# Dieting Effect - By TheOwl  (~BBW, ~MWG)



## TheOwl (May 4, 2008)

_~BBW, ~MWG _- Emma’s dieting has unforeseen implications for her best friend Jo.


*Dieting Effect *
*by the Owl*​

 It all started with my best friend Emma’s diet. Emma had, since I first met her when we were both five and just started school, always been a bit chubby. In the last few years before she went on her diet she had passed the line from being a little chubby into borderline fat. 

It was probably inevitable that it was going to happen, having been doing a degree in catering management. It was not all about cooking but if you were not at least proficient in the art, how could you expect to run a restaurant some day. So Emma had been doing plenty of practising and self assessment on what she produced and it had had the obvious effect on her waistline.

Then there was Nick. I had never liked him, there was something odd about him that I could not quite put my finger on, but I was always civil enough because he was Emma’s boyfriend. They had been going out for two and half years when he finally decided to finish with her. 

Now there was no need for him to be nasty to her when they broke up, but then that was Nick. He launched into a tirade about all the things that were wrong with Emma but particularly about what a “pig” she had turned into. It’s odd, considering the fact that during the time they were going out he had himself started to support a rather large beer belly.

Well, to say Emma did not take it well would be an understatement; it was around a week before she finally stopped crying, I had no idea someone could possibly keep it up for so long. When she was finally back, at least partially, in the land of the living, we had a chat.

She told me things were going to have to change. She needed to lose weight and would I help her. I told her of course I would, but she did not need to. However, she was not going to change her mind I could tell, so I chose to quickly give up, at least for now. 

She opted to increase the trips she made to the gym from her usual two a week up to four or five depending on her work schedule that week. Exercise was never much of a problem for Emma though, as she freely admitted she quite liked her trips to the gym. She did not really ever go hell for leather at it, but during a trip she could quite easily sweat away some unwanted pounds.

The problem was always going to be food; she loved to cook and loved to eat and the idea of rice cakes and other such delicacies did not hold much appeal. But she was adamant she wanted to lose weight and she knew from past experience exercise alone would not do it. 

So I soon noticed that Emma’s tactic was not going to be eating the usual diet foods but to instead just cut back on the amounts that she ate. This would have been fine, but the surplus food that she made at dinner seemed to be finding its way onto my plate. 

How, though, could I say anything, when Emma still looked like she could break down and cry again at any minute. So I just ploughed through the additional food without protest; well, Emma sure is a really good cook and I quite enjoyed the extra grub.

I have never worried about my weight, but maybe that is just because I have had always been thin, without really putting in any effort at all. I played netball for the school team and was quite good, if I do say so myself. But since I left school around three years ago, I gave it up and really wasn't doing any exercise at all apart from my ten minute walk to and from work each day. 

I have just always been blessed with a decent metabolism and make sure I do not overindulge too often. My weight on the occasional time I had checked it since I passed through puberty had been somewhere between one hundred and ten and one hundred and fifteen pounds without fail.

At my work they have a bi-annual physical for all the employees; I had already noticed some of my clothes had gotten a little tight in the six weeks since Emma had started her diet. When we got to the weigh-in, though, and it settled on one hundred and twenty one it still came as a bit of a shock. I was still at the lower end of what is considered ideal for someone who is five foot seven, but I still felt a little disoriented by the new number.

Around the same time Emma was starting to feel a little disillusioned herself, with all the effort she had been putting into losing weight she had only managed to drop five pounds. The thing was, she was not doing one of those fad diets, where you lose a load of weight the first couple of weeks, then get usually get annoyed by the fact you cannot eat anything you like and normally give up and put it all back on. 

She was just exercising a bit more and eating a bit less and it was never going to change to dramatically. I tried to convince her if she wanted to lose weight in the long term she was doing the right thing; she did not seem convinced but she did not have a better idea, so she decided to stick with it for now.

