to bed, you can stay up if you want." I respond, "I'm gonna finish the news then maybe see the monologue, then I'll be up." But what I really have in mind is the chocolate cake that Nora had whipped up earlier. It was so awesome that I had not one, but two, big slices earlier, and I could hear the remains gently calling my name from the kitchen. I figure I'll give her ten minutes to settle in, then I'll settle into another big slice myself, just to top off the tank before bed.

By 11:14, all seems quiet upstairs, so I turn up the TV volume a little higher and sneak into the kitchen on a search and destroy mission. I gently open the cabinet and gingerly remove a dinner plate, proud of myself because there is barely a clink to give me away. I lift the lid off the cake plate and lower it to the counter, again without any noticeable sound. Then to the silver drawer and I noiselessly lift out a cake knife and start slicing like a very fat surgeon. One bite, then two, then half the slice is gone, then all of it. Still not full, I slice off another smaller, but not insubstantial, slice. Eschewing a fork this time, I pick it up and stuff half the slice in mouth and savor the chocolaty goodness, that is until I hear the floor creak behind me ...

It's Nora and I'm busted! With an amused look on her face, she says "looks like someone really likes my baking ..."

Mouth full, I mumble, "it's" ... mmmffff ... "delicious ... babe."

She comes up behind me and reaches under my shirt to start massaging my love handles. I try to turn around to face her, but she says "go ahead and finish your cake." I finish the rest of the slice and turn around, but she reaches around me and cuts another slice, breaks off a generous piece and inserts it in my mouth. "You look like you're still hungry," she whispers, and reaches down to start tugging my shirt off. "Arms over your head" she commands and finally gets it off, and her hands now free, reaches over to insert yet another handful of cake into my mouth. I chew contentedly and she says "you definitely like my cake, don't you?" I shake my head in the affirmative and she smiles and reaches below the belly line to start tugging down my shorts, then my new 3X boxer briefs. 

I finish chewing and she begins exploring the contours of my 51.5 inch waistline, particularly my precariously sagging belly apron. "Mmmm," she says, grasping my apron with both hands, "there seems to be more here than there was a few months ago." I deploy my best nonchalant facial expression and mutter "I don't think so," which gives her a big case of the laughs. Holding on to my apron still, her laughs cause her to wobble my apron up and down almost incontrollably. Settling down, she looks me straight in the eye and says the unexpected, "my sweet fat husband, did you think that I wouldn't notice that all your clothes are fitting too tight and that you are wearing 3X underwear?" Before I answer, she continues "AND ... you probably didn't realize that our digital scale is programmed to upload to my computer anytime that you stop on it!" My eyes grew wide with that revelation ... my God, I thought that only I knew how fat I really was. "That's right," she continues, "so I know that you weighed 290 this morning and that your BMI is well into the morbidly obese range."

I know not how to respond and stay silent, figuring she will have more than enough to say. After an awkward pause, she asks "what are we going to do with you? ... all you seem to do lately is eat. And you're really good at it," she adds. Again biding my tongue, she finally says "you're going on a diet!"

I finally open my mouth to speak and ask "When do I start?"

"That's a good question," she responds and pauses before finally saying, "but we do have reservations for Sunday brunch this weekend, so maybe we should wait until after that ... you do so love their brunch menu," and pats me on my ample belly and starts leading me by the hand upstairs to bed ...


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## Fiji (Sep 3, 2015)

*Come on Fat Boy, You Can Make It!*

What followed was sheer bliss ...

As Nora leads me by the hand, she stops momentarily at the pantry, opens the door, steps in, and after moving some canned boxes of cake mix out of the way removes a bag of little chocolate donuts that I didn't know had been hiding there! She grabs my hand again, leading me upstairs, and totes the bag of chocolate perfection with the other. "Bet you didn't know these were in there, did you? I respond with a hearty "no" and she laughs and says "obviously, otherwise you would have eaten them by now!" I give her a knowing nod of the head ...

As we reach the stairs, she lets go of my hand and bounds up them with the energy of someone who isn't carrying an extra hundred (make that closer to 150) pounds on their frame. She pauses at the stop of the steps as if to taunt me at how sluggish I am after my latest weight gain. Then she giggles, then breaks out into full blown laughter, as she watches me slog up the steps. "What's so funny?," I ask. "You are silly," she says, "you should see yourself, with all that new belly blubber flopping up and down as you take another step ... there's a whole lot of shakin' going on!" Then she puffs out her cheeks and holds her arms out to her sides to mimic how fat I have become. Secretly, I'm really turned on by it and hope she will top it off with a playful epithet. It finally comes as I stop three quarters of the way up to catch my breath ... "come on Fat Boy, you can make it ..."

I beam with pride and decide to thrown caution to the wind, lifting my sagging apron with both hands to show off my now full-bore erection. "Wow," she says, "I had no idea that monster was hiding underneath all that blubber of yours!" I beam again, and she says "hurry up Fat Boy, I want to ride that Fat Boy." As I scurry up the remaining steps, she grins and says "I think you like being called a Fat Boy, don't you Fat Boy?" Without responding, I pick Nora up and thrown her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and march into the bedroom. "I'll take that for a yes, Fat Boy!," she moans.

I deposit her roughly on the bed, bag of donuts still in her hand, and spread her legs wide. "Plop that big belly right down in between" she commands and I comply. "Oh my," she moans again, "it's gotten soohhh heavy with all those cakes and pies and cookies you've eaten, it's as if every calorie has gone straight to your belly, making it bigger and bigger and bigger!" "I know," I said, "your baking is just so good, I can't resist." "And it shows Fat Boy, boy does it show!," she barks at me, while using her hands to leverage my belly enough so that I could gain room to enter her properly. As my Fat Boy makes its first thrust into her holy of holies, she commences to trash talk me ... me her loving husband of many years! "You know Fat Boy, I see all those wives with majorly obese husbands and I've always felt sorry for 'em. Good looking women ... like me ... with hungry hungry hippos waddling along beside 'em, pants too small, bellies bulging over their belts and beginning to hang down toward their knees ..." "What are 'ya gettin' at Sweetie?," I moan as I make a particularly athletic pelvic thrust for a 290 pound man. 

"What I'm getting at Tubby (oh boy, a new epithet to encourage me!) ... ooohhhh (as I make another thrust) ... is that I'm one of those women now! ... ooohhhh ... do that again Fatty (yet another new epithet!) ... I mean you are massive! .... ohhhh ... almost 300 pounds ... ooohhh ... so morbidly obese ... oooohhhh God" and she convulses under me as I finally deliver my payload and collapse on top of her in utter exhaustion.

After a couple of seconds she gasps for breath and pleads "you're crushing me Two Ton (yet another sexy new epithet!)" and with her assist I manage to roll off onto the bed beside her. She throws her arms back over her head and exclaims, "that's a major weight off!" and giggles. I chuckle at that too and roll over on my side to nibble her ears and neck while she fumbles with bag of little chocolate donuts. "Aren't you afraid I'm gonna become an even bigger ... what was it you said? ... hippo, was it?" As she extracts one of the tasty treats from the bag and pops it into my waiting mouth, she says quite slyly, "we'll deal with that next week after you have your last feat of gluttony at the Sunday Brunch ... OK Lardo? I beam with pride as that makes four different epithets she had slung at me in fifteen minutes ... I mean it was enough that I was getting hard imagining how she would behave if she ever let me hit 300 pounds!

Ten minutes later the bag of 24 donuts is empty yet my erection is full again from my wife's continuing trash talk. With nothing more at hand to feed me, Nora climbs atop my domed belly to lick the crumbs off and then, moving my belly out of the way as best she can, climbs atop another part of my anatomy for round two!


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## Fiji (Sep 4, 2015)

*Mental Health Day*

As I lay there afterwards, Nora stroking my belly to see the waves and ripples formed by my fat, I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand and see it's eight minutes to nine, meaning we're both late for work. She sees it too and says "shit, we're gonna have to call in and tell 'em we're gonna be late." But I say, "I'm feeling a little ill and you don't look so well yourself ... I think we both need a sick day." She responds "great idea Tubbo -- I'll bake a couple of pies and watch you eat 'em all!"

"Hold on Nora," I say, "I can't eat THAT much." She grabs a big handful of belly fat, grins, and says "I have great faith in your appetite Tubs and, besides, this belly looks more than big enough to hold two whole pies!" "But what about the diet you say I need to go on?" "You can worry about that next week after your one final binge at the Sunday Brunch ... until then, you have my full permission to make a perfect pig of yourself, starting with today's pies! Plus, I'll make a few more for you to enjoy the rest of the week." "You realize," I respond, "I may make it over 300 pounds with all the food between now and Monday ..." "Eat up Jumbo (another new one!)," she says, "because it's all salads and steamed veggies after this ..." 

Her gentle stroking of my belly turns to grabbing big handfuls of blubber and kneading of my rolls. I can tell she is getting into it and perhaps has been a closet chubby chaser all these years. As she kneads, she asks "do you have any clothes that really fit you well anymore?" I sheepishly answer "not really" and she says, "perhaps we should use our sick day to find you some" then adds, "remember, we're going to be the beach in two weeks and we can't have this big slab o' blubber hanging over the front of your 2X suit!" "Yeah," I say, "I should have looked for a 3X at DXL when I bought my new underwear ..."

"OK, Fatty, that settles it. Get up off your ass and try on your old 2X swim trunks, then try on some other clothes so I can take stock of what you need before the trip."

She bounds out of bed and offers her hand to help pull me up. I try to do it in one motion but don't get enough forward momentum and fall back on the bed, causing Nora to laugh uncontrollably. Finally I make a rolling motion which is enough to get my legs over the side of the bed, from which position Nora is able to help pull me upright. She says scoldingly, "you are getting REALLY fat, ya know? Maybe we need to get you eating salads a little sooner than next week ..." I flash a frown, then grab her naked body and pull her in close to my belly for a big wet kiss, then I trail my tongue down her torso, between her breasts, down to her belly button, then dropping to my knees I plant my tongue into her sweet spot, holding it open with my two thumbs. She begins moaning again and says "a really fat man really comes in handy sometimes ..."

I pause long enough to say, "just want you in the right mood for baking those pies ..." "Keep going Fat Boy," she moans, "and I'll make sure you hit 300 pounds before starting that diet on Monday!"


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## Fiji (Sep 10, 2015)

*A Bunch Too Much at the Brunch*

Between moans, Nora shouts "food isn't the only thing that tongue of yours is good for eating!" Having never felt particularly confident of my abilities when going downstairs on her, her encouragement gives me renewed enthusiasm and I increase my pace, which drives her wild. She moans louder and screams "eat me Tubby, eat me, think of my pussy as a big wet triple scoop ice cream cone and you're a greedy Fat Boy who wants it all for himself, every last bite and then wants more ... keep going Fatty ... that's it Lardo ... just a little more!" Her release finally comes and she screams with joy (certainly not the usual result of my ministrations!).

Momentarily exhausted, she flops back on the bed and exclaims "I'm gonna bake you so many pies Fat Boy!"

A bit winded myself, I flop on the bed too, and Nora climbs atop my belly to feel its full weight and intensity, and mutters "I may just miss this big ole' thing once you go on a diet and lose all your blubber ..." Sensing an opening, I ask "do I really have to go on a diet then?" She grabs my bottom roll with both hands, laughs, and unintentionally rhymes "silly boy, 300 pounds is too much weight for a man of only 5 foot - 8!" I frown and she says, "but don't worry Fat Boy, you're gonna eat high on the hog the next few days ..." At that, she bounds out of bed and says "time to bake the pies," then she pauses and says "try on those 2X swim trunks and come in the kitchen to model for me."

I lay in bed a few more minutes pondering the pain of a diet -- no more pies, no more cakes, no more cookies, less fast food and more vegetables -- it was gonna suck big time! Finally resigned to my fate, I roll myself out of bed and go fetch my swim trunks from the chest of drawers, wondering how tight they will be after gaining 40 pounds the past few months. I pull them on and, amazingly, they still fit over my bottom roll, albeit quite tight. I think to myself, "it's always wise to buy good quality ... these babies have some excellent elastic in them!"

I wander into the kitchen where Nora is already rolling out dough and she giggles at the sight of me in the too-tight XXL's. "Really showing off that belly apron there, Fat Boy!" "Too tight, huh?," I ask. "Way too tight Tubby, we're going out this afternoon to try to find you some 3X's." Then she giggles and says, "and after all these pies you may need to buy a 4X pair to have in reserve for the trip!"

I indeed ate high on the hog the next few days and it wasn't just the pies Nora made. There were big breakfasts, she packed me big lunches to take to work, and the dinners were of mammoth proportions too. It was obvious she really did want me to crack the 300 pound mark before starting my diet! And, I might add, the sex was incredible during those few days, as she rode me like a cowgirl, grasping my belly apron with both hands to keep her balance and wildly shouting epithets about how "****ing fat" I had become and telling me I had to lose weight before her friends started teasing her about having a "blimp for a husband." It was sheer bliss, I tell you!

Sunday finally rolled around and what was probably my final day of gluttony for a while. After another raucous round of sex that morning, we shower together and as we climb out she suggests I hop on the scale. With all I'd eaten the past few days I'm reluctant to climb on, but she goads until I do. I have to lean over my belly quite a bit to see the damage and am shocked and awed when I do ... 301 pounds, an eleven pound gain since Wednesday morning (but then again I had eaten a lot of pies!) and I hadn't even partaken of the Sunday Brunch yet. "Pretty impressive Tubs!," Nora shouts, then adds, "you'll probably be up to 3-0-5 by tomorrow morning after you get through demolishing the Sunday Brunch buffet!" "But then I'll have to lose it all," I mutter sadly, and she says, "but think how much fun you'll have eating today!"

We head over to the 5-star hotel early for Brunch, arriving around 11 to beat the crowd. As we walk into the huge circular dining room I am overtaken by the aroma of all my favorite foods and, even though Nora fixed me a good-sized breakfast, I'm immediately starving. She can almost see me salivating at the thought of so much food and up to three hours of unlimited trips to restock my plate! I can see a bit of an evil look on her face as she suggests that I "take a load off" and let her bring the first plate to me. "After all," she says, "you need to conserve your energy, you'll need it when you start your big diet tomorrow!"

I sit my plump ass in the dining chair and slide as close to the table as my ample belly will allow. A waitress comes over to fill my coffee cup, takes one look at my belly, and says "I'm sure you'll enjoy brunch, we have a LOT of great things for you." I pat my belly for her and respond, "don't worry, I'm gonna get my money's worth!" She smiles and says, "I'm sure you will!" As the waitress walks away, Nora appears with my first plate, and it's piled high with donuts and danish! "I thought this would give you a good start, while I work on your second plate, bon appetit Tubs!"

I dig in with gusto and they are delicious! I'm two-thirds through the first plate when wifey appears with plate #2, filled to the brim with scrambled eggs, six sausage patties, and what appears to be at least a dozen slices of bacon. Oh, and a couple of mini-slices of cantaloupe too, just to be healthy! I tell her "go get yourself something," but she wags her long lean finger at me and says, "no baby, today is all about you, and I have to start on plate #3!"

By the time she returns, all the danish and donuts are long gone and only a couple of slices of bacon remain. And plate #3 was no different from the first two, packed to the gills, but this time with steamship round of beef, at least a half pound of spiced shrimp, a few crab legs, and a huge mound of mashed potatoes! This was going to take some time to demolish and Nora finally went to fetch a small plate for herself.

I was finally a bit full as I finish off the last of plate #3 and Nora scurries off in search of more food for me. I ask the waitress to bring me a Coke, hoping that the carbonation will generate a big burp and free up more room in my already stuffed gullet. I quickly down the Coke before Nora returns and the resulting burp does the trick, I figure freeing up enough capacity for at least another couple of plates. Then Nora returns, but this time carrying TWO plates full of breakfast foods -- one with three huge pancakes coated in syrup (and not the low cal kind!) and more bacon and the other with a whole Belgian waffle also loaded with syrup plus a couple of more sausage patties.

Plates 4 and 5 definitely took some time to polish off and all the carbs and all the sugar filled me to the brim and no doubt sent my blood sugar through the roof. As I finish the last bite, I slide my chair back to give my belly more room and let out a low moaning sound as if I couldn't possibly eat any more. Nora grins and lovingly says, "you need a break, let's waddle you to the men's lounge and let some of that food settle before the next round." "NEXT round?," I ask. "Of course baby," she coos, "we paid a lot for this Brunch and you're going to get your money's worth ... I know you want to eat more, don't you?" When I don't answer, she repeats "don't you Two Ton?"

I have trouble standing up after all that I have eaten and she grabs me under one arm and helps tug me to my feet, then leads me toward the men's lounge. She goes with me into the outer room, which contain a nice plush sofa, and seeing no one else there, reaches down and unbuckles my belt and loosens my slacks to give my belly a little more room to breathe. "That feels good," I utter, and she says "just sit on a couch for a few minutes and when you're ready come on back out and I'll fix another plate for you." Then she kisses me on the forehead and whispers "you look really sexy all stuffed like this ... can't wait to get you home and get those tight clothes off you!"


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## Fiji (Sep 12, 2015)

*Catastrophe Averted*

I sit on the couch for a good five minutes while Nora leaves to enjoy a bit of brunch for herself. Finally I decide that I have to get my pants off, if only for a couple of minutes, because they are just digging into my belly something fierce. Nora had accompanied me back to DXL the afternoon of our sick day and even though I wasn't thrilled with the selection, she insisted that I buy swim trunks in 3 and 4X and basic khakis in sizes 52 (which fit perfect that day) and 54 (which were quite loose), plus some polo shirts in 3 and 4X and a 56" belt to top it all off. She picked out the 52" khakis and a navy blue 3X polo for me to wear to the Brunch. But after my amazing eleven-pound gain in just five days, the 52's were actually a little snug when I put them on today and, after stuffing myself with five heaping plates of food, they are now positively tight on me! I hoist myself up off the couch and foray into the men's room where I head to the vacant handicapped stall where I know a fat man can get a little more room to maneuver!

Almost before the stall door is closed, I let my khakis tumble down to my ankles and wrestle the elastic in my underwear down beneath my bottom roll to savor the relief to my poor belly. And I start massaging the red crease that the slacks and underwear left on my belly. Soon the circulation begins to return but I'm still in pain from the now too-tight clothes and all the calories I have consumed. I glance at my watch and I've been gone for eight minutes and know that I need to return to battle. So I massage my poor aching belly one more time and squat down to pull up my khakis. Sucking in my gut as best I can, I tuck in my shirt and strain to get the 52s refastened. I think "Jesus, these bitches are tight," and finally decide to leave the fastener unfastened to give myself an extra inch or so of relief, figuring that my extra wide and extra long belt will hide the evidence. As I step out of the stall, I check myself in the mirror and see an enormously fat man staring back at me. "Good lord," I think, "I've turned into a f**king blimp!" But then I rationalize, "but it's OK, I'm going on a diet tomorrow and soon I'll be able to fit into all of my nice old clothes again."

As Nora sees me re-enter the dining room, she is up to her feet and heading to the serving tables to bring me yet more goodies. I waddle over to my seat and plop down hard, putting additional pressure on my bloated belly. Soon she is back with plate #6 and whispers in my ear, "don't worry Tubs, I won't make you eat too much more!" This one is chock full of all my favorites from the previous plates -- two big delicious cinnamon buns, scrambled eggs, another dozen slices of bacon, and a heaping serving of spiced shrimp and crab legs. I take a deep breath and dig in, which seems to delight Nora to no end as she sits back and sips on a cup of coffee. As I start to flag about halfway through the plate, she stands and walks around behind me and whispers in my ear, "undo your belt while I stand here and block everyone's view." "Good idea," I whisper back and discreetly reach down to undo the buckle. "Feel better now, Fatty?" she whispers and I shake my head yes. She returns to her seat and I return to finishing off the plate.

When I finally finish, I look over at Nora and pleadingly tell her "I don't think I can take another bite."

"Nonsense," she says, "we haven't even had dessert!" She heads off in the direction of the dessert table and before long comes back with a variety of treats, including what appears to be a dozen of the mini-chocolate eclairs that are my Kryptonite! I eat a couple of the eclairs and moan, "I can't handle anymore, I'm stuffed baby ..." Nora gives me a disapproving look and moves from her seat across the table from me to one right beside me. She scolds me "you're not finished until I say you're finished Fat Boy," and picks up a forkful of carrot cake and lifts it to my mouth. And when I don't immediately open up, she wraps her free hand around my fat cheeks and forces my mouth open! I glance over at the next table and the skinny young couple there are pointing and giggling at us, so to avoid further embarrassment, I decide to take back control of the fork and slowly but surely polish off the rest of the dessert plate. While I push through the pain, Nora's hand is discreetly under the table cloth massaging my aching belly, while she keeps whispering encouragement, "you can do it Tubs ... I'm so proud of you ... eat through the pain ... that's it Fatty ... just think about what I'm gonna do to that big fat belly you when we get home" and more of the same.

Finally I finish the last bite and begin to push my chair back from the table, that is until Nora reminds me that my belt and khakis are undone! She again stands up to block other diners' view, while I suck in my gut and get my khakis and belt readjusted. Nora asks, "think you can stand up on your own, Big Boy?" and when I give a noncommittal answer, she reaches her hand under one of my flabby armpits and helps give me a tug out of my chair. I sort of stumble my first couple of steps while trying to gain my sea legs and she helps steady me as we plod slowly toward to exit. Once outside, she finds a bench for me to sit while the valet retrieves our car and she sits beside me and whispers in my ear again. "That was quite a feat of gluttony ... and I actually enjoyed watching you eat so much ... and it kind of got me thinking ... perhaps we can delay that diet until we return from our beach vacation." I turn to her and smile and she says, "I know how much you love the food at the resort and I just can't deny you that pleasure my fat baby ..."


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## Fiji (Sep 14, 2015)

*The Drive Home*

As Nora drives us home, my belly spasming with pain with every bump in the road, I attempt to do the math -- twelve days until we leave on our resort vacation ... no diet ... likely more relentless cooking and baking by my wife -- I'd be lucky if I didn't put on another 15 pounds on top of whatever today's gluttony will add. That means I could be in the 320 pound range by the time we leave! Then a week at the resort with its incredible breakfast buffet, Friday night seafood buffet, lunch and snacks delivered right to poolside, an ice cream and candy shoppe onsite ... I might be at 330 by the time I get back home ... that would be a gain of over 80 pounds in nine months and around 40 pounds in just about one month! Maybe Nora is right -- I REALLY will need to go on a diet when we get back ... or else I'll be at 350 by Thanksgiving, and that was a conservative estimate at the rate I'm gaining of late. How could I let myself get so fat? How could NORA let me get this fat?

Perhaps reading my mind, Nora looks over at me holding my belly with both hands, and taunts me, "you are getting REALLY, REALLY fat my dear ... I can't begin to imagine how big you'll be by the time we get back from vacation ... I'm bettin' you'll be a big fat 3-4-oh when you get back! In fact, Fat Boy, I think I should go by DXL tomorrow night after work and buy you some 60 inch waist shorts, a few 5X polos, and a 6X set of swim trunks so you'll have somethin' to wear!"

"Oh come on," I groan, "no way I can weigh that much (although her estimated was only ten pounds more than mine!)." 

"Hah!," she guffaws, "you don't realize just how much you ate today ... I mean just about everyone in that dining room was looking at you, taking down plate after plate ... if you keep that up, you'll be lucky if you're not 350 pounds by the time we get back! And if let you go until on like this until Christmas, you'd be at least 400 pounds ... imagine that Fatty ... YOU at 400 pounds!"

I tried to suppress it, but a little grin came to my face, and Nora picked up on it right away ... "I think that kind of turns you on, doesn't it Fatty? Being a 400 pound tub o' lard, me having to find your dick buried underneath a mountain of fat?" I kind of shrug my shoulders and she knows I'm in fact turned on, so much that I forget the extreme pain in my belly and think instead about how horny I am and what I could do to Nora if she would just pull the car over!

"You ARE turned on, aren't you?," she taunts again, and pokes a long index finger into my bulging belly, "what am I going to do with you my fat Romeo?" I give her a sly grin and say "you can start by getting me home and getting these clothes off ... and yours too!"


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## Fiji (Sep 15, 2015)

*Home Again*

As we continue home, I suspect Nora is deliberately hitting every bump and pothole in the road, just to see my belly fat wobble up and down! I'm relieved when we finally pull into the driveway but then dread the fifty foot walk to the front door. Nora unfastens her belt and walks around the passenger side to open my door and extend a hand to help pull me up. "How's that big ole' belly doin'?," she asks. "Still full," I moan. "Well Big Boy," she says, "if you can still fit through the front door after all that food, we'll get you in and get those tight clothes off ..."

"How about those 'surprises' you said you had in store for me?," I ask.

"Be patient Fat Boy! Good things come to Fat Boys who wait ..."

Her arm wrapped around my love handle, we walk side by side to the front door and, miracle of miracles, I still fit after my protracted gluttony at the Sunday Buffet. As soon as the door closes behind us, Nora is ripping off my clothes, telling me, "I know you're not going to be able to make it up the stairs carrying that heavy load," groping my even more distended than usual belly as she says it. "You're not kidding Fatty, you ARE full, this top shelf is tight as a drum," but she then moves her hands down lower and exclaims, "but your apron is still so soft and super jiggly ... I could play with this all day ... and maybe I will!"

"So you like my big fat belly?," I ask teasingly. "Yes I do, my majorly obese husband, and I'm gonna help you make it even fatter by the time we get back from vacation ... you're REALLY gonna need a diet by then Fatty!" "What are you gonna do to me Skinny Girl?", I tease her again. "Well Tubs, I'm gonna start by sitting your fat ass on the couch, cutting on the Seahawks game, and watching you eat junk food ALL afternoon."

When I get a dejected look on my face, she asks, "did you have something else in mind Belly Boy?" "Maybe," I say coyly. "You mean like this?" and she pushes me backwards onto the couch, causing an audible groaning from the couch's springs. "Whoa Nelly," she screams, "I almost thought the couch was a goner there!" Then she does an incredible strip tease for me, bringing Mini-me to full attention, lifts my belly apron, and screws her lithe little body down on top of mine. Then she begins the trash talk that I have started to live for ... "you are just SO fat my baby ... I never dreamed I'd be married to such a blimp ... and never imagined I'd love it so much ... and you want me to help you get so much fatter ... you just can't stop eating ... and I just can't stop encouraging you ... you're gonna be 350 pounds easy by the time we get back ... and what if I let you keep eating after that ... 400 by Thanksgiving ... 500 by Christmas ... you can be Santa Clause at my office Christmas party ... all the girls will be so jealous of me having a quarter ton hubby who needs no padding to play Santa ... you'll just be SO enormous ... you really might get stuck in the front door after that ... whatdayathink about that Fatty?" "I ... I ... I ... LOVE it!," I scream and explode my load into her. "So do I, baby, so do I," she whispers softly in my ear.


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## Fiji (Sep 15, 2015)

*Vacation Prep*

"Why don't you just stay here and take a nice nap and sleep off all that food," Nora whispers in my ear, "while I head off to the kitchen and prepare your game day treats. By the time you wake up, I'll have a nice spread all ready for you to enjoy the rest of the afternoon ..."

I awake about a half hour later and indeed there is a feast waiting for me! The coffeetable in front of the couch is covered in junk food -- a huge bowl of chips, a big can of Planter's peanuts, a bowl of pretzels, a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts stacked on a silver tray, and more ...

As she sees my eyes open, Nora gets up from her chair and plants a glazed donut on top of each of my moobs and says "I thought you'd be hungry after your nap, so eat up my fat baby ..."

I groggily respond, "I'm not sure I can after my earlier performance ..." "Of course, you can," she encourages me, "you're my big fat husband with an endless appetite and I went to a lot of work arranging this ... so EAT Fatty! Here," she says again, "have this," and brings one of the donuts to my lips. As I accept it, she says, "I'll be right back with a nice big icy Coke to wash it down with."

After she returns with my beverage, she walks over to the television to cut on the game and the second quarter has just begun with the Seahawks up seven. Soon Russel Wilson athletically carves up the opposing defense with a nice read option run and I think about how toned these young athletes are and how enormously fat I'm getting. I ask Nora, "do you ever think it would be good to be with an athletic stud like that, instead of a fat guy like me?" She smiles and says, "I used to, but now that I've gone fat I'm never goin' back" and plants a big wet kiss on my forehead.

Then she says, "oh, I almost forgot!" I ask "what did you forget?" and she says "I'll be right back ..."

I grab a handful of chips, crumbs dropping on my top shelf, then reach for another donut, and she walks back in carrying the pitcher from our blender, full of what looks like chocolate shake! Although I'm still quite full from brunch, I have to admit that the shake looks tempting ...

"I made this special for you babe," she says, beaming proudly from ear to ear. "What is it?," I ask, expectantly. "It's a special formula, designed to make you REALLY REALLY fat before we go on vacation ... chocolate ice cream, chocolate chips, cream instead of milk, a stick of butter, and ... wait for it ... some gainer formula I bought from GNC yesterday!" "My God," I exclaimed, "how many calories is that?" "I lost count," she gushes, "but it's thousands!"

"You wanna pour me a glass?"

"A glass?," she laughs, "I thought I'd pour it straight into you! Open up wide Fatty!"

I tilt my head back and she starts pouring it gently right into my mouth and it tastes great! So good that after a few gulps, I take the pitcher in my own hands and start chugging it myself. It's going down so fast that it starts dripping down my chin and onto my top shelf where Nora starts licking up the excess, turning me on yet again.

I can only get down about half of the pitcher until my belly is just too full to go on. While a bit disappointed I don't polish it all off, Nora is turned on too, and takes the pitcher back from me and sets it on the coffee table. Soon I'm on my back again and pondering just how much I'm going to weigh by the start of our vacation in eleven days!


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## Fiji (Sep 18, 2015)

*The Weigh In Can Wait*

As we lay on the couch afterwards, Nora resting her head between my moobs, asks, "ready to polish off the rest of that gainer shake Big Boy?" "Oohhh," I moan, "I couldn't possibly fit any more in my belly right now." "But did you like it?," she asks. "It was great!" "So you wouldn't mind if I whip you up one every day until we leave for the resort?" "That would be great," I respond and lean my head forward to plant a little kiss on her forehead. She moans herself, "oh I could just lay on this big cushy pillow of yours all afternoon ... but I must get up and you have a game to watch."

"If you must ..." I say, secretly glad that she may be getting off me, with my belly so full, even her quite paltry 140 pounds is causing me great pain!

"OK, I'm off," she says and puts a hand on each of my moobs to push herself away. "Wow," she remarks, "your girls are getting as big as mine, just saggier and flabbier!" "So are you suddenly a boob girl?," I ask. "Only for your hooters, Big Boy, only for yours ..." she responds with a grin. Then she plants her face between them and motorboats me! 

Finished with my boobs, Nora turns her delightful rump to me to pick up the half-full pitcher of shake and cart it off to the kitchen, but I have second thoughts and ask "babe, can I have another couple of sips of shake before you pour it out?" "Of course honey," she coos, and hands it to me. I tilt it to my lips to take a long drag, then take a break and Nora asks, "just a little more?" "It is so tasty," I say, "so just a bit more," and I take another long quaff. "You know," Nora says in her most practical tone of voice, "it's a shame for it to go to waste, why don't you just try to finish it all off? Another few sips should do it ..."