It was about five weeks after I got weighed, when I was getting ready to go out for a few drinks on a Friday night, it became obvious, if it had not already, that I had been continuing to put on weight. I could not get any of my jeans to fasten around my enlarged waist and in the end had to settle for an old skirt I had tucked away in one of my cupboards. 

This was much harder to take than the number on the scale; a number is just a number, but this was a waste of perfectly good clothes. I did enjoy the trip around town the following day to look for new things to wear but it still grated that there were some things I’d got hardly any use out of that no longer fit.

Since she had finished her degree about six months before, Emma had found a job as assistant manager at a bar in town. It was not ideally what she wanted, but it was giving her some management experience and during the days on the weekend the bar opened and served lunches along with drinks. 

The two day shifts were generally one to avoid for most of the management, but Emma saw it as more of what she wanted to do so normally volunteered to work at least one of the two shifts. It was generally rather quiet during this time as no one really expected the place to be open; this gave Emma time to disappear into the kitchen and experiment and she was already very proud of two dishes she had had added to the menu.

Well, one Saturday as I had been wandering around town mainly window shopping I called on Emma as I went past. It was, as she frequently mentioned, empty apart from one of the staff behind the bar; just then Emma came out from the back.

“Oh, hi, Jo, what good timing, take a seat over there and, Michael, get the girl a drink would you, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that she disappeared back from where she came a moment before, and Michael fixed me up with a glass of white wine. A couple of minutes later Emma reappeared with a tray with a couple of plates on it and placed it on the table in front of me.

“My latest creations,” she said pointing at the plates she moved in front of me. “And you're just in time to let me know what you think of them, but make sure you're honest.”

There was to be no worries there, as the lasagne was probably the best I had ever tasted; she had made some sort of twist to it so that I could not fathom what made it so much better than the run of the mill ones you get. That, however, was nothing compared to the second plate; on it was a slice of chocolate cake that was simply divine and I could not help myself - in next to no time I was looking down at a cleared plate. 

It was strange to think with food like this how this place could be empty. So I after heaping much praise on Em’s offerings I left with a bloated but very satisfied feeling in my stomach. 

When a few days later Emma suggested I should pop by more often on the weekends to stop her from overindulging I knew I should say no. I knew I was putting on weight and this would only make matters worse, but the look in Emma’s face, and the memories of the treats from the other day, and how could I?

So it quickly became a regular occurrence for me to happen upon the bar around lunch time, eager to find what new dish may emerge from the kitchen. There I would stay at my table in the corner for a couple of hours, with a glass or three of wine; sometimes it would be one new dish, another it could be three. 

Not always were they perfect, her attempts at a curry dish proved particularly difficult and one day she spent most the afternoon bringing me out revised versions. It still was not great, but it was much improved from the first attempt when she brought out her sixth plate. I had not eaten much of some plates, but after six I was stuffed and called it a day, leaving Emma to think what change to make for a future week.

About four months after Emma had started her diet she had lost, at a slow but steady rate and was much more cheerful about it.

“Look at this,” she said as she came bouncing into the lounge of our flat. “I had these jeans before I started going out with Nick and look, look they fit again.”

I’d say in the time since the breakup she had lost about twenty pounds and the jeans did fit, if albeit a little snugly. I would have put her weight now at somewhere between one hundred sixty and one hundred seventy pounds.

I on the other hand had not been faring as well, I could see the starting of my stomach bunching up as I sat down. Worst some of the clothes I had brought only a few weeks before already seemed to be not as loose fitting as they had been when I brought them. Tight by no means, but I just noticed there was less additional space.

Now I had never been a breakfast person before, I generally would only ever get up at the last possible moment to get ready for work and if anything would just grab a quick slice of toast on the way out the door. The office where I worked introduced a breakfast menu into there canteen around a couple of months before this time. 