"I don't know if I can," I say meekly. "Bunk!," Nora shouts, startling me a bit, "where's the man who took down an entire Brunch buffet just a few hours ago, BE A MAN and drink the rest of that shake!" "Yes maam!," I respond smartly and proceed to take down the rest of the shake over the next two or three minutes, bringing a wide smile to Nora's beautiful face. As she retrieves the empty pitcher from my hands and begins to walk away, she turns to me, nipples visibly erect, and says, "you know Fatty, seeing you finish that shake REALLY turned me on." "For real?," I ask. "For real Tubs and when that game is over maybe I can show you just how turned on I am." "You know where to find me," I say in my most inviting tone of voice and she giggles and responds, "yeah, where the food is Fat Boy!" Then she turns and walks away, pausing after a couple of steps and, looking back at me over her shoulder, says "I've been thinking, let's wait to weigh you until we get ready to leave for the resort ... that way the suspense ... not to mention the pounds ... will REALLY build up!"


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## fat hiker (Sep 24, 2015)

Another wonderful new story!


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## Fiji (Sep 25, 2015)

*The Night Before*

It's Thursday night before we fly to Florida on Friday morning and I'm feeling particularly fat! The regime of daily gainer shakes, a huge breakfast and dinner at home, a big lunch at work, snacks throughout the day at work, and a pie or cake for dessert every night had left a noticeably heftier belly staring at me in the mirror. I had stayed true to Nora and hadn't snuck a weigh-in during the last ten days, but the curiousity was getting to me and I think to her too. I had been at 301 before "the Sunday Brunch Affair," as Nora was calling it now, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit if I was now at 320 pounds ... nope a two pound a day gain wouldn't surprise me at all.

In fact, I'm trying on clothes to take with me on the trip and with most of the items the fabric isn't stretching around my waist anymore. I knew the 50 inch waist and 3X items Nora had insisted I buy probably wouldn't fit anymore, but the 52's weren't working either, and the 54's and 4X models were uncomfortably tight. Nora, who is packing herself in the next room, pokes her head in to see how I'm doing and seems quite amused at the sight of me in my too-tight clothes. "Babe," she snarks, "you'll just have to wear those shorts UNDER your apron cause they sure ain't gonna fit AROUND it!"

"Ha ha," I say and she says, "hang on a minute Fat Boy, I'm not letting you take off to the beach with nothing that will fit!"

In a flash, she was back with a huge DXL shopping bag and another from the Big and Fat department from one of the department stores in town. "Check these out Blubber Boy, I've got stuff in sizes from 56 to 62 inches and 5 and 6X sports shirts, underwear, and swim trunks -- see which ones fit and take those, plus maybe some of the bigger ones in case you need them by the time we get back." "6X," I moan, and she gives me a scolding look and says, "if you put on any more weight you may need 'em ... plus, 6X will handle up to a 64-inch waistline, so they should give you plenty of room even if you totally pig out down in Florida!"

"Oh, and while we're at it," she says very matter of factly, "it's time for your weigh-in, let's see how much tonnage you've added since your shameful Sunday Brunch Affair." "Shameful?" I asked. "Just kidding Tubs," she said affectionately, "you know how hot all that eating got me!" "I seem to remember," I answered coyly, and pulled her into me for a big kiss.

After a minute or so of canoodling, Nora barks, "stop stalling, I wanna see how much you weigh!" She leads me by the hand to the bathroom and teases me, "I hope the scale can handle all your weight!" I pause for a second before stepping on, hoping against hope that I haven't hit the 320 mark, but Nora's squeal of delight indicates otherwise. "YOU fat PIG, you weigh 328 pounds!" My God, I thought, 27 pounds in ten days, eleven days, whatever it was ... "Guess those gainer shakes of mine packed a lot more punch than I thought," Nora says in awe, "close to three pounds a day! Keep this up at the resort this week and you'll be 350 by the time we return!"

With a glint in her eye, Nora then says, "now let's measure that waistline of yours ... I'm not even sure my five foot measuring tape will be enough anymore," and scurries off to her sewing room to fetch it. Back in a minute, she commands me NOT to suck it in, but to "let it all hang out," and wraps the tape carefully around my circumference. "It's close," she says, "but I have just enough tape ... let's see ... oh my ... 58 and a quarter inches ... congratulations Fatty, you're definitely in 5X territory now ... and to think ... you were still comfortably in 2X's just a couple of months ago ..."

I sigh and say "yes, it's true, I'm really fat ... and what are you gonna do it about my skinny little wife?" "Hhhmmmm," she says, "there's a big kind bed over there ... and you don't have any clothes on Fat Boy ... and I've got a cherry pie downstairs ... and ..." "And I'll meet you in the bed in five minutes," I interrupt, "and don't forget to bring the pie!"

*The Airport*

What can I say about Nora? We have a 7 a.m. flight and she gets up at 4 to fix me a big breakfast. Not just a big breakfast, a huge one ... a half dozen eggs, a pound of bacon, a half dozen donuts she had bought fresh the night before, AND one of her now-patented gainer shakes.

I'm totally stuffed by the time we leave for the airport at 5:30, so much so I need her to drive while I lean my seat back and relieve the pressure on my belly.

Apparently not wanting me to get too much exercise, Nora drops me at the door with our bags while she parks the car in the deck. Obviously looking like someone too lazy to tote his bag inside, a skycap quickly rushes to me and asks "give you a hand Big Man?" I gladly pull a ten spot out of my pocket and hand off our bags to him as I head inside the airport to find a seat and take a load off my knees.

Ten minutes later Nora ambles up to me from behind, so I can't see her, and whispers in my ear, "what's a sexy Fatty like you doing here?" Not missing a beat, I respond, "waiting for a hot chick who wants to do it with a Fat Man!" 

"In that case, consider me your 'hot chick' ... you look like you'd be Tons o' Fun!" 

"328 pounds worth and on my way to 350 my wife tells me." 

"You're married? What a lucky woman to be married to such a sexy blimp of a man!"

"No, I'm the lucky one ..."

"And don't you forget it Fat Boy! Now let's waddle you to the gate."

As we walk toward security, Nora elbows me in between my rolls of fat and says "tell you what, leave your keys in your pocket when you go through the detector." "Why would I do that?" "I'm just hoping they'll strip search you and let me watch them fondle all those rolls of blubber ... that would be SO hot!"

"Geez," I respond, "you've got a one-track mind lately ... so much so, I wonder if you're ever really gonna let me go on a diet." 

"Nonsense Tubby! You're just getting WAY too fat and I'm gonna put you on that diet as soon as we get back."

"OK," I say, "just checking ..."

She giggles and says "besides, if I don't put you on a diet, you'll be 600 pounds before you know it" and jabs me in the side with her elbow again.

We go through the metal detectors without incident although one of the female TSA inspectors has me step aside for a belly and moob pat down. As she does it, I do secretly think how exhilerating it would be if she had selected me for a strip search, checking between my belly rolls for hidden weapons, spreading my ass cheeks, lifting my apron to check under the hood and finding me with a huge erection peaking out from under my fat pad ..."

I get lost thinking about it until the inspector says "sir, sir, we're through with you, you're holding up the line ..."

Nora, standing on the other side of security, has a smirk on her face and as I grab my shoes, belt, and iPhone and wander over to her, she says, "admit it Fats, you wish they had strip-searched you too!" I give her a sly look and admit, "that would have been fun!"

"You just LOVE the idea of people playing with your fat, don't ya?"

"You know Nora, I really do!"

"Come on Belly Boy, we've still got 40 minutes until boarding time, so let's stop and get you some more breakfast before we leave ... don't want you getting hungry on the flight!"


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## Fiji (Sep 25, 2015)

*A Fattening Flight*

On our way to the gate, Nora and I stop by a little place that is serving breakfast biscuits and the like. I sit down and rest my legs while she goes to the counter and orders. In a couple of minutes, she's back with two sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits and a giant Mountain Dew. She, of course, just has a cup of black coffee for herself.

"Sure you don't want one of these?," I ask. She huffs in response, "and get fat like you, no thanks!"

Both biscuits are wolfed down in less than five minutes and I pick walk to the counter for a refill of Mountain Dew then head to the gate with Nora.

Again, I sit down to rest, and Nora heads off to the restroom ostensibly, but I suspect she'll come back with pre-boarding snacks. Ten minutes later my hypothesis proves correct as she has a bag full of snacks in her hand and all of them the giant size variety which is all you can find in airports nowadays -- a four-pack of Mounds (also what she calls my moobs as of late), a massive Mr. Goodbar (another nickname she has for me), and a big bag of kettle corn.

Looking at the load she has for me, I wonder if my seatbelt will fit on the plane. The last time I flew for business was when I only weighed about 275 and I had a lot of trouble getting the belt fastened. And now that I weigh over fifty pounds more I can only imagine what it will be like! Fortunately, we make enough between us to be able to afford first class seats for the flight, so maybe the seatbelts will be a little longer there than they were my last flight when I had to sit in steerage class ... 

Despite still being full from the two biscuits and close to 64 ounces of Mountain Dew, I take down all four pieces of Mounds within a minute or two, then dig into the bag of kettle corn. "Want me to go back and get a refill of Mountain Dew?," Nora asks sweetly. "Would you?," I ask back sweetly and she scampers off.

By the time she retuns, half the popcorn is gone and I have dug into the Mr. Goodbar, polishing off about a third of it. "My," Nora says, "someone has quite the appetite this morning ... I thought you'd have some left for the flight, but obviously I was wrong!" I look sheepishly at her and say, "but I figured I'd need to finish it all before we board ... since there will be plenty of snacks in first class and all ..."

"It's OK baby," she coos and pats me on my belly, "you're just a growing boy and you need your nourishment!"

About that time, the gate attendant makes her pre-boarding announcement and Nora says "finish it all off quick, we'll be boarding in a couple of minutes!" So I polish off the rest of the Mr. Goodbar, but wrap up the popcorn and hand it to her to put in her bag ... "I'll finish that later!"

Soon we're boarded and find our seats. As I sit down, a cute older flight attendant, very old school (buxom with a healthy backyard too), whispers in my ear, "will you need an extender sir?" "I'll let you know in a minute," I whisper back. "Very good then sir," she answers with a smile, "when you get settled, I'll bring you back some snacks to choose from -- we've got lots of yummy stuff."

As she walks back to her station in the galley, I check my seatbelt and ... surprise, it fits around me perfectly. Soon she is back with the snack tray and while I feign non-interest, Nora grabs one of every snack -- Famous Amos cookies, Pringles chips, pretzels, you name it. Then she orders me a double scotch rocks ... she knows me so well! The flight attendant smiles and says to Nora, "looks like you take good care of your man ... I have one at home just like him ... such a cutie!" Then she leans over and whispers in my ear, "don't worry, your wife and I will keep you well fed on this flight ... don't want you losing any of that sexy fat on my watch!"

I blush noticeably and Nora leans over and asks "what did she say to you?" I lie and say "just that I'm lucky to have a wife like you ..." "Smart woman," Nora responds and rips open the bag of Famous Amos to start feeding me cookies.

The take off is smooth and no bumps on our climb to cruising altitude. It's a four-hour flight so I know I'll be served a meal in first class and wonder what it will be. About an hour in, our flight attendant serves us and it's yet another breakfast biscuit. It's tolerable yet I demolish it quickly, so quickly in fact that the flight attendant comes over and says, "I have one more left if you'd like it," and before I can answer, Nora says "that would be nice, thank you!" So I add a second airline meal to my now incredible morning intake of calories!

After all that, I'm really in need of the aircraft lavatory and unbuckle my belt to move forward through the aisle. Reaching my objective, I find the lavatory occupied and wait my turn, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. Finally the door opens and behold, it's another fat guy, probably my size or even a little bigger and there isn't enough room for him to step around me! Finally the flight attendant waves me toward the galley so the other big guy can get by. I turn around to thank her and she mouths silently "that was so hot" and I blush again.

Finally inside, I let my pants down and relieve myself, feeling so much better. Washing my hands, I turn off the sink, flush, and open the lavatory door, only to see Nora on the other side. She puts her finger to her lips for me to be quiet and waves me to step back into the lavatory. In an instant she is through the door and locks it behind.

"I've got a surprise for my Fat Boy," she whsipers, "drop your drawers Fatty." I do as commanded and she pulls out another small bag of Famous Amos and with one hand deposits a cookie into my mouth while her other hand reaches under my belly overhang to start ratcheting down my underwear! 

She hands me the rest of the bag and says "you can eat these yourself," then uses one free hand to lift up my apron and the other tightly grasp around my now engorged cock. Soon she is into a rythym and says "keep eating Fatty and I'll keep pumping." "Yes maam," I eagerly reply. 

As she works on me, Nora giggles, "your belly isn't the only thing that seems to be getting thicker, is it Fatty?" All I could do was moan and say "finish me off baby, there aren't but a couple of cookies left ..." "Just think of how much fatter you're gonna be after vacation," she moaned, "350 pounds of soft jiggling blubber ..." And that was all it took to bring things to fruition.

"That was great baby," I moaned, as she grabbed some towels from the dispenser to clean up my mess. "Now get yourself dressed and I'll head back to our seat ... and don't bring too much attention to yourself ... play it cool!"

Right, play it cool, I thought. A 328 pound man gets a hand job at six miles high and no one in the first class cabin is gonna notice! Still, I get my underwear and pants hitched back up, check myself in the mirror and gingerly open the lavatory door. No one is waiting to come in, that's good, and I peak my head out and no one seems to be paying any attention. That is until I look back and see the flight attendant, beaming from ear-to-ear and flashing me a big thumbs up! I blush yet again in her presence and she taps me on the shoulder and whispers, "I figured you might need some more energy after all that, so I left some more snacks with your wife ... eat up Big Boy!"

*Final Approach*

Our fat-friendly flight attendant keeps attending to my needs, plying me with more scotch, which got me a little tipsy, in turn better enabling Nora to fill me with more of the endless supply of snacks the flight attendant kept delivering. 

The other first class passengers were definitely beginning to notice my gluttony, so I was glad I was a bit inebriated -- the alcohol did away with any inhibitions I normally would have had about eating so much in confined public place!

The coup de grace comes with about an hour left in the flight when our flight attendant starts distributing hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the galley oven. The smell is as intoxicating as the scotch I was guzzling and I simply had to get some of those cookies in my belly!

Fortunately some of the health nuts riding in first class decline her offer, which I immediately knew meant more for moi! But I play it coy when she arrives by our seats ... I take only two and Nora takes two more. Before going to the next row, however, our flight attendant whispers in my ear the words I had been awaiting, "don't worry sexy, any that are left over are going into that big ol' belly of yours! Your wife wants it nice and huge to parade around the beach ..."

I love Nora dearly, but at that moment, I want to take the flight attendant into the lavatory and motorboat her sensational breasts while she feeds me chocolate chip cookies! I am definitely envious of her fat hubby ... and wonder if he is as fat as me!

Instead, I polish off my two cookies in a flash, then look longingly at Nora's two which remain untouched. Finally I ask my wife "what are you waiting for?" "For you to beg me for them Fat Boy!," she responds, "you know you want them, they're just calling out to you, 'eat us Fat Boy, eat us', and all you have to do is beg me to give them to you, beg me Piggy!"

"Please baby, pretty please, I need those cookies ... how am I ever going to reach 350 pounds if I don't have them?"

"That's pretty good," Nora says dispassionately, and reaches one of the cookies to my lips. Soon it and the other cookie are gone, and I begin to wonder when the flight attendant will deliver the rest. I can see her fiddling with something in the galley and hope it's my stash. 

After delivering more drinks to some other passengers, she returns to the galley to retrieve something ... it's a white paper bag ... could it be mine? But then she grabs the trash bag to carry through the cabin and my hopes seem dashed ...

But as she walks past us picking up passenger's empty cups and napkins and snack bags, she surrepticiously places the white paper bag on my tray and silently mouths "enjoy." Nora slides the bag over to her side so no one will notice my extra helping of cookies, and she finds six of them inside, along with a handwritten note.

She whispers in my ear what it says:

"Hope you enjoy eating these as much as I enjoy seeing you eat them! I have a soft spot for fatties as my husband weighs 400 pounds and I know it's important to keep a big man filled up at ALL times. If you're ever in Atlanta look us up, it will be SO much fun for all four of us to go to an all-you-can-eat buffet!"