I had not given it any serious thought, as breakfast was not something that I had partaken in. That was until Keeley started working with me, to say Keeley was voluptuous would probably be to understate it somewhat. For several days she had been pestering me to join her, as she did not want to go down alone, and I finally gave in. The first day I had a bowl of corn flakes and a slice of toast, Keeley on the other hand went for sausage, bacon, eggs and beans. 

Now I’m not saying there was anything wrong with my choice but to see the way she dug into hers did leave me a little envious. Even so I knew a similar choice to hers would do nothing to help my waistline, so I stuck to the same choice for the next few days. On the Friday though I decided to indulge myself a little, once a week would not hurt would it. It was delicious and that then became what I did for the next few weeks, cereal four days and fry up on the fifth. 

Only it did not last, I started coming up with excuses to myself why I deserved one on possibly a Tuesday one week or a Thursday the next and before I knew it the exception was not having the fry-up, rather than not having the cereal. It was so easy when I had Keeley opposite me doing the same thing everyday without seemingly a second's thought.

After around ten weeks of breakfasts on top of everything else, my clothes for a second time were becoming a struggle. To say I was annoyed would have been an understatement, I like to keep up reasonably with fashion but to change my wardrobe after around four months was too much. It had to be done however as my skirts and trousers were very restricting and my breasts were falling out of my bras. 

Changing room mirrors give you a perceptive on your body that the mirror in our bathroom fails too. While out to find new clothes several stores had mirrors showing my body from every different angle and I could not help but see how it had changed in recent months. 

Now I had never been particularly well toned as I really didn’t do much exercise, but now I was starting to look squishy rather than smooth. My bum had started to stick out noticeably, as did my stomach which could be shaken, if only slightly. I had clearly passed the threshold from being thin to slightly chubby and it made my figure seem somehow alien to me. 

On the way out of shopping centre I spotted one of the weighing scales they usually have stashed away somewhere in these places and it just seemed right to fine a number to go with the picture in the mirrors. So I put my twenty pence in and the electronic read out flashed back 148, that was at least thirty pounds since Emma started her diet, but then with the way I had been putting the food away it did make sense. 

To Emma clearly being able to fit into her old jeans was some sort of turning point. She was happy about that but also I think as well just finally over Nick, she had started to chat up men again while we were out and generally had her smile back. The jeans were though a short lived success, she wore those and a few other thing a few times but then stopped and slipped back into some of her newer clothes. 

I noticed that when she made the evening meals she had stopped giving herself such a small portion, although that had not meant she gave me less, if anything she gave me more, as on some level convincing herself that she was having less than me so it must still be alright. Anyway by the time I was buying myself my second set of clothes Emma must have put back on five to ten of the twenty she had lost.

During one of my trips to Emma’s work on the weekend, Michael as he was often the person working the day shift with her. Now I had not given much thought how as a spectacle our afternoons may appear for someone else but I was to become acutely aware. 

It had in recent weeks been doing better for custom and was beginning to attract a small crowd of regulars, but not this day as the heavens had opened early and showed no sign of stopping. So on entering the bar I spotted I was the only customer, although it is probably the wrong term as I hardly ever paid for anything. 

So after I dried off a bit I poked my head in to the kitchen to say hi to Em and then sat at what had become my normal table in the corner, which was bourn out by the fact Michael had already left me a large glass of wine at the table. Fifteen minutes passed as I chatted with Michael about the rain and other such interesting topics, until Emma wandered out with a plate of moussaka. 

It was not one of her best dishes, something was not quite right with the Aubergines, but it was certainly hitting the spot, I did however about a third of the way through have to unbutton the top of my jeans. No, I did not already need a third set of clothes I just had been making do on weekends with some of the older clothes that I could still squeeze into. 

Well when soon afterwards Michael came over to top up my now nearly empty wine glass his eyes drifted to the inch of flesh around my middle where my t-shirt didn’t meet my jeans and the triangular section of my knickers that was on display from my unfastened jeans. I did not notice him looking at first as I was still focused on my meal, when I did he seemed to squirm a little and when his head moved back up he did not make eye contact. 