As the flight attendant saunters back by, delicious derriere swaying as she goes, she looks over at Nora who gives her a big thumbs up. I start imagining that we'll be making a special trip to Atlanta at some point ... and thinking again about how lucky that woman's husband is ... lucky (and super fat) bastard! 

Already being full, it takes the rest of the flight for me to polish off those last six cookies, and before long the pilot announces that we're making our final approach into the airport. As she makes her final check of the cabin, our flight attendant whispers in my ear again, "I called ahead and have lined up a motorized cart to pick you up and take you to baggage claim ... after all, we don't want you burning up any more of those precious calories than you have to!" I blush again, this time at the thought that I'm so fat I can't be expected to walk to baggage claim on my own!

As we taxi to our gate, Nora leans over and rests her head on my protruding belly. I like that. As we get closer to the gate, she raises her head back up and whispers in my ear, "you have been quite the greedy pig today, but we'll be in our suite in less than an hour and then I'll show you how your wife deals with fat greedy gluttonous pigs ... are you ready Fat Boy?" "I'm always ready!," I respond excitedly.


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## Fiji (Oct 3, 2015)

*In Our Room*

It's a comforting sight as our car pulls up in front of the resort, which gives the appearance of an oversized Venetian piazza. Although we have visited several times over the years, I am still spellbound as we stroll into the lobby, opulent in a way that simply cannot be recreated in a modern building, even one of Donald Trump's over-the-top monstrosities. Murals on the ceiling, murals on the walls, mahogany everywhere, wonderful oil paintings, incredible carpets and drapes, plush furniture just waiting for my big ass to sit in, you name it, they have it here. It's definitely an old-school kind of place, which is why Nora and I keep coming back.

True to form, I plop down on a comfy love seat to rest my legs while Nora checks us in. I think back to the first time we ever came here and there was a power outage in the whole town that lasted a couple of hours, forcing us to have to walk up the fire stairs to our suite. Even though I only weighed about 230 then (wow, almost a hundred pounds lighter than I am now!), I thought I was gonna die, going up five flights of steps, legs feeling rubbery after two flights, sweating like a pig, and breathing deeply with each step. I laugh to myself, thinking that if that happened now, I'd have trouble making it up just one flight! 

I must admit, I have eaten myself into one fat piggy ... and it probably makes sense for me to go on that diet when we get back from Florida ... while the thought of being 400 pounds by Halloween and 500 by Christmas is oh so titillating, it's also pretty scary! For one, would I still have a job at that weight? Would any company possibly want a 400 or 500 pound senior executive waddling around the office, scaring off the skinny little 20-somethings, not to mention customers? I guess it's a good thing that Nora has a hefty income in her own right, actually a lot more than mine ... so that if I ever do lose my job, at least I won't be wondering where my next all-you-can-eat Brunch will come from!

I snap out of my reflective mood, as I see Nora, grinning from ear-to-ear, walking toward me, hips swaying in an exaggerated sexy kind of way. "What's so funny?," I ask. 

"Oh, I was just thinking of what I would do to you when we get up to suite ..."

"Oh goody," I respond, then ask, "did you make sure to get a key to the mini-bar?" Almost before I finish asking, she dangles the key from her pinky finger, and says seductively, "I hope you're ready ..."

"Let's go," I say excitedly, then try to get myself up off the loveseat, which sits kind of low to the floor. Nora laughs as gravity keeps pulling me back to a seated position and finally reaches out her hands to mine to give me the assist I need. "You definitely need a diet Fat Boy," she lovingly whispers in my ear, then shoots an evil look at a blue-haired society matron type who has been looking askance at us.

As we wait for the elevator, my stomach rumbles, and Nora pulls a big Mr. Goodbar out of her purse and hands it to me. I eagerly rip open the wrapper and break off a row of the chocolaty and nutty goodness. Finally the door opens and Nora inserts our key into the security pad and presses 5 so we can be on our way.

As the door starts to close, a tiny little hand reaches in to trigger the doors to reopen. In steps a tiny little blond cutie, maybe early 20s, no more than 5'2" and maybe 105 pounds. With her is a young man about my height with a nice starter belly, maybe a hundred pounds heavier than his wife or girlfriend. 

She starts to insert her key, but notices that we're already going to 5. As her husband or boyfriend goes to the wall opposite Nora and I, the little cutie sizes me up, and blurts out kind of sweetly, in what seems to be a former Soviet republic kind of accent, "someone getting a fatty pig!," patting me gently on the belly as she says it. As Nora smiles, cutie girl then turns to her significant other and says, "want this for you!"

Nora smiles at cutie, reaches out her hand, and says "I'm Nora, let's talk, I can give you some pointers on fattening up your man." Cutie responds, "Luidmila, glad to meet you, I like that very much."

As we arrive at the fifth floor, I look at Cutie's significant other, and say "good luck" and he responds in an English accent, "she wants me to be 500 pounds." I give him a thumbs up and exit the car, only to find out that they are heading in the same direction as us. Then we find the right hallway and hang a right and they do too! Turns out they are only two doors down from us and I start envisioning the two women stuffing their men while comparing notes on fattening recipes and the like!

Almost before the door closes behind us, Nora is stripping off my clothes then inserting the key into the mini-bar lock to see what awaits my consumption. As she starts fondling my belly rolls, there is a knock on the door ... drat! It's the bellman with our bags.

"Just a second," Nora shouts and shoves me into the bathroom, handing me the rest of the Mr. Goodbar to tide me over. 

A couple of minutes later and the rest of the Mr. Goodbar gone, she yells, "coast is clear Fatty, you can come out now." I emerge and immediately achieve a boner and a half, as there my sexy wife is, lying on the bed, with all manner of mini-bar treats arrayed on her beautiful naked body! "All for me?," I ask expectantly. "All for you Fat Boy," she responds in a sultry voice, "come and get 'em."


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## Fiji (Oct 6, 2015)

*Making My Point*

Of all the delicious choices she has arrayed before me, Nora's pert little breasts are the first tasty treats I seek. First I nuzzle them with my beard, the tickle of my facial hair elicting a giggle and a "stop that Fatty," then I gently lap at them with with my tongue, while tickling her clit with my thumb and forefinger. That elicits not a giggle, but a decided moan of ecstasy, then the command, "f**k the snacks Fatty, I need you to get right to business!"

With my free hand, I pop a Reese's cup in my mouth, then brush all the other assorted candies and chips and nuts off her chest and onto the sheets. As I chew, Nora grabs my head with both hands and pulls my lips to hers for a chocolate and peanut butter-flavored kiss. Then she commands again, "I need you in me Fat Boy ... NOW!"

"Yes ma'am," I respond, then make the mistake of thinking too much, asking her, "you want on top Baby?"

She glares at me and in a serious tone of voice, responds, "on top? ... no, I want you to f**k me like a man, that is unless you're too f**king fat to do it on top any more!"

I don't say a word, but decide I'm gonna show her what this fat man can do! I find another Reese's cup on the sheets beside me and pop it into my mouth, then spread my bride's legs wide and reach them toward the sky, inserting my belly into the gap. I put my hands under her cheeks and lift her off the sheets to create more clearance between belly and cock, enough to grant me entry to her already dripping pussy. That elicits another decidedly ecstatic moan and "u da man Fat Boy!" 

As I plow away, Nora explores the sheets with her hand, feeling around franticly, looking for another sweet to pop in my mouth, finally locating a Snickers bar that she brings to my lips. I rip off a big bite and as I begin chewing, she moans "it's so sexy seeing you eat ... that Russian chick was right ... you are such a fat piggy ... a greedy pig who can't stop eating ... can you Fatty?"

"Not as long as I have a sexy feeder like you," I moan in return, "now give me another bite!" As she does, I feel her shudder slightly, then convulse majorly underneath me, letting out a hint of a whimper, then a cry of "finish me off Fatty, I can't take much more of this!"

"Call me a pig again," I command. "You're such a f**king fat pig," she moans as gritting her teeth. "Tell me how fat you're gonna make me," I command again. "500 f**king pounds, you're gonna be a quarter ton mountain o' lard," she screams. My final command is "tell me how far my belly is gonna hang when you're through with me." "You're gonna be such a tub o' lard," then she pauses to take a deep breath ... "such a tub o' lard?," I ask ... then with one last burst of energy, she screams "it's gonna hang to your knees Fat Boy ..."

Then it's my turn to moan, "that's what I'm talkin' about baby!" She let's out a contented sigh and whispers "you're an animal Fat Man and I don't mean a pig ..."

*Pool Time*

There is too much mini-bar debris scattered on the bed for me to lie beside Nora, so I retreat to the couch, grabbing one of the pillows from the bed on my way. Though exhausted from my performance, Nora steps out of bed and accumulates some of the uneaten debris and sits on the floor beside the couch in order to feed me ... chips, M&M's, more candy bars, you name it.

When I finish the first load, she starts to make a second trip back to bed to grab more goodies, but I pull her down on top of me so that she comes to rest on my big belly. "I could get used to this," she says, "you make a nice soft pillow to lie on!" "But will you still like it," I ask, "after you put me on a diet and I lose all this fat?"

"Remember Fat Boy," she chides me, "I never said you had to lose ALL of it, maybe just some of it ... after all, I have grown quite fond of all your rolls and folds!"

"Did you ever think you'd be married to someone so fat?," I ask. "Of course not," she responded, pinching a big handful of fat roll for emphasis, "but I think we had a marriage vow, something like 'for better or for worse, fatter or really really fatter,' didn't we?" "And I suppose I'm now at the 'really really fatter' stage?," I chuckle. "No," she responds, "just garden variety 'fatter' ... 'really really fatter' would require you to be at least 400 pounds, maybe even 500." "That's a relief," I sigh, but her response suprises me a bit -- "so now you know you can gain another 180 pounds or so and I'm contractually obligated to help you get there!"

It had been a bit cloudy when we arrived, but Nora glances out the window and notices the sun has come out. Shifting gears, she says "let's get out to pool and enjoy the sun while we can ... I'm gonna put on my sexy new bikini! Get your trunks on too Fatty ... that is if they'll fit!"

"Ha ha" I respond and extend my arms so she can help pull my bulk off the couch. She goes to her suit case and I to mine to retrieve our swimwear. I'm a little intrigued because I haven't seen Nora in a bikini in years, but as she locates in her suitcase and starts putting it on, I'm totally wowed by how she looks in it ... she definitely doesn't look like a woman in her late 40's!

In fact, I'm so intrigued that I stop plowing through my suitcase and just watch my wife. She scolds me for being so slow and saunters over to my suitcase to locate my swimwear options, pulling out three suits, a 3X, a 4X, and a 5X, leaving the emergency reserve 6X in the bag for the time being.

She sizes me up, apparently trying to decide whether the 4X will work or if the 5X will be needed. But she surpises and says "let's see if the 3XL will fit you." I know it won't, she knows it won't, but it's no doubt for the show, so she can demonstrate to me just how fat I've become!

"Go ahead Fatty, try it on, let's see if it will fit over that blubbery apron!" I reach for the 3X and stick one foot in, then the other, and pull it up and ... she had guessed it ... there is way too much apron blubber and not enough elastic! I manage to get it tugged up underneath my apron, leaving the entirety of my bottom roll hanging out and she says "that looks perfect, I think just put a t-shirt on over it and you'll be the sexiest guy at the pool!"

"I don't think so," I reply, and start trying to get the suit back down over my hips. But it's so tight, I finally ask for Nora's help and as I hold my belly up, she grasps the suit tightly and begins inching it down my hips and thighs, giggling like a school girl with each tug.

When it finally drops to my ankles, I tell Nora to hand me the 4X. Even it turns out to be a little tight, but there is enough fabric and elastic for it to fit over my apron and provide a moderate amount of belly coverage. She takes a step back to take in the sight and laughs at how tight it is on me, but finally says "I think that may work for a day or two then you can break in the 5X."

"Can I at least try on the 5X?," I plead, and Nora hands it to me, muttering under her breath, "can't believe you've gone from a 2X to a 5X in a year!" "What's that dear?," I ask and she responds "nothing ..."

The 4X comes off easier than the 3X and the 5X goes on much easier and even gives me a little extra room, enough that I don't have to worry about the seams splitting when I sit down, which seemed like a definite risk with the 4X! 

Finally suited up and ready to go, Nora barks "let's roll, Fat Boy, we're wasting good sun time!" We head out the door and toward the elevator and run into another couple, not the Russian cutie and her English boyfriend as I might have hoped, but two guys, one painfully skinny but vaguely muscular at the same time and the other a kind of doughy guy who might have been me twenty years ago.

The elevator is running slow and the four of us strike up a conversation, discovering that the two guys are from Miami, up for a couple of days to enjoy the resort life. And that they had recently married, after the Supreme Court's gay marriage decision and all. As the elevator arrives, Nora and the skinny one are discussing the benefits of the adults-only no cell phone pool and everyone agrees that we want to find chaisses at that pool, to avoid all the noise from the young children at the resort. As we hit the ground floor, Nora suggests that she and the skinny guy rush ahead to the pool to stake out prime chaisses, and that the two fatties can come along at our own pace. Doughboy and I look at each other and shake our heads in agreement.

As we lumber along at our own pace, Doughboy (Fred is his actual name) asks how long Nora and I have been married. I answer, "about 20 years," and he says, "that's great, you seem happy together." I say "yeah, we're pretty happy and she keeps me pretty well fed, as you can see!"

"I did notice," Fred says, "and I know all about it, you see I've gained 20 pounds myself since I married Jack six months ago ... he's always preparing big meals and desserts and taking me out for extravagant dinners ... I'm at 190 already and gaining more each week."

"Lightweight!," I respond, "I weighed that when I got married and now I'm at 328!" I couldn't believe that I was bragging about being 328 pounds, but my weight gain has obviously had an effect on my psyche. "328," Fred said in seeming admiration, "and your wife doesn't mind?" "She actually has been encouraging me lately ... I don't completely get it, but I've definitely been enjoying it." Fred sighs and says, "I hope she doesn't trade notes with Jack ... I'd like to stay under 200 pounds at least until I hit 30 ..." I pat him on the back and say "if Nora talks to Jack, you better go out right away and buy a bigger wardrobe ... you're gonna need it!"

We finally make it to the pool, a good five minutes behind Nora and Jack, but find that they have procured prime spots by the pool underneath umbrellas and have already ordered a late lunch for us. As I take off my t-shirt, revealing the vast expanse of my real estate, I look down a few places and see the Russian-English couple and she waves, then puffs out her cheeks and puts her arms out to her sides to mock how fat I am (and no doubt indicate how fat she would like her boyfriend to be!). 

As she does so, I can't help but fantasize about what it would be like for her tiny little body to be on top of mine, riding me for all I'm worth, and teasing me in her broken English about what a "fatty pig" I am. And I think to myself "this is gonna be a great vacation ..."


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## Fiji (Oct 18, 2015)

*The Motion Carries*

Fred and Jack have the chaisses to the left of Nora and I and soon our late lunch arrives. It turns out that Jack and Nora have ordered about three times more for Fred and I as they did for themselves.

Surprisingly for such a lightweight, Fred seems to keep up with me bite-for-bite through the first two-thirds of the meal, but finally he begins to flag and Jack and Nora taunt him for that. That is too much for the skinny older couple on our right and they leave in a huff, apparently not used to seeing two fat men eat!

That gives cutie Luidmilla and her English beau a chance to make their move, as they scoop up their possessions and move to the just-vacated chaisses next to us. "Hello fatty pig!," she says cheerily to me, and asks "you are liking your big fattening lunch?" I take another bite and shake my head yes, causing a big smile to come to her face and a look of dread to come to her boyfriend's face, as he is no doubt contemplating his future at a hundred or more pounds heavier than his current weight!

Nora seems quite amused as Luidmilla says to her "I hope you mind not us sitting here, I just love to glimpse a fatty pig eating, do you not also?" "It's fine," Nora responds, and adds, "besides you can get some pointers on fattening up your man." "Charles," the Englishman says, "and I'm not really trying to gain." Luidmilla looks offended, and says to him "of course you are!"