I could not tell if he was embarrassed for being caught looking, embarrassed for me for being in that position, whether he was disgusted, indifferent or you never know excited when he looked. Well anyway for the rest of the afternoon he did not seem capable of looking me straight at me or stringing a complete sentence together.

It got me thinking during the following week about whether he found the fattening me attractive or not. I decided to put it to the test the next time I went for a meal, I spent ages choosing the ideal outfit and getting ready to go out. 

I settled on one of my favourite old t-shirts, which had a deep v neck so to show off plenty of cleavage and got not even close any longer to covering my softening tummy. I decided to pair it off with a skirt that used to be an ever present when I went out on the town, but had been confined to the back of my wardrobe after about the first ten pounds I’d put on. Wearing it now it looked about to burst off me, which was part of the look I was after. 

I am sure as he first set eyes on me as I entered the bar I must have made quite a sight. I could feel his eyes follow me from behind the bar as I made my way down to my usual table in the far corner. Once he came to my table to pour my wine, I could see in those eyes a look of lust and could tell my ensemble had the desired effect. 

I proceeded to make an even bigger pig of myself than I normally do on these weekend afternoons, and even though Emma’s Swordfish dish was pretty much spot on first time, I convinced her to give me four plates complaining that the seasoning and sauce was not quite right, before I was happy. 

By this time I was starting to feel well stuffed and my skirt had long since been undone again. I did however manage to get it back done up before I moved my way across the restaurant to the kitchen to have a quick peek at what pudding Emma was conjuring, and to my delight it was a chocolate gateau. 

After she said it would be at least twenty minutes before it was finished I went to the bar to collect another glass of wine from Michael and have a bit of a flirt with him at the bar. If he had any doubt I was interested before he certainly did not now and I likewise could tell he was too and we were both playing the game, using plenty of innuendo, as we filled the time. 

Back at the table as Em brought out the desert I had no choice but to immediately undo my skirt again. The gateau was devilishly delicious and every mouthful of the huge chunk gave me a sinful satisfaction. There was no way I was going to leave even any of it on my plate and if I had not been out I’d have probably licked the plate clean. 

When I was ready to leave, I again went to tighten my skirt but this time I could not get the button to quite reach the slit. So in the end I had to leave it undone, although thankfully it was tight enough to mean it was not I any real danger of falling down. 

On the way out I went and thanked Emma for the meal and then wandered across to Michael, who finally got around to asking me out for a date, and we agreed to meet at another bar in town later that evening after he had finished work. It gave me time to go home and have a quick nap, while all the food I’d eaten settled and then get ready to go out. I decided to replace the skirt that still was not going to fasten with a pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt and then I was off.

We had a few drinks and a bit of a chat in the bar, we went to but it was really we both knew it, little more than a precursor to sex and soon we were back at his place. I proved to be a fabulous night, as we went at into the wee small hours of the night. God what a great body and what stamina he had.

It was never really going to be a long term thing with Michael and indeed we had four dates, and some fine nights in the bedroom, but it just was not going anywhere and we called it a day. 

Michael was only nineteen to my twenty six, I had not thought it would have been an issue but he was just a little immature. My time going out with Michael was certainly fun, and at least showed me that even carrying a few extra pounds, I could still be sexy. 

I was not eating any more food but as the weeks went by I was continuing to gain weight and for a time I could not figure out why? Of course it was obvious and I eventually twigged, with the breakfasts at work, the weekend feasts at the bar and Emma’s meals on an evening I was eating a lot of additional food already. 

In fact I was eating more than Emma ever did on top of the fact I was doing hardly any exercise, therefore even if my metabolism and my genes may have some effect, with the quantities I was putting away it may take some time but eventually I was bound to be as big if not bigger than Emma. 

If I did not want to get that way I was going to have to cut at least one, if not more of my new indulgences and soon. The thing was when I thought about it I really did not want too and anyway was beginning to like the way I was looking, even if I was a bit chubby.


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## TheOwl (Oct 13, 2008)

*Part 2*

Within only a few months I noticed as Emma and myself were getting ready, her to go out shopping and myself to go to work, that already our weight had become pretty much identical. She had clearly gained back all the weight that she had lost as the skirt she put on dug into her middle and it was I knew one of the larger sized items for her wardrobe. We were sharing the bathroom mirror, she was brushing her teeth and I was drying my hair after a shower. From the mirror it being rather large you could see all of our bodies from the lower ends of our thighs up. My view was drawn to our bellies, on looking I could see do discernible difference between the size of Emma and my own. The shapes however were whereas mine was big and round Emmas kind of split in the middle. I never thought I would be even slightly chubby just a year before but now you could not call me anything but chubby.

On one Friday night out after work, with Keeley and a couple of others, after several drinks, we started chatting to a group of guys. There were four of us and four of them, and the discussions soon split into one of us with one of them. I got talking with a bloke named Martin; the two of us hit it off instantly. It may of helped drawn me to him that he was also tall and muscular.

Never one to be backwards in coming forwards, it did not take long before the two of us were back at his flat. Light from the street lamps outside made his room very well lit in parts, especially where I happened to be standing. I could not help but feel a bit apprehensive striping off in front of him. Maybe he had not realised in the dark of the club that I was quite as chubby, as I had become, what if he was repulsed. Well there was nothing I could really do but just get the clothes off there was no point worrying about it. It was strange as I pulled my top off looking down my larger breasts and below them a soft and flabby little belly. As soon as I made it into the bed all the insecurities that surfaced melted away and we got down to business.

Usually after a night like that, that would be it, if I was at there I would slope off early or if they mine they would do likewise. I am not really proud of it but I had always been kind of a one night stand kind of a girl. Something however was different this time, firstly I slept like a log and did not awaken until around half ten. By that time I realised Martin was no longer in his bed, I collected my clothes from off the floor and got dressed and wandered out of the bedroom, as I left the room I got a smell I instantly recognised that of a fry-up. Looking up I could see him at the far end of the room in the kitchen part of what was an open plan lounge, kitchen and dinning room. As I approached he was conveniently just dishing up two plates and handed me the first to be ready.

Morning sleepy head, take this and take a seat. He said point across to the small dinning table.

Mmm, this smells good I said as I took my seat. And tastes it too Just after I finished my first mouthful of a bit of sausage and egg.

Its the perfect hangover cure I always find; just gets you going for the day. He said as he joined me at the table.

I had not noticed when I first started on the plate but there was a lot more to this breakfast than the ones I usually got at work. Id been eating for as long as I would normally expect it to take to finish a breakfast and started to realise that there was still about the same amount left on the plate. Not one to shy away from a challenge I continued to plough my way through. It was proving to be very painful as what had already been a tight pair of jeans were now digging in even tighter. It was only after I finished that I thought I may have been making a bit of a spectacle of myself as he had clearly given in sometime before with still around a third of a plate full of food left.

Ohh, that was lovely Martin, thank you.

Glad you liked it; did it work on the hangover?

Yes, but I dont think Im ready for the rest of the day Im totally stuffed.

Well why dont we go back to bed for a while then?

Now thats an idea.

And so I spent the rest of the weekend at Martins flat doing pretty much just three things, sleeping, eating and having sex. What a fine weekend it was and after the two of us started dating.

The takings for the Emmas bar on Saturdays and Sundays were up markedly during the day shifts and her manager kept saying how pleased he was for sometime. Then one day he said how as a thank you he had arranged for a friend of his who owned one of the swankest restaurants in town to come in a couple of weeks to try the food. Now Emma suspected the only reason he had chosen to do it now was the fact he had just got a job at one of the biggest clubs in the town and therefore did not mind losing her because he wouldnt be there either. 