Fred looks over at Charles and says, "don't worry, I'm not trying to gain either!," then wipes some mayo from his lips and lets out a big burp, causing all of us to laugh.

Nora breaks the ice further, grabbing a big roll of my fat, and telling us all, "let's face it, we have one enormous fat man and two wannabees here, and the other three of us are here to help you get fatter!" Then she looks at Luidmilla and says "would you believe that Fatty Pig here only weighed 165 pounds when we met?"

Luidmilla laughs and says, "same for Charles, he was only little pig then, now he's a fat pig, and soon a fatty pig like your husband." I extend my hand to her and introduce myself as Bill. She just flashes a bright smile and says "no -- you Fatty Pig!," bringing a bigger round of group laughter, including me.

Jack adds, "that's funny, 165 was how much Fred weighed when we met too." Fred rolls his eyes and asks his husband, "and I guess you want me to weigh 328 just like Jim here," then looked at me and apologized, "I didn't mean to share that Jim, I just get so frustrated with Jack sometimes when he talks about my weight ..."

"Don't worry about it," I tell him, "you should try living with Nora, encouraging me to eat all the time, then telling me I'm gonna have to go on a diet when we get home."

"Nyet" squeals Luidmilla, "Fatty Pig no lose weight, too sexy!"

Nora starts laughing incontrollably and, finally gaining her composure, says "let's face it, Luidmilla, Jack, and I are gonna make sure you three pigs gain plenty of weight while you're here and what happens when you get home is your business!"

She turns to her left and Jack says "agreed," then turns to her right and Luidmilla responds in her thick Russian accent, "agree, three fatty pigs!" In her Chairman of the Board voice (which Nora actually is at her company), my wife says, "its unanimous then, our three fatty pigs are going to get fatter still while we're here." Then she adds, "any other motions from the floor?" 

"Yes, I have one," Jack says with a sly smile on his face. "I move we make it into a competition to see which fatty pig gains the most." Looking over to a smiling Luidmilla, Nora says "seeing no opposition, the motion carries," then adds, "if it's a competion then we should adjourn to the healthclub and get these three pigs on the scale!" "Second," squeals Jack and Nora orders the meeting of the feeders into adjournment. Luidmilla jumps up and down in her seat, clapping her hands, squealing "piggies get fatter, piggies get fatter!"


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## fatlilboy (Oct 19, 2015)

....and double that chin!


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## Fiji (Oct 30, 2015)

*The Initial Weigh-in*

The six of us lounged by the pool until around 5:30, with the "Three Pigs" as Nora took to calling us consuming an endless array of beverages and snacks. We kept the poor pool boy busy fetching us snacks, but Nora rewarded him with some very handsome tips, to keep him "motivated."

As we got ready to head in, Jack agreed to make a reconnaissance of the Health Club to see if the coast was clear for the Three Pigs to have their weigh-in with at least a little privacy.

Ten minutes later Jack was back and excitedly announced "it's time to weigh our Pigs!" Fred and Charles and I all looked at each other with dread, then proceeded out of our seats. The only hitch was that since I'm the heaviest of the three by at least a hundred pounds, I have trouble extracting myself from my chaisse. The three skinnies are having great fun over my predicament and finally my two fat breathren grab my arms and help me up. "Thanks brothers," I say with gratitude and Charles in his English accent responds, "anything for a fellow Fattie!"

Nora insists that I keep my shirt off for the walk to the Health Club and the sight of my belly rolls and moobs shaking up and down with each step seems to get everyone's attention, particularly Jack's and Luidmilla's, who seem to have far away looks in their eyes, imagining the day when their partners are as fat as me!

Fortunately, when we step into the Health Club, there is but a lone fitness freak of a man, sprinting on the treadmill, sporting six-pack abs and rippling biceps. Although he looks disdainfully at me, with my sagging belly and moobs jostling up and down with every step, I'm at least relieved it's not a whole roomful of people looking at me that way!

Jack leads our procession over to the scale, a nice shiny and new digital model that he assures me goes up to 400 pounds (how very nice of him to have checked!).

Luidmilla insists that her English fat boy, Charles, be weighed first. I hear her muttering to herself "please let it be 210 pounds, please, please ..."

Charles climbs on and the digital numbers sputter about a bit, finally settling on 213.8. "Goody, goody," squeals Luidmilla, hugging her man and telling him "soon you be Fatty Pig too!"

Next it's Fred's turn and his husband Jack gives him a nice firm slap on the butt as he climbs on the scale. Although Fred is tiny compared to me, the force of the slap on his rump is enough to send ripples throughout his belly fat, causing a loud snicker from Luidmilla and an admiring grin from Nora.

Again the digital numbers dance, and finally settle on 209.6. Although he tells his lover, "looks like you're the lightweight of the group Honey," I can tell that Jack is quite proud of his man and looking forward to my gluttony rubbing off on poor Fred.

Now it's my turn and Luidmilla can barely contain her excitement, chanting, "Fatty Pig, Fatty Pig, Fatty Pig!" I step on and can peer over my belly enough still to see the digital numbers spin until they settle on 330.9! My God, I think, I've gained close to three pounds since just this morning ...

That didn't go unnoticed by Nora, who quietly says to me, but loud enough for our new friends to hear, "two weeks here and you're gonna weigh at least 350 my Fatty Pig!"

That causes a look of utter lust to come over Luidmilla, while Jack pats his hubby's substantially smaller tummy and exclaims, "ALL our Piggies are gonna be a LOT fatter by the time we leave!"

With a sly grin, Nora utters, "hope everyone packed their Piggy some bigger clothes for the return trip!"


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## Subtlefeeder (Oct 31, 2015)

good story....need to turn the tide and pack a few pounds on Nora


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## Fiji (Nov 15, 2015)

*Room Service*

I awake the next morning, my head a bit blurry from the night before, and find Nora on the floor of our suite in front of the television doing yoga. I lay silently for a moment just watching her do stretches and bends, amazed at how lithe and limber she is, simply amazing and simply beautiful. Then I direct my gaze ahead and spy down upon my belly, mounded nice and round before me. Definitely nothing lithe or limber about me -- I'm slow and cumbersome and fat. But amazingly, Nora seems to like me this way, in spite of her telling me that I'm going on a diet when we get home. 

After all, she has been telling me that for a while now, but everytime it's time to start dieting, she provides me with an excuse to put it off for another week or two or a month and encourages me to eat even more, to be a glutton while I still can! It's become such a routine that I imagine when we get home after this trip, me at 350 or 360 pounds, she'll give me another reprieve, perhaps telling me that Halloween is right around the corner and she can't deny me the pleasure of eating all the extra Halloween candy that she will over-purchase. Then Thanksgiving will be right around the corner so useless to go on a diet in November. And, of course, Christmas will be coming in December, so a diet will not make sense that month either. As I lie there thinking, I imagine that I might easily be at 450 pounds by New Year's! Or, if Nora employs any special tactics, maybe even 500!

As I think about it I can feel a massive erection welling up downstairs and I wish that Nora would cut her yoga routine short and come back to bed. Then a knock comes at the door and a loud voice, "Room Service!" Nora jumps up, looks over at me, and says cover yourself up Fatty, while I open the door." I pull the sheet and blanket over me, she opens the door, and an enthusiastic-sounding young man comes in rolling a cart laden with covered dishes. I hear him and Nora chatting in the outer room then am surprised when she has him roll the cart into the bedroom and park it next to our bed. The young man looks a little surprised to see that this woman, decked out in a yoga outfit that accentuates her nice body, is sharing her bed with a fat man. Then he cluelessly asks, "is it just the two of you ... there are four breakfasts here ..." then realizing what he said, his face turns crimson with embarrassment. "That's OK baby," Nora consoles him and hands him a fifty as a tip, "my husband just has a healthy appetite!" He takes another quick glance at me and smiles, then scurries off, thanking Nora profusely for the tip.

I start chuckling as he takes off and once the door slams shut I rip the sheets off myself and invite Nora back into bed. "Wait a sec, Fat Boy," she says and grabs one of the covered dishes to bring with her. Straddling my thighs, she sets the dish down on my belly and lifts off the lid, revealing a stack of pancakes and at least a half dozen slices of bacon. I lick my lips in anticipation and Nora apologizes, "I know this isn't that much baby, but I just wanted to have a little something to tide you over until we go down at 9 for the giant breakfast buffet."

"You're so thoughtful," I tell her, and she takes the knife and fork and starts slicing the pancakes up, which also makes my belly jiggle uncontrollably underneath the metallic plate. "Hold still Fatty," she scolds me and I place a hand on either side of my belly to help keep it steady while she slices. "That's a little better," she says, "but there's still an awful lot of movement down there." "I can't help it," I plead, "after all you insisted that I eat last night." She laughs and says, "you did make an awful big pig of yourself last night at dinner and in front of our new friends." "Yeah," I laugh, "Luidmilla certainly seemed to enjoy my performance." "Yep," Nora agrees, "I think our cute Russian friend would have loved nothing more than to take you back to her room and ride that overstuffed belly of yours!"

"Speaking of that," I interrupt, "I got awfully excited watching you do your yoga and I wouldn't mind YOU riding my overstuffed belly right now." "NOW?, but you haven't had your pancakes yet Big Boy." 

With wide innocent eyes, I ask, "can't I do both at the same time?"


----------



## Fiji (Jan 8, 2016)

*Vacation Progress*

It was a wild two weeks at the resort. My two fellow piggies left after a week, both much fatter than when they had arrived. At the final weigh-in before they left, I was up to a staggering 344.2 pounds, which meant I would almost certainly break the 350 mark before we left in another week.

Luidmilla was quite excited at my 12-pound gain and a bit disappointed that she wouldn't be around to see me break 350. But she perked up a bit when Nora promised to post pics ...

Soon we bid adieu to the others and Nora and I went back to our suite, where she demonstrated just how excited she was at my gain. It was only 3 p.m., but we came in to find the bed turned down and a room service cart parked in front ...

I looked at Nora in awe and she just said, "get yourself comfortable and I'll be out in just a minute," then she stepped into the powder room, pausing momentarily to retrieve a shopping bag from the closet.

She and Luidmilla had disappeared into town the afternoon before and she had been very secretive about their mission. But soon enough I found out, as Nora stepped out of the powder room wearing nothing but thigh high leather boots and carrying a riding crop! And me? I was standing naked beside the room service cart, eating a fistful of French fries ...

"I should have known," snarled Nora, "just stuffing your face ... that's all you've done on this vacation ... eat, eat, eat and get fatter and fatter!" 

I stuff the last of the fries in my mouth and absentmindedly rub my greasy hand on my bottom roll, which sets Nora off more. Seeing the anger in her eyes, I ask, "what are you going to do with thing?" She slams the riding crop down hard on the stainless steel cart and screams "punish you!" "For what?," I ask with pleading eyes (and just a bit of a grin).

"Just eat up Fatso!," was all she said, and swatted the crop down lightly across my ass, sending waves through my belly fat. No longer able to stay in character, she began giggling uncontrollably and brushed the crop lightly up under my belly overhang, generating even more ripples in my loose flesh.

"I wish you could see yourself Tubby, all your fat going this way and that with even the lightest touch!" 

I look deeply into her eyes and ask "so is it time for me to go on that diet you keep telling me about?" She swats me on the ass again and sweetly says "babe, you're long past needing to go on a diet, but not today, not this week," then with her free hand picks up another French fry and feeds it to me.

I reach for her and pull her in tight, kissing her lips, then giving her nipples a gentle little nibble, before moving my fingers downward to tickle her other set of lips, eliciting a nice little moan from my sexy little dominatrix. Then I whisper in her ear, "did you know some of my favorite fantasies involve you and a riding crop?" She moans again as I work my thumb and forefinger inside her, then whispers back in my ear, "did you know some of my favorite fantasies involve you ... "

Before she can finish her thought, she lets go with another moan, only much louder, as I continue my ministrations.

I whisper "what was that you were saying?" 

"... that some of my favorite fantasies involve you being so fat ..."

"How fat?"

"... so ****ing fat that ... (gasp) ... do that again Fat Man!"

*Back Home Again*

Our second week at the resort was a blur of food and sex! And Nora was using that riding crop liberally, telling me that once we got home she was going to use it to whip my *** into shape (which made me laugh since I still had a relatively flat ass, since all my weight was in my belly!). But while we were at the resort, the only state she was whipping me into was a much rounder and softer and subservient one!

We'd start out every morning with the huge buffet in the resort's opulent circular dining room. While most guests seemed to linger about for only a half hour or so before going to the pool or the beach or the spa, Nora and I would hang out for 90 minutes, with her hustling back and forth to bring me more plates of morning goodies. After that, I'd have to go back to the suite and take a nap, so we usually didn't hit the pool until 11 a.m. but not to worry, Nora always went down early in the morning to bribe an attendant to save us a choice pair of chaisses under a big umbrella. And before we left the room, she would call down to have some nice treats waiting for me when we finally got down to the pool. 

Around Noon, we'd venture over to the poolside restaurant for a "light" lunch, usually just a burger and fries for me, two or three Cokes, and a sweet dessert. Of course, Nora usually only had a salad and unsweetened tea, telling me, with a sweet smile, "I don't want to get fat like you, do I?" Which was usually followed by a surrepticiously belly rub under the table with one or both of her feet!

Then the pool attendant would usually deliver snacks, sodas, or mixed drinks throughout the afternoon, right on every hour, which was to be expected because Nora was tipping him extremely well!

We'd usually head back up around 4, at which point Nora would whip out the riding crop and swat me a couple of times on the buttocks and the belly to get both of us excited before a nice romp in the hay, followed by a shower where she would explore the fat I'd added that day while I tickled her lady parts a bit more.

Afterwards I'd plop on the bead and doze off while she got dressed for dinner. Another swat with the crop to wake me up and I'd struggle into my dinner clothes, which was more difficult than it sounds since even the biggest clothes I brought with me were getting a little snug that second week. At the rate of my food and beverage intake, I feared we might have to venture into town to buy some new ones before we returned home, an idea that seemed to drive Nora wild with lust!

Of course, dinner was always huge, and Nora would usually order two or three desserts to top things off, which she ate little or none of, leaving them to me to polish off. Earlier in our stay the wait staff seemed somewhat appalled by how much we ordered, but by the second week they were happy to see us because Nora tipped extremely well, so we'll that they would frequently give us another free dessert or two wrapped up to take back to our room!

Once back in the room, our clothes came off immediately and the riding crop was collected from its storage place and Nora would insert one end into my belly button and use it to shake my belly blubber up and down, before delivering a swat or two to encourage me to eat my dessert or clean out the mini-bar, or both. Then around 10 p.m., Nora would call room service and order a cart to be brought up with even more food! I'd stay under the covers, while she put on a robe to let the room service guy in the door, hand him a $50 tip, then shoo him away. That delivery would usually take me an hour or more to finish off, as stuffed as I usually was already, and Nora would frequently have to deliver a few more light swats to get me to finish.

Needless to say, the impact of the second week's nonstop feasting on my waistline was tremendous. On our last evening there, Nora snuck me into the exercise facility when no one else was there and had me step naked onto the scale, which registered an incredible 365.4 pounds, an incredible 21 pound gain in just one week! 

When it came time to leave the next morning, none of the clothes I had brought with me fit anymore, but Nora surprised me with a new pair of elastic waist shorts in a 60-inch waist and a 5X Havana shirt, which she had sent one of the resort staff into town to buy for me. Embarrassingly, we ran into that staffer on our way out and she said, most solicitously, "they fit you perfectly and you look so good in them!" Nora laughed at the remark and exclaimed, "yeah, like Santa Claus on vacation!"

The flight back was uncomfortable, even though we had seats in first class, as with my newfound weight I discovered I needed a seatbelt extender for the first time (always embarrassing to ask the flight attendant for). But it improved after the flight attendant started bringing me a supply of snacks and mixed drinks and as Nora gave me surrepticious belly rubs throughout the flight.

Finally back home, I tell Nora, "babe, I really should go on a diet now that we're back -- I probably don't have any suits that will fit me and I've got a big meeting at work on Monday. "Not to fear Tubby," she told me, "I called your tailor early last week and told him to start working a couple of suits up for you a couple of sizes larger than the last ones he made, and promised we'd pay him extra if they are ready by tomorrow. He's coming by at 11 a.m. for you to try them on, then he'll make the final alterations and have them ready by the end of the day."

"Wow," was all I could say, at the forethought that Nora had exhibited. I guess that was why she was such a successful business executive herself.

Looking quite satisfied with herself, Nora said "now that we've got that taken care of Fat Boy, I have something else in mind for you ..."

I smiled and asked, "does it involve that riding crop?" She shook her head yes and I immediately started ripping her sundress off of her lithe little body ...

*Back To Work Bulge*

That weekend Nora showed absolutely no signs of putting me on the forced diet she had threatened me with so many times over the past few months. Granted, I didn't eat as much as I had on vacation, but I would have been hard pressed to keep eating that much! 

Nora had obviously communicated with our housekeeper while we were still in Florida, for the cubbard was fully stocked when we arrived home, with donuts, cakes, pies, and cookies purchased just that morning from my favorite bakery. Our housekeeper, who normally had weekends off, even left a note, saying:

Barb at the bakery said to welcome you back -- business has been off since you left! 

Great, I thought, so fat that the bakery owner and my own housekeeper are joking about it! Then my thoughts drifted to the reaction that awaited me at work on Monday, when the CEO and I had a meeting scheduled with our biggest client, a national health club chain, whose CEO was a totally ripped woman of 50, who looked 35, and who during our last meeting had looked me over with seeming disgust, as if I weighed 500 pounds. And I'd only weighed 250 then, so God knows how she'll react -- and how my boss will react, now that I'm over 350!

Fortunately, my tailor showed up that afternoon as promised with two new suits of an "extra portly" cut. As my tailor had previously schooled me, an "athletic" cut suit usually has a six-inch drop between the jacket size and waistline of the suit pants; a regular cut has a four-inch drop; and a "portly" cut only had a two-inch drop as a portly gent's waist was disproportionately larger than the rest of his body. However, my tailor now instructed me that I needed an "extra portly" cut where the jacket size, a 60, was equal to my waistline. Nora, who was aptly watching my fitting, laughed unmercifully at that!

My tailor, Saul is his name, tried the jackets on me first and they fit perfectly, which was amazing since he had made them up without seeing me at my current size. He just made some alteration marks on the sleeves and everything else was good. Nora, of course, asked, "did you leave some room for growth?" "Of course," he responded, "we can probably get an extra three inches in the jacket and six in the slacks ... in case this keeps growing," patting my sagging bottom belly roll. Nora snickered at that and told Saul, "there's no doubt that belly is gonna keep growing ... you should see this boy eat!"

While the suit jackets were cut perfectly, the same wasn't true of the slacks and that seemed to befuddle poor Saul. As I slipped on the first pair, Saul frowned considerably as I fastened them up and they barely fit. Worst of all, my lower belly stretched the fabric tight as a drum, so tight that Nora let out a pig-like snort of amazement.

No doubt seeking to save face, Saul said, "that bottom roll of yours is just so unpredictable ... I had no idea ..." then caught himself before saying anything else. But Nora finished his sentence for him, "no idea he'd gotten so much fatter?" Saul just shook his head no, then started fiddling around with the waistband before saying, "I think we can fix the problem by letting out the waist another three, maybe four, inches so the slacks will fit you looser and make this bulge less noticeable." Nora snickered again, muttering "it'll be hard to make that much blubber less noticeable ..." 

But I told Saul, "do whatever you think will work." He said, "good, that's what we'll do and I'll add some braces buttons as you'll probably need to wear braces (suspenders) so the slacks hang properly." That elicited another comment from Nora, this time positive, "that's great, you look so sexy in braces, maybe a nice bright red pair."

Saul added, "I've got a nice red pair back in the shop and I'll throw 'em in at no charge for one of my best customers." "Thanks," I said, thinking in my mind, it's the least he can do since I'm probably paying him $6,000 for these two suits! 
But then again, I was desperate as I had my big meeting on Monday and had to admit that Saul had come through in the pinch.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, the suits fit perfectly and I chose a charcoal gray herringbone weave model that looked good with the red braces, a navy and red stripe repp tie, and a blue cotton dress shirt, with a 23" neck that Saul had also whipped up for me. Nora told me I looked "devastatingly" handsome and our housekeeper whipped up a massive breakfast for me, telling me "the missus told me that you needed to be well fed for your big meeting" and congratulating me on how good I looked after vacation, "you look so handsome with that tan!"

Properly stuffed, I picked up my briefcase and headed to my car, surprised that I needed to slide the seat back a couple of more inches so that my belly would fit behind the wheel. That made me lament my vacation weight gain all the more, knowing that it would be hard to hide fifty extra pounds from my boss and my ultra-toned customer.

The meeting was at 9 a.m. sharp so I went straight to the CEO's office, where his executive assistant (a big boned lass herself) gave me a big grin and said, "looks like someone really enjoyed his vacation!" "I did, darling," I responded. "Come here Sugar Bear," she beckoned, and she stood up and gave me a hug. "I love your tan," she said, "so sexy ... AND I love this too," patting my belly. "I swear," she said, "if you weren't married to Nora, I'd come down to your office and let you take me on your desk!" I grinned and responded, "if I weren't married, I'd let you let me take you on my desk!" "Don't tempt me," she whispered lustily, "what I'd do to have that big ole' fat belly flopping up and down on me!"

But before I could respond, my customer, Moira Tautinger, appeared in the doorway, and looking plenty disgusted that the CEO's assistant had her arms around my even more fattened form. "Hello," she said curtly, "looks like you've gained even more weight ..." "He looks great doesn't he?," said the boss's assistant, but my customer just said "uh huh," and asked if the CEO was ready for the meeting.

When she ushered us through the door to his office, the CEO looked amazed to see me even fatter than when I left, but said nothing, instead warmly greeting our customer. After exchanging pleasantries with her, he finally asked me, "how was vacation Big Man?" And, playing to our exercise-conscious customer, added, "looks like you could stand to visit one of Moira's health clubs."

Moira finally ventured a smile and said, "it looks like you've gained at least a hundred pounds since our last meeting, that belly of yours is humongous now! But I'll tell you what, you've been such a good supplier over the years, give our local club a call and I'll fix you up with a personal trainer who can work some of that blubber off you." Biting my tongue, I patted my belly and responded, "thanks, I may do that."

The meeting went well after that and we actually got a $5 million order out of it, but my boss handed me a stern warning afterwards. "Tom, you're my chief operating officer and look at you man ... you've always been fat, but lately you've eaten yourself into a f****ing blimp! It doesn't set a good example for our employees and our God knows what our customers are going to think seeing such a Fatso walking around our C-suite!"

I swallowed my pride and apologized, saying "Nora and I have discussed that I need to go on a diet now that we're back from vacation ..." but he cuts me off, and says "you better or you may find that you've eaten yourself out of a job! Now get your *** out of my office ..."

On my way out, his assistant stops me and whispers in my ear, "don't worry," she says, "he's been telling me for years that I'm too fat and he's never fired me." Then she asked, "how about an early lunch Big Man?"


----------



## Fiji (Jan 23, 2016)

*Lunch With Lacey*

The CEO's assistant, lovely Lacey, did her best to buck up my attitude, which was pretty well shot after the scolding from my boss. After I initially declined her lunch invitation, she insisted on treating me (on the boss's tab), and picked up the phone, telling whoever was on the other end, "table for two in the back," then "definitely NOT a booth," before hanging up. 

That last part finally coaxed a little laugh out of me and I thanked Lacey, admitting "I have a bit of trouble with boothes now." She looked at me a bit incredulously and responded, "and you think I don't?" Lacey indeed was quite plump herself, with her greatest asset being her very full rump. She was really quite the pear, with a smallish bust and modest belly, not ordinarily my "type," but I found her voluptuous hips and butt strangely irresistible. And although both of us were happily married, she seemed to know the impact her big butt had on me and usually did her best to flaunt it when we were in the same room!

And it was on full display as she headed out the door of the C-Suite in front of me, wearing a pair of black slacks that particularly accentuated her assets, sashaying suggestively as she went, hips and shoulders swaying like Marilyn Monroe in a 1950's film. It was more than enough to finally lighten my mood.

Once on the ground floor, she led me across the street to my favorite chop house, The Capitol Grille. While a huge lunch was the last thing I needed, my mood lightened again when we came through the door and I caught a whiff of the big flavorful steaks that were the establishment's specialty.

As the hostess showed us to our table in an isolated spot in the back of the restaurant, I looked at Lacey and she looked back at me, each of us knowing this was just what I needed at that moment. As we sat down, Lacey said, "let's take it out on the boss and order whatever we want, how about it Big Man?" "Sounds like a plan, Big Girl," I responded. She laughed and said, "hope they have enough food for the two of us!" 

As our appetizers came, a huge shrimp cocktail for each of us, Lacey asked a surprising question of me, "how come we never hooked up?" As I paused, trying to decide how to answer, she continued, "I mean, you obviously like me, and I really like you ... I mean you are so damned sexy, particularly now that you've gained even more weight ... we could have had so much fun hooking up ..."

Finally I answered, "Lacey, you are the hottest woman in the company, but you're married and so am I." "What's that got to do with it?," she responded, "everybody else in this company seems to be getting it on with one another, so why shouldn't we?"

Before I could answer, she went on "you're the only guy in the C-Suite who makes me feel sexy and sometimes I can just imagine you imagining what you would do to me if we were in the sack. It would be so much fun, you playing with my rolls and me playing with yours, two fatties having fun with one another, no strings attached."

Looking around to make sure no one else was seated within earshot, I leaned over and grasped her hand, telling her, "believe me, I've fantasized about that, pretty much every day when I see you walking around the office, showing off that sensational ass of yours, but I'm happily married and I just can't cheat on Nora, I never have and we've been married a long time ..."

"I'm happily married too," Lacey responded, "but wouldn't a little variety be good sometimes?" 

"I'm so tempted," I said, adding with a laugh, "particularly seeing the way you are taking down those big shrimp -- I thought I was the only one who could do that!"

"But?"

"B ut it's just not who I am," I responded, grasping her hand a little more tightly. "But if I ever did want to fool around, there is no one I would want to fool around with more than you Lacey ..."

Right about then our entrees arrived, a 16-ounce Porterhouse and a loaded baked potato for each of us. Appearing resigned to the fact that we would not dally with one another anytime soon, Lacey grinned at me and said "eat up Fatty," and I grinned back and said "you too Thunder Thighs!"


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## Fiji (Mar 29, 2016)

*The Elevator Ride*

It was nearly 2 p.m. by the time Lacey and I made it out of the restaurant and both of us were moving slowly from all we ate, first the basket of bread, then the appetizers, then another basket of bread, then the big steaks, topped off by a decadent dessert of flourless chocolate cake for each of us.

Being the bigger of the two by at least fifty pounds, I walked a little slower than Lacey, lagging back a couple of paces which allowed me to admire her decadent rear end bouncing up and down with each step she took in those slightly form fitting black slacks and her moderately high heels. She was a sight to behold, hips again swaying naughtily with each step, and I began to noodle in my mind her unexpected lunchtime question of why was it the two of us had never hooked up. Watching those two delicious fleshy orbs of hers rise and fall made me easily imagine how satisfying it would be to tap lusty Lacey doggy style, with my big belly sitting atop that massive rump of hers. 

The thought of it was getting me quite excited, and I next imagined afterwards sharing a big king bed with this beauty, feeding each other fattening snacks and playing with each other's rolls of fat before she climbed atop me for round two. Pushing my belly out of the way and shimmying her wide and welcoming hips atop my erect member, she slowly began to grind, both of us being so heavy that movement was difficult. But we took it slow and steady, like two super heavyweights in the ninth round, exhausted but determined to see it through to the final bell.

I wasn't jolted back into reality until we were back in our building and one of my subordinates tapped me on the shoulder and welcomed me back from vacation. In a moment Lacey and I were on the elevator and amazingly the car was empty. She reached over and affectionately tapped me on the belly, telling me "no wonder you're getting so fat, you should have seen how much you are at lunch!" I blushed a little, then retorted, "you, my dear, seemed to keep up bite-for-bite," and gave her a gentle tap on her enormous behind. "I did," she smiled, "you are a bad influence on me, Fat Man!"

I thought ever so fleetingly that we might embrace, but just at that moment the elevator reached our floor. As we stepped off and entered the C-Suite, she headed toward her station outside the CEO's office and I headed down the hall toward my COO office, but as we parted, I turned my head toward her and she silently mouthed to me, "lunch tomorrow?" I excitedly shook my head in the affirmative, thinking we might just hook up at some point after all.

As I rounded the corner to my office, my venerable assistant Ophelia cheerfully uttered, "it's about time." I retorted, "don't start, it's my first day back," and she responded, "Nora called ... and, oh, your 4 o'clock cancelled, so you have the rest of the afternoon free ... maybe Nora can meet you for an early dinner."

Ophelia ... I just loved that name ... was five years my senior and oh so organized and efficient. And while not beautiful per se, she was well put together, exceedingly trim seemingly with nary an ounce of fat on her body, a striking contrast to the pear-like Lacey, so much so that my mind quickly wandered to what it would be like to have a three-some with Lacey, Ophelia, and me on the oriental rug in my office. That would definitely be worth the rug burn!

But then I thought how would I explain the rug burn to Nora, then I thought how would I explain that to HR, much less the CEO, if anyone were to walk in and find us in flagrante delicto like that! It was only then that it occurred to me that I was continuously horny since I had gained so much weight -- I didn't know what it was but carrying around that big belly was always giving me a hard on!

But at the same time, I was totally exhausted, and I plopped down hard in my desk chair. Part of it was that I had done nothing but relax and eat over the last three weeks and part of it was that I was lugging around at least fifty more pounds than I had the last time I was in the office, plus the after effects of the huge lunch with Lacey didn't help in the least. As I leaned back heavily in my chair and closed my eyelids, I felt I really needed a nap ... and maybe a relaxing belly rub from Nora ... or Lacey ... or Ophelia!

After a couple of moments of shut eye, I picked up the phone and asked Ophelia to grab me a Coke, "not the can, but the big bottle" as I needed some caffeine to stay awake. Then I dialed Nora's office.

I first had to engage in small talk with her assistant, a pleasant enough seeming man of about 35 who was about a half foot taller and 200 pound lighter than me. He asked about our vacation and said that Nora had commented on how good the food was at the resort. I wondered if she had told him how much of it I had consumed and how much weight I had gained. 

As he put me on hold, I wondered if Nora had ever thought about getting it on with him as I sometimes imagined with Lacey, Ophelia, or both. Not that I would blame her, as she might want a change of pace with a tall skinny guy who goes to the gym every day, instead of a short morbidly obese husband who hasn't been to a gym in at least twenty years ...

Finally Nora picked up and apologized that she had been on a call with the CEO of her biggest customer. She asked how my first day back had been and I responded, "awful," launching into an explanation of the negative reaction my weight gain had elicited from my biggest customer and the subsequent trip to the woodshed with my CEO. Finally, I confided to Nora "I've got to take off some weight baby or it may be the end of my career!" Her response was "nonsense!" Then she launched into a tirade that "no reputable CEO is going to fire his COO simply because he has gained a few pounds or even if he gains a few more ... AND if he has the nerve to do that we'll sue his ass and get a huge settlement!"

"I'm glad YOU are so confident," I told her, "because I'm not." All she said was "relax," then added, "besides Halloween is only a month away and you know you're not going to lose any weight while Halloween candy is lurking about the house!" That's when I knew my job really was at risk, as was my waistline ... I'd be over 400 pounds in no time ...

*November the First*

It was November 1, the morning after Halloween, and I literally rolled out of bed, feeling incredibly fat from all the candy that Nora had watched, and helped, me stuff into my belly the night before. As I slowly trudged to the bathroom I was already regretting the obscene amount of calories I had consumed the night before. As well as all the huge lunches I had with Lacey over the past month ...