Upon hearing the news Emma started to fret about what would happen if guy did not like her food. She enjoyed her job but had always wanted to run a restaurant one day and saw this as maybe an important stepping stone, if she could get a job in a top kitchen.

He could clearly try anything on the menu when he came and I could not really see what we were going to be able to do to an entire menu in a couple of days, but to help to stop Emma worrying I said Id come and help her polish the menu a little. To help in the tasting I invited Keeley along as well, to help Em with her confidence. 

I met Keeley at her flat and then wondered across to the bar around twelve and we seated at my regular table. Michael soon after we finished dating had stopped working there so it was Grant the new guy that got us both a glass of wine and told Emma we had arrived. Before we knew it he was coming out the kitchen with two plates of food, there was a sirloin steak for Keeley and for me swordfish dish, as I knew she often had problem cooking fish right. Not surprisingly they were both great and we both told Emma so when she wandered out as we were halfway through. Then the plates of food kept coming as Emma wanted to try all the least ordered dishes on the menu to check they were alright. 

I had always thought of Keeley as a big eater it was therefore to my surprise could not finish her forth plate. I guess I had become accustomed over the months to work my way through all this food on a weekend. Even though Keeley clearly eat a lot she probably just did not do it in one sitting like this. Before I finished I made my way onto a sixth dish of a soufflé although even though it tasted marvellous it was still a struggle.

I awoke early to the sound of the front door of our flat slamming shut. I realised it must have been Emma heading of to work. Now Emma always arrived early when she was going to be working in the kitchens to do all her prep work. But on the day the restaurateur was due she was two hours earlier than normal. Being woken early I got up and headed into the kitchen, and decided to make myself a little breakfast of dish of cornflakes and two English breakfast muffins, with a big lathering of butter. Now normally if I was heading into bar for lunch, but as I was up earlier I decided I needed something to tie me over. 

To make sure the place was not empty when the guy arrived I arrived just as the place opened. I had been there about an hour when from my table I saw what I was sure must be the guy as he came in on his own and he just looked like the type of guy who owned a trendy restaurant. It was difficult to see from my table whether he was enjoying his meal, but then I knew there would be something wrong with him if he hadnt. After he had finished his meal confirming I had the right man he wandered into the kitchen to see Emma. 

I dont thing your food here is really ideal for Blakes but I have been planning for a while now to open up a second new Brasserie style restaurant to complement it and I was wandering whether you would fancy running it. It will be more real food like the fabulous stuff you cooked for me today.

I, I, Id be delighted

After only going out with Martin for six weeks we decided to move in together. I had never lived with a bloke before, in fact I had never been out with a guy for more than a couple of month, but this somehow felt right. It was still daunting though, it was always Emma that was the commitment one of the two of us and it just seemed strange. It took a bit of getting used to but within a few weeks it was like I had never done it any other way. 

One thing I did not change however was I still went round to my old flat when I left work at four thirty, where Emma would make us both dinners, before she left for work. It made sense to go around there as Martin did not usually get back from the office before seven anyway, so Id be going back to an empty house. Then when Martin and I did get back, he was always ready for something to eat, but I had already eaten. Therefore one of us would fix him up with a proper meal and I would join him with a much smaller portion. Sometimes with the size of the meals I could have over at Emmas even that could be a struggle but I always made sure to join him in having something, it seemed wrong to let him eat alone. As the weeks went by it started to get easier and then as more weeks passed Im not sure if it was him or me that did it but my portions size edge closer and closer to Martins, until there was no difference and I was having a whole extra meal a day. 

I have never really been a big fan of fast food but sometimes needs must. I was coming back from my home town having been to see a few friends for the weekend and the train I was going to get had been severely delayed. I had not had lunch before I left as the journey only takes about an hour, but Id been waiting that already and I was starting to get very hungry. Not wanting to leave the station encase a train did turn up I was left with only two choices a rather unappealing selection of sandwiches from the convenience store or something from the Burger King. It proved an easy choice, so there I was soon sat down to my whopper meal, when I heard two lads on the table just down from me talking.