Lacey ... just the thought of her gave me a rise (but as I explained previously, after my big weight gain, just about anything gave me a rise!). She was such a great lady, but alas I was a married man and she was a married woman and in spite of the chemistry between us two fatties we remained true to our loving spouses (and that's the way it should be).

After taking care of business, I quietly snuck over to the scale, a new one that Nora ordered which went up to 500 pounds, and reluctantly climbed on. Frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to know the results, having no doubt packed on a lot of pounds since just the week before. But on the other hand, part of me was anxious, even excited, to see what my endless gluttony had produced.

As I tiptoed to the scale, I reflected on the last thirty days. When I had arrived home that first night after my return to work, exhausted from the trauma of my CEO's scolding and my biggest customer's disgust, I was surprised to find Nora waiting for me (as she usually worked late). Although it was late September and still warm out, she was wearing a fur coat, which I thought strange. But as I came closer, she opened it up and I found that she was wearing nothing underneath, except for a long strand of pearls I had given her as an anniversary gift years before!

She looked incredible, not incredible for the 50-year old woman she was, but incredible for a woman of any age. And she was beckoning me, oh so sexily, with her finger to come closer. "Come here Fat Boy," she cooed, "I hear you had a rough day at work ... your biggest customer telling you what a Fatty you are ... your evil boss telling you to lose some of that sexy blubber." "It was awful," I said, trying to play it for the maximum sympathy. "Don't worry my sexy Fatty, I'm here to make it all better," Nora whispered, as she began to strip off my suit and dress shirt. I was at full attention by the time she got me down to only my tighty whiteys and over-the-calf socks and she took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom.

"What do you have in mind?," I asked. She smiled with a bit of an evil glint, "well, if everyone is telling my husband he is too fat, I need to see just how much he weighs." I had weighed in at 365 right before leaving the resort four days earlier, so I didn't expect much change, but when I climbed on the scale, was shocked when the number came up -- 376! "Oh my," Nora gasped, "this 400 pound scale isn't going to last you much longer!"

I was thinking just that as I climbed aboard the new 500-pound capacity scale that arrived just last week. And I was just as shocked as I had been a month or so before, when the scale came up reading ... 408 pounds! Then I was startled by something, or rather someone, behind me -- it was Nora who had crept up stealthily. "Oh baby," she squealed with delight, "you broke 400!" Then she added, "do you still want to go on that diet?"

I pondered her question for a second, then said "but you don't see the looks I'm getting at work ... they've never seen any executive, much less the number two guy in the company, as fat as I am!"

As Nora sympathetically squeezed my hanging folds, she cheerfully said, "screw 'em all, you look fantastic, like a prosperous robber baron of commerce should look!" "Thanks honey," I responded, then she added, "besides, there is ONE person there who thinks you shoot the moon." "Yeah, who's that?," I asked. 

"Lacey, that's who," Nora said to my surprise, "she drops me an email every so often to say how great you look and to ask me my secrets to fattening you up so much ... apparently she wants her hubby to gain some weight too!" "She does?" "Yes, and she invited us over for dinner at their house next week ... I forgot to tell you." "Uh ... OK I guess," I responded. "I'll tell her we can do it then," Nora said, before adding, "it will be good to see her again, I really like her and wouldn't mind hiring her at my company ... is she still as fat as she was?"

I shook my head yes, as if I was totally disinterested. Then Nora added, "you know Fat Boy, you never answered my question, do you want to go on that diet now?" I just shrugged my shoulders and she giggled and said, "just what I thought ... the idea of losing weight is a lot better than the reality of it for you ... besides Thanksgiving is in about three weeks and Christmas about four weeks later ... by that time you just might be at a quarter ton, whatdayathink Fatty?"

I just gulped .. then my sexy wife led me by the hand back to bed.


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## fat hiker (Mar 29, 2016)

This story just goes from strength to strength! I don't always like the first person narrative style, but yours is quite good, if a little breathless at times....


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## Fiji (Mar 30, 2016)

*Holiday Binges, Part One*

Thanksgiving came and went and Christmas came and went and it was New Year's Eve and I was buck naked at 11:59pm awaiting my end of year weigh-in. I was at 408 pounds on the day after Halloween but that was but a distant memory. An obscene amount of food had gone into my gullet in the two months since with even the people who were used to my feats of gluttony -- my wife and primary feeder Nora, my plump work friend and secondary feeder Lacey, my assistant Ophelia who was constantly bringing me snacks -- all being amazed at just how much more I could consume with just a little bit of extra encouragement. Others, who just didn't understand, were totally appalled, however.

Take Thanksgiving, for instance. Against my better judgement, we invited my brother Tim, who lived on the West Coast and hadn't visited in a couple of years. Not exactly skinny himself, at my height of 5'9" and about 225 pounds, Tim was totally taken aback at seeing my condition. I had maybe outweighed him by 25 pounds the last time we'd seen each other, but in the weeks since Halloween I'd been packing on ten pounds or more a week so that the day before Tim arrived I checked in at 445 pounds!

First, there had been all the extra Halloween candy that Nora had bought -- five times what she normally bought -- which needed to be finished off. Then there was that dinner at Lacey's house, what a crazy night that was ...

Lacey had told me that she wished her hubs would gain some more weight like I had, but I still wasn't prepared for what I saw when we arrived. I'd met her hubby Lou a couple of times in the past and had remembered him as an average-sized guy, about my height and maybe 180 pounds. But what I saw that night was a man, of course not as big as me, but at least 300 pounds maybe 325. He now wasn't too far behind his sexy wife!

"Quite a change, huh?," Lacey asked us as we walked in their front door. Before either of us could answer, Lacey patted Lou on the belly and said, "yeah, I got tired of being the heavyweight in the family!" Then she grabbed Nora's hand and said "and thanks for all your tips, they've worked great!" I looked at Nora inquisitively and she whispered, "I'll explain later ..."

Lacey escorted Lou and me to a sturdy couch and has us sit down, our combined weight of over 700 pounds no doubt testing the strength of the sofa's springs. "Now you two big guys take a load off and I'll bring you some nice appetizers to tide you over until dinner is ready." Lou and I eyed each other suspiciously and engaged in a little small talk, but not for long, as Lacey soon emerged from the kitchen wheeling a tea caddy overloaded with treats and parked it in front of us.

"Here boys, I've got a big party platter of shrimp cocktail for each of you! And some mini-crabcakes ... and some chips and dip ... hope it's enough! Dig in and I'll call you when dinner is ready ..."

And she was off again, Nora in tow and trying to conceal her glee that their two fat men were going to consume all those apps.

There must have been two pounds of shrimp on each platter and five mini-crabcakes apiece, but true to form I dug in with gusto, as did Lou. Lou didn't seem to be quite as much the pro at eating as me, but he still demonstrated quite the prodigous appetite. I polished off my shrimp and crabcakes in about 35 minutes, while it took him about 45, and we nibbled on the chips and dip until around the one hour mark when Nora stuck her head through the door to tell us dinner was served.

It was a delicious rump roast, quite appropriate since Lacey's derriere resembled two plump rump roasts pushed together, plus endless mashed potatoes, lots of bread and butter, and no green vegetables! While Nora nibbled politely, the other three of us dug in, with Lacey having thirds, and Lou and I fourths of everything. We were definitely three stuffed piggies by the end, so much so that Nora ended up clearing the table while the three pigs retreated to the den, Lou and I undoing our pants and Lacey stripping off her panty hose to get some relief for our poor aching bellies!

Before we knew it, Nora re-emerged wheeling that tea caddy again, brimming with a coconut cake, a chocolate cream pie, and a gallon of vanilla ice cream with hot chocolate fudge sauce at the ready. All three of us protested, but Nora loaded up a bowl of ice cream, poured on the fudge sauce, and sitting next to Lacey on a loveseat started spooning the concoction into her mouth. It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen, Lacey greedily lapping up the dessert.

"Do me now!," I begged, and Nora stood up and took a big carving knife to the cake, slicing off a quarter and loading it on a plate. But instead of handing it to me, she handed it to Lou. Then she returned and sliced off another quarter, but again not for me, but for Lacey. Then she returned and picked up the serving plate, handing me the remaining half of the cake and saying in a most authoritative tone of voice, "I expect you to eat ALL of this, do you understand Fat Boy?" I obediently shook my head yes and she added, "such a good submissive piggy!" 

Then she went back into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a cup of coffee, and re-assumed her spot next to Lacey, contentedly watching us three piggies eat our cake. As she watched, she undid a couple of buttons on her blouse and commented, "it's awfully hot in here don't you think?" Lacey, her mouth full of cake, shook her head yes, and Nora leaned over and undid a couple of buttons on Lacey's blouse before letting her hand linger down to Lacey's tummy ... Lou and I glanced at each other and Nora said, "nothing to see here boys, just go back to eating!"

Soon Nora and Lacey were making out on the loveseat and Lou, having finished his quarter of the cake, got up and cut a piece of the pie, and attempted to sqeeze himself onto the loveseat on Lacey's other side. Unable to fit, he preferred the slice of pie to Lacey, who pushed Nora away for sake of more dessert. Looking disappointed, Nora looked over at me, pathetically still working on my half of the cake, arose from the loveseat and picked up the remains of the pie and a single fork.

Kneeling in front of me, my eyes riveted on her open blouse and the cleavage created by her expensive push-up bra, Nora began feeding me bite after bite of chocolate and custard goodness. "That's a good piggy" she cooed after every bite, "getting fatter and fatter for me."

Once about half of the pie was gone, Nora looked back over her shoulder at the plump husband and wife making out like two horny teenagers, and said, "Lacey dear, would you mind if we borrow one of your bedrooms?"

"Top of the stairs on your left," Lacey yelled back.

"Thanks," said Nora, "oh and do you mind if we take the rest of the ice cream with us?"


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## Fiji (Mar 30, 2016)

*Holiday Binges, Part Two*

I'm totally gassed by the time I make it halfway up the stairs, which greatly amuses Nora. She passes me by a couple of steps, turns around, reaches back as if to grab my hand and says "come on Fatty, you can make it!" I plead with her, "just go on up and I'll meet you in a couple of minutes ... after I catch my breath ..."

"And to think you used to be a runner when we met ..."

"Just go on!," I say again.

"Nope," she responds, "we're going together." Then she plays dirty by waving the gallon of ice cream in my face and asking, "will this give you enough encouragement?"

"Maybe," I respond sheepishly.

Then she plays dirty again, stripping off all her clothes and letting them drop onto the steps and leaning into me so that her pert little breasts are right in my face.

"Let me ask you again," she says, "does Fatty want to come out and play with his sexy wife?"

"Maybe," I say again ...

"And polish off this gallon of ice cream?"

"That's more like it" I respond with a grin and let her help pull me up to the next step with her free hand while her other one grasps the ice cream carton. Slowly we climb each step and in a couple of minutes I'm completely gassed again but at the top of the stairs with only about twenty steps to go to the guest bedroom.

Nora lets go of my hand and rushes off to fling open the guest bedroom door and prepare the way for her fat prince. By the time I trudge to the open doorway she has pulled down the cover and top sheet and is beckoning me to come join her. And I see she is holding a riding crop, perhaps something Lacey had conveniently left in the room for her!

She slowly drums the leather tip of the riding crop into her open hand, making an oddly sexy sound, then pivots around so that her tight little ass is facing me and daintily slaps the tip against one cheek. Not too hard but enough to leave a little pink welt on her buttock. 

I'm feeling an awfully taut erection under my belly apron by then and step a little more lively, but not lively enough for my queen. "God, you're slow," she bellows, and rushes over, little titties bouncing up and down as she does, and gently taps my touchey with the crop to speed up my progress.

As I reach the bed, she gives me another little swat, this time on my apron, leaving just a hint of a mark. "That's my mark, Fat Man ... means your mine and no one else's, get it?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"I know you think Lacey is hot and I don't blame you ... so do I!"

I gulp at what may come next, but it's just a gentle admonition that I better not stray with the sexy pear-shaped executive assistant.

"Understood," I respond.

"Good then," Nora says, "and now I have something else that will mark you as my Fat Man and no one else's."

"What's that?," I ask, wondering what it could possibly be. "Here's what," she says in a very seductive tone of voice, and reaches under the bed to retrieve a bag ... and I can't tell for sure, but it looks like it is from the local riding shop ... probably where the riding crop came from ...

As she opens the bag and pulls out its contents, it looks like some sort of leather collar ... no, it's a harness of some type. WTF?

"What is that?," I ask a bit incredulously.

"Well ..." she starts to explain, "I've gotten hooked on gay porn ... you know that's the only place you can consistently find fat man porn ... and I saw these videos of a really fat man, probably about your size, wearing one of these and his chaser standing behind him and wobbling the fatty's belly up and down for the camera. I thought it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen so I took a picture to the saddle shop and they made one up for me ... or rather for YOU my sexy Fatty ..."

"Here Big Boy, let me put it on you and see how it fits." So I bend my head down and lift up my arms to let her slide it on me, then she steps around to my sides and then around back to get the parts all fastened together. I'm a little surprised because it's pretty comfortable once I'm all fastened in. Then Nora has me step over to a mirror to see myself in the contraption and I have to admit I look pretty hot, particularly with my big floppy moobs all but covering the bottom straps.

"Perfect," she exclaims and grabs one of the leather straps and leads me to the bed, stopping a couple of feet from the edge. After a little making out, moob play, and lifting and dropping of belly, she turns me around so that my back is facing the bed. A little more foreplay ensues, with me nibbling at her hard nipples, at which point she asks me to hold my apron up with both hands so that she can explore what lies beneath, first with her hands and then with her mouth. 

By this time my erection is even more intense, as if that was even possible, and to speed things along I make the mistake of mentioning that my legs are tired from holding up over 400 pounds. My sweet Nora looks at me and mutters, "poor fat baby," then gets an evil glint in her eyes. Before I know it, she takes a good step or two back, raises her arms and hands into a ramming position, and slams into my chest full force, sending me careening backwards onto the poor defenseless bed, which immediately greets the force of my backside with a loud 'CRACK!.'

It was a real shame as it looked to be a very nice four poster antique bed, but now we refer to it in the past tense as those nice old 18th Century walnut boards stood no chance against 400 + pounds of me. They are mostly splinters now, used by our host and hostess as kindling to start fires in their family room fireplace.

Nora's face initially went ashen with her knowledge that she had wantonly murdered a priceless antique bed that had no doubt been in Lou's or Lacey's families for generations. But within seconds she became doubled over in laughter, seeing the priceless old bed in splinters, mattress and box spring resting directly on the floor, and my big belly still wobbling back and forth and to and fro from the sheer force of the blast. 

Making it worse, Lacey and Lou came rushing in to see what had happened, and both completely naked (finally giving me the chance to see what Lacey looked like in the buff and, let me say, she looked magnificent).

I expected anger at the death of the bed, but Lacey laughed the most, telling us as she patted Lou's now substantial belly, "WE wanted to break that old bed but Fatso here beat us to it!" That got Lou laughing too, that is until he spied the still uneaten gallon of ice cream sitting on the night stand, just melting away.

"Lou baby," Lacey cooed at him sweetly, "why don't you go downstairs and get two more spoons?" "I like your thinking Lace," Nora says most seductively, "I think I've got three fat piggies to feed!"


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## Fiji (Mar 30, 2016)

*Holiday Binges, Part Three*

Lou turns to go downstairs for the extra spoons but quickly spins back around and asks, "what is that thing you're wearing?" Before I answer, Lacey cuts him off and says, "it's a plaything that Nora bought for him," then adds, "if you want one Fat Boy, you gotta gain another hundred pounds like Tubby here!" Lou smiles at that thought and hustles off for the spoons.

As he does, Nora digs the one spoon deep into the melting ice cream and lifts its contents not to my mouth but to Lacey's! Lacey laps it down and cries out, "more!" Nora obliges, then takes the bottle of chocolate sauce and motions Lacey to tilt her head back and open wide, pouring in a liberal portion, followed by another heaping bite of ice cream.

I reach underneath my apron and moan "that's so hot," causing both girls to pause their routine and come join me on the mattress. Nora commands me to hold my belly up so she can stroke my balls, while Lacey feeds me a big heaping spoonful of ice cream, followed by a chocolate sauce chaser. Just then Lou makes it back into the guestroom with the spoons, panting furiously from the exertion of going down the stairs and back up again.

"Come join us," Nora beckons Lou, and he stumbles onto the mattress next to us. It's all pretty crowded on just a little queen-sized model as my fat is touching Lacey's fat which is touching Lou's fat, and all that fat is really turning Nora on, even more than ever! With one hand still clutching my balls, she climbs atop Lacey and starts kissing her, while using her other hand to grope Lou's belly rolls. Finally letting go of me, then Lou, her hands shift to each of Lacey's little breasts, then she leans over and locks lips with Lou and rolls on top of him, while I roll on my side and start toying between Lacey's massive thighs.

Soon Lacey and I lock lips and she mounts me with her deliciously wide hips and starts rocking slowly back and forth, grasping my new harness firmly so as to push herself deeper into my cock. Simulataneously, Nora mounts Lou and goes furiously at him, and we find out that Lou is a bit of a screamer. With Lou and I maybe a foot apart now, the big girl and the small girl start rocking in unison on top of us, pausing occasionally to fondle each other's breasts or give each other a brisk kiss. As they kiss, I reach over and fondle one of Nora's breasts with my left hand, using my other hand to fondle one of Lacey's. Lou picks up on my lead and does the same, with the simulataneous stimulation by three partners at the same time driving the girls to new heights of ecstacy.

The added stimulation causes Nora to rock Lou even harder, while Lacey, near exhaustion, slows down, requiring me to pick up the pace at my end. I reach both hands around her ample rump and command her to pull harder on my reins. It's difficult with over 400 pounds of me and 350 pounds of Lacey, but I manage to make one heroic thrust after another and finally bring my big sexy lover to climax as well as myself. As Lacey collapses on top of me, totally bereft of energy, the far more athletic Nora continues to ride Lou without mercy, screaming at him, "cum for me Fatty ... you can do it!" 

And Lou continues his screaming too, "oh that's it, keep it up, do me, do me!" It's actually a little embarrassing, but it seems to reinvigorate Lacey, who still on top of me, rises up and leans over to kiss her husband. Finally, the combined efforts of the two women bring him to climax, but not with the expected shout, maybe more of a satisfied whimper!

All four of us now completely spent, we lie together on the cramped little queen bed, Lacey in the space between Lou and me, her ass resting against my belly and her legs draped over Lou, while Nora changed sides and is wedged in the small space between me and the side of the mattress. It's all very cozy ... until Lacey says, "you know, I've got another gallon of ice cream downstairs" and Nora says, "I'll go fetch it for my three piggies!"


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## Fiji (Apr 10, 2016)

*Holiday Binges, Part Four *

Getting back to my story, a couple of weeks after the amazing night at Lacey's house, it's Thanksgiving and my brother Tim and his plump wife Dahlia roll into town and I know I'm gonna get grief from the guy the whole time they are here. 

You see, Tim is my older brother by a couple of years, but he doesn't make nearly as much as me, he has a much smaller home, not nearly as nice a car, and Dahlia, even though I love her dearly and find her quite attractive in her own way, is not nearly as hot as Nora. Oh, and I weigh 220 more pounds than Tim and yet my wife still finds me incredibly hot, which is probably making Tim steam even more! He probably thinks it isn't fair, since he had better grades, was the better athlete, went to the better college, yada, yada, yada ...

And since he hadn't topped me in anything else over the past twenty years, I just knew that he was going to ride me about my weight. It started the moment he walked through the front door and saw how much I had gained since the last time we'd seen each other, a couple of Thanksgivings ago at his house.

"My God, little brother, you're huge! HUGE! I bet you weigh more than Dahlia and I put together!"

He was probably right on that point, since he and Dahlia each appeared to be around a deuce and a quarter, while as I mentioned previously, I'd weighed in at an astounding 445 just the day before.

"Don't be rude," Dahlia scolded Tim, "besides he looks good with a little extra weight!" That's why I loved Dahlia, she was just so nice, way too nice to be married to my brother.

Nora had come to the entry hall by then and reached her arms around me from the back and said "he is still a sexy beast isn't he? ... even with 200 more pounds than the last time you saw him." Dahlia giggled, but Tim exploded, "200 pounds? No wonder you look so ginormous!"

Then he added, "Nora, I hope there is enough Thanksgiving dinner left for the rest of us once Fatty here gets through!" Nora just smiled and said "don't worry Tim, there will be plenty to go around ..."


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## Fiji (Apr 10, 2016)

*Holiday Binges, Part Five*

Sensing the need to get my brother out of my presence, Nora suggested, "Tim, you remember where the guest suite is, right? Why don't you carry your bags up then we can have some drinks and appetizers when you get back down. And I'll ask your lovely bride to help me in the kitchen ..."

"OK," he said and I mouthed a silent "thank you" to my wife, which Dahlia caught too and she shot me a knowing grin. I wrapped my arm around Dahlia's shoulder and started walking with her toward the kitchen and when Tim was out of earshot, she whispered "don't mind him," and I told her, in an exasperated tone, "I'm trying!"

Then, making sure Nora was out of earshot, she whispered again, "you REALLY do look great and I'm kinda hoping Tim will put on a few pounds once he retires in a few months." 

"Really?," I asked her, then continued, "well Nora is just the person to talk to if you'd like some pointers on encouraging old Timmy to gain. After all," I laughed, "she's done wonders with me!" 

Dahlia got a cautious look in her eyes, then asked "if it's not too nosy of me ... uhm ... er ... " Sensing what she wanted to ask, but was too embarrassed to, I told her, "I weigh 445 pounds as of yesterday." Her eyes widened to the size of saucers and she exclaimed with a bit of incredulity "wow, Tim only weighs 223." "That means he has room to grow, just like I did." This time, Nora heard us and she loudly corrected me, "you're not done yet, Mister!"

Dahlia's eyes widened even more, as if I thought that was even possible, and she asked "you want him to gain even more?" Nora got that trademark evil glint in her eyes and told her sister-in-law in a most lewd tone of voice, "Dahlia baby, this Fatty doesn't know it yet, but my plan is for that belly to touch his knees by this time next year!" I gulped a little at that news and felt a definite stirring downstairs, thinking to myself that it was a real shame that Tim and Dahlia were there or I'd bend Nora over the kitchen island and take her from behind right there!

But Nora's attention quickly turned to the business at hand and she asked Dahlia, "so you want to secretly beginning fattening up old Tim?" Dahlia excitedly shook her head in the affirmative and Nora got that evil glint in her eyes again and pulled her co-conspirator close for a consult. I even thought I heard her whisper, "I'll make sure to insist that he take thirds and fourths of everything ..." That made me smile, imagining the two women starting my brother on his way to extreme obesity ... I know it sounds awful, I still love the guy, but sometimes I'd like to see him get a little dose of what he dishes out with regularity!

True to their plan, Nora and Dahlia pushed food on poor Timmy throughout the evening and I swear he at least had four servings of everything and maybe even five or six of the mashed potatoes and stuffing. And when his endurance started flagging, they turned it into a bit of a contest to see who could eat the most. Of course, I could beat him with ease, as much as my stomach had expanded after months of extreme eating, but I took it easy and let him win, just to give him some confidence that he could beat his little brother at something ... anything.

Eventually old Timmy was just too stuffed to go on and Dahlia escorted him to the study to rest up for dessert. Sitting down in our easy chairs, I let out a huge belch, which finally brings a smile to Tim's face, and he follows with an even bigger one of his own. Sensing a lighter mood in my brother, I stood up to unbuckle my belt and unfasten my slacks to provide my belly with some relief. He got a big chuckle out of that, then stood up and did the same.

Then he asked me an unexpected question, "Rich, it seems to me like ... I mean ... I guess what I want to ask is ... did Nora want you to pack on all those pounds? I mean she really seems to like you like this ... so fat ... and you two seem really happy about it all ..."

Then he added, "sometimes, like tonight, I get the sense that Dahlia wouldn't mind me getting fatter ... she always seems to be pushing food at me lately ..."

I just smiled at him and said, "brother, if you only knew ..."

About then, Nora and Dahlia walked in, grinning ear-to-ear and wheeling my food cart, piled high with desserts. They parked it in between Tim and I and each took a seat on an arm of the easy chair and began bringing desserts to our mouths. Tim gave me a questioning look and I told him, "just sit back and enjoy the ride big brother ..."


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## fat hiker (Apr 11, 2016)

Great additions! I am really enjoying this story.


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## Fiji (Apr 28, 2016)

*A Month's Gain*

It's now Christmas Eve, about a month removed from that incredible Thanksgiving evening when Timmy and I let our wives stuff us to complete fullness and then some. After re-bonding over that immense feast, Tim and I had spoken a couple of times a week since and he even invited us to their home for Christmas but Nora and I decided to have a special holiday all to ourselves. I literally just got off the phone with Tim to extend my Christmas greetings and was not altogether surprised to hear that my brother had packed on twenty pounds since Thanksgiving ... not as much as me, of course, but pretty impressive for a guy who heretofore had only been a little fat ...

I don't know exactly how much I weigh, but I know I've gained a lot more than Tim's twenty pounds. It's been a pretty hectic time since Thanksgiving, with our new live-in cook trying out new recipes on me seemingly hourly, and my office Christmas party, Nora's office Christmas party, Ophelia's frequent snacks during office hours, and countless invitations to friends' homes for all manner of holiday events. It seems like I haven't gone a waking moment since Thanksgiving without something fattening in my mouth. And I have to say I've loved it, feeling my belly constantly full yet feeling the compulsive need to consume even more. 

Nora made me promise to enjoy the holiday season and not think about pounds, so I haven't weighed myself since the night before Thanksgiving when I had checked in at 445 pounds. I continuously am tempted to step on the scale but am better at resisting that urge than I am at all the food that has been put before during the last month. Still, I am pretty confident that I have broken the quarter ton mark, if not blown completely through it ... but tonight I will find out for sure, as for her Christmas present, Nora has asked merely that I step on the scale and reveal the full extent of my post-Thanksgiving gain. And to maximize the results, she has ordered our cook, Irina, a pretty little Russian emigre, to ply me with treats throughout the day.

While I've been loving it the last month, some bad has come with the good, particularly in the office. Lacey and Ophelia have been doing their best to run interference for me, but with increasingly little success as the CEO looks at me every day with total disgust in his eyes. And it didn't help when the VP of HR, who was in charge of the office holiday party, insisted that I dress up and play Santa. Then to make matters worse, she shot her mouth off to the boss about how hard it was to find a Santa outfit that would fit me! It disgusted him so much that he whispered in my ear at the party, "have some self-respect man and lose weight!" Then he added, pretty ominously, "or else ..."

But right now, I'm not thinking about that as Irina has just handed me a big platter of shrimp cocktail, the really big ones, and there must be two dozen of 'em. And better yet, she patted my belly quite affectionately and said, "this is just your light appetizer, so make sure to leave a little room in there for the next course!" 

All I can do is think about how surprised Nora is going to be when I climb on that scale tonight ...


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## Fiji (Apr 28, 2016)

*The Conclusion ... For Now*

I have been stuffing myself with Irina's creations all afternoon and fear I may have no more room left in my belly for what she has prepared for tonight. I swear that delightful young Russian chef has been a Godsend and she is just so damned cute to boot! Short, curvy, and such a beautiful face ... and that accent ... she's flirtatious as she can be with me but, alas, knows what Nora will do to her if she were to try to touch me. Not that I think she's really interested in a fatty like me ... probably just trying to ingratiate herself ... but that's just fine with me as I just love having her infectious personality around the house!

I look at my iPhone to check the time, since there isn't a watch band big enough to fit around my wrist now, and am surprised to see it is 7 p.m., thinking that Nora should be home by now. After all, we agreed to let Irina take off the evening and all of Christmas Day to spend with her boyfriend, and she should be leaving anytime now.

But almost as soon as I think it, Nora comes bounding through the door with the type of energy I used to have 300 pounds ago, arms loaded with shopping bags. Irina comes in to greet her and Nora exclaims, "good -- I'm glad you haven't left yet as I've gots loads of Christmas gifts for you!"

"Oh, you didn't have to," Irina purrs, eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh yes I did -- you've been so good to us Irina, particularly this one," patting my belly for emphasis. "He's just gotten so much fatter this past month from all your cooking!" Irina giggles at that thought and whispers in Nora's ear, just loud enough for me to overhear, "I've been trying to guess how much he has gained ..."

Nora gives her a hug and whispers back, "we're going to find out tonight and I'll text you the results." "Goody," Irina says, "I hope he breaks 500!" That really seems to excite Nora, who responds, "if he isn't there already, "I'm sure that big feast you prepared will put him over the top," then she looks at me and says, "right Fatty?"

"Right!" I shout and immediately begin feeling an erection stir downstairs and begin to think it's time for Irina to leave the house to Nora and me.

Finally, as Irina bundles out the door with all her packages, I beckon Nora over for an extended hug and kiss. Then I reach behind the couch and pull out one of my gifts for her, in a fancy wrapped box from her favorite naughty lingerie store ... "open it," I say.

"Wait a minute," she says and steps over to the remaining bags she carried in and reaches for one in particular. "This is just for you my sexy Fat Man," and hands me the greatest gift possible, a box of eclairs from my favorite bakery! "Try one, while I open your gift," and I do and it's delicious, almost better than sex with Nora!

She rips off the wrapping paper excitedly, then opens the box ... and finds nothing inside! "I thought it would be perfect for you ... now try it on," I tell her with a sly grin and walk around behind her to unzip her sexy black work dress, making sure to grind my belly into the small of her back as I do so. 

Once unzipped, I find she is wearing my favorite black push up bra of hers, the one that makes her look like a young boy's sexy MILF dream. She moans, "keep working that belly Fat Man ..."

I slip the dress off her shoulders and gently tug it down over her breasts and graceful hips, finally letting gravity do the rest. As it falls away, I discover she is also wearing my favorite black thong ... definitely not work attire for the CEO of a major company, but I imagine her sitting at her desk during the day feeling very powerful in the skimpiness of her near non-existent undies and sexy push up bra ... God, I wish I could have been there to take her on her desk (or rather for her to take me there since there's no way I can be on top anymore!).

Soon the sexy black bra and thong are gone too and she stands there in all her majesty and I say, "if I do say so, I nailed the outfit ... it looks PERFECT on you!" 

"Speaking of perfection," she lears, "you are wearing too many clothes Fatty," and begins unbuttoning my shirt, but not before handing me another eclair. "I see you like my gift too," as she starts undoing my belt, the one she had custom made by a saddle maker, at the same time he fabricated a nice sexy leather dog harness for me. She mutters lowly, "have to put that harness on you later Big Boy ..."

Soon I'm down to my underwear and socks and Nora is admiring and playing with my spectacular moobs and awe-inspiring belly, musing about how much I must weigh after Irina's non-stop cooking of late. "Hon," I ask, "this all started out months ago with you telling me I needed to go on a diet ..."

"Yes," she responds with a hearty laugh, "and we all know how successful you were at that!"

"Well ... if I do break 500 pounds tonight ... well ... maybe it really will be time for me to go on a diet ..."

"NONSENSE!"

&quo t;But I'm really afraid the CEO is going to sack me after the holidays ... and I'm not sure I blame him ... you really can't have a quarter ton COO ..."

"If they do, we have plenty of money and Irina and I can keep you fat and happy for years ..."

"Still, I like my job and would like to keep it ..."

At that, Nora looks at me pleadingly and asks, "but do you have to stop just now?"

"Isn't 500 pounds enough?," I ask, just a little pleadingly myself.

She pauses to think for a second and responds, "tell you what, you turn 55 next month and I think 550 at 55 sounds very appealing, maybe then we can stop ... what do you think Fatty?"


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