Have you seen the arse on her, its huge, it may well make her seat buckle any minute.

My God yeah, she certainly hasnt missed a meal in a while. To which they both had a good hearty chuckle.

I know I shouldnt but I glanced around, to see who the unfortunate was who was the butt of there joke and quickly came to realise it must have been me as the only other woman around was wafer thin. I knew Id put on weight of course I did but it was shocking to hear someone knock me for it, even if it was just two pubescent boys. It certainly wasnt going to stop me however from finishing my meal however, which hit the spot nicely. It could have been a spark to make me think about what I was becoming but I just put it down to the fact Id been wearing rather tight sweat pants which emphasised the size of my bottom.

It took a while after deciding to open a new restaurant for it to actually happen. What with finding a suitable site, then the legal side of a lease, fitting it out with the right equipment and finding suitable staff. Emma had been doing a lot of practising on what her new menu would be for the launch during this time, with herself and me being the guinea pigs. Often when I went round to her flat after work or at the bar where she continued to work for a while, she would experiment on what her new menu should be. She had to find something that fit in someway with the menu from Blakes. It being classed as modern British, which I discovered just meant foods from around the world with a bit of a twist to make them something new, that had to look fancy. 

I noticed around the time the new restaurant was due to open, though maybe not at the same rate as me, that Emma had continued to pile on the pounds over recent months. As she came back from the kitchen, I saw her in profile and it was clear she was really starting to fill out. It was made particularly clear by the fact her top failed to get anywhere close to meeting her skirt. As she had got her new restaurant opening soon. She had started seeing a new guy called Matt, although it was only at the early stages. Everything seemed to be going well for Emma and the fact that her weight was at an all time high did not seem to bother her in the slightest.

There I was chatting to Anna in the office when I heard someone from behind me say.

Oh Keeley do you mind, oh sorry Joanne, can you budge across a bit to let me pass, please. 

I could not believe it John, one of my closest friends in the office had mistaken if only from the back for Keeley. I knew I had been gaining weight but then so has Keeley as well since she joined. No way was I as big as her, I was sure of it; she was not around so I could not do a quick check, but no way.

A couple of hours later when she returned from the meeting shed been in I could not help but start sizing her up and trying to work out how I compared against her. I spent the afternoon sneaking glimpses of her at her desk and as she moved around and tried to figure out how she measured up to me. It was difficult to really tell but I guessed that indeed we were rather close in weight but she probably still weighed thirty or so extra pound. It was however true that from behind you could not really see any difference as her derrière was quite small for someone her size, whereas mine was pretty large. 

The opening night of Blakes Brasserie was a roaring success, which got good write ups from the three food critics that were there for the launch. I certainly agreed with them but then I always love anything that Emma cooks. The following nights were a little less busy than opening night but they were getting a steady stream of people through the door.

An introduction to the office where I worked they started to get one of the staff from the canteen to come around mid morning and then mid afternoon with a trolley of cakes and snacks. Well into the eating bug I found it hard to turn down the opportunity to pig out a little every time it came past.

Hey Keeley I asked her at her desk, Do you want anything? As I collected a Kit Kat and a sticky bun for myself. 

No, not for me thanks.

After I paid and the Tracy left with her trolley. Keeley asked me.

Dont you ever worry about the amount your eating? I have always been reasonably big, and Im fine with that but I have to watch to make sure I do not go overboard because I would not want to be much bigger than I am now.

Errm not really, I did when I first started to gain weight but Ive got kind of used to it, if I fancy something to eat, well I eat it.

You do realise that if you carry on like this your not just going to be this size you are liable to get huge.

Ive not really thought about it, I just guessed Id kind of level off at some point but then Ive just started eating more and the levelling off has never happen. I kind of like being this size and I think Martin likes me this size as well. So for now Im just not going to worry about it.

At least once a week Martin and I had got in a habit of going out for a meal. Sometimes to trendy restaurants but more often than not to place like the all you can eat Chinese that we had chosen for this evening. Well versed in the proper procedures we had both come along to clothes with a bit of spare room in the waist. 

You know Joanne you do not have to pile the food up so high you can always go back for more. Martin said of the mountain of food on my first plate.

I know, I know but I was just putting a plate together of all the starters and got a bit carried away. Oh hi, could you get us a couple of bottles of beer please I said to the waitress who happened to just be walking past. Knowing that the beer on tap in places like this always tended to be gassy I assume because it help to make you full quicker. 

Four plates of food and three bottles of beer later I was starting to feel very full. Martin had also had four plates, but they had not been anyway near as crammed with food as mine. 

Hey Jo do you want some more?

Urrgh I dont think I could eat another bite.

Oh go on you know you want to.

Alright then, but you can get it, I think Id have trouble moving. I said with my hand resting on my belly.

When he came back with two new plates again he gave me one that was piled high and himself one that wasnt. I set about it with gusto not wanting to let my man down although by the end it was a real struggle. Especially as my elasticised jeans, were even starting to feel a bit tight across my middle. It probably took twice as long to finish than the first but I still succeeded eventually. Then after Martin settled up, I started what was a very slow walk back to the car.

So every two years they gave all the staff at my office a physical, to show there commitment to good health of its employees. Obviously the heavily subsidised canteen and snack trolley somewhat went against that goal. Well anyway as I think I mentioned at the last one I had just started to gain the first few pounds. Now two years later I was a little apprehensive of what the doctor they had brought in was going to say when he saw the changes in me.

He started by giving me an eye exam, moved on to then a hearing one and then others. As if to make a point, the final thing he opted to do was to weigh me. At 57 and 259lbs gave BMI of 40.2 and just classed me as morbidly obese. I was expecting to be considered overweight but not quite to that extreme. I know I had a pretty big round flabby belly, a much more impressive cleavage, my bum and thigh were thicker, hey even my arms were flabby, but Id never felt that big. It suddenly got me panicking, had I gotten too fat? He proceeded to give me a quick lecture on the importance of diet and exercise. By the time he finished I could not wait to get out of there and get off home, which luckily it was time to do.

When Martin said that he liked a woman to have a bit of meat on her bones, I took it to mean he did not mind if I was to continue getting fatter, whereas he could have simply meant that he liked the roughly one hundred and eighty pounds, I was when we started going out. On that drive home I started to worry I was wrong about things all sort of doubts started creeping into my head. So much so I very nearly pulled into the side of a passing Mercedes on the way. 

Once I home I decided to have a chat through things with Martin. Problem was that would not be for another couple of hours as he was still at work, which just gave me more time to stew with my thoughts. Finally he got back and I told him what the doctor had said and asked him what he thought.

You know I love the way you look, but whether you weigh one or five hundred pounds I would still love you.

Thanks but I just got panicked when he started saying how I was risking my health.

Well thats not entirely true, although I tell you what why dont we start doing more exercise together and you could cut out those cigarettes you have when you go out drinking. That ought to help you to stay healthy

So we started to go on walks together at the weekend, it was harder than I thought it would be at first but soon got much easier. I stopped smoking which proved to be easy as it was only something I did when out drinking anyway. Also I continued to eat probably as much but tried to pick healthier alternative some of the time. Over the next three months I continued to gain weight but at a much slower rate than I had been recently. An extra eight pounds might not be a little but it was a definite slowing from recent trends. I was confident that before long my weight would plateau, but little did I know what was to happen next.


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## Ssaylleb (Oct 18, 2008)

Thanks for posting this, i enjoyed reading it. pretty quick gain but that's the way i like it


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