Fiji
Well-Known Member
I was 25 years old when it happened. I had graduated three years earlier and was having an immensely good time in my life. I had a wonderful girlfriend whom I was readying to propose to. And unlike most guys my age, I didn't have to worry about a 9 to 5 job, as I made quite a bit of coin in college by day trading, and continued doing that after graduation. Starting with a modest amount of seed money from my parents I had parlayed it into having a couple of million dollars in the bank. Thing were good and it meant my girlfriend didn't need to work and that I could take care of business from our high-rise apartment.
Like me, my wonderful girlfriend was a bit on the heavy side. Or to be more accurate, we were both fatties! And one of us was getting fatter by the day.
I met Lyla when we were both juniors at UCLA. I was pudgy but not enormous, 6 feet tall and 275 pounds. She was kind of a shorty, 5'4" and a voluptuous 225 pounds and we were immediately attracted to each other, both physically and spiritually. It was like we were soulmates and I immediately knew she was the woman for me.
And I was even more attracted to her sexually as she put on more pounds. Over the five years of our relationship, my weight had changed little, with only a nominal gain of only 25 pounds, while Lyla ballooned up an additional 75 pounds, meaning she and I weighed exactly the same despite my eight-inch height advantage.
While I adored her and continually complimented her on her figure, it bugged the hell out of Lyla that she weighed the same as me. She constantly bugged me about it, but instead of wanting to lose weight herself, she tried to convince me to gain, so she "wouldn't feel so fat." I tried to honor her wishes, always taking seconds at mealtime and eating the desserts she would make, but I was a pretty active guy (playing golf three or four times a week, playing basketball with my college buddies once a week, and just staying physically active in general) and the extra food just didn't take, which bugged Lyla even more!
It got so that Lyla took to telling me "if you loved me, you'd gain a hundred pounds." I'd always chuckle and pat my big belly and say "I'm trying baby," to which she would always respond "you're not trying hard enough" then she would storm off to our bedroom to snack on the candy bar stash she kept in her lingerie drawer.
One weekend, we went back to my chlldhood home to visit my parents. The community had changed a lot since I was a kid but a lot of the bars, restaurants, and small businesses remained the same. But one I noticed had changed was Sister Ann, The Palm Reader. It had always been kind of a joke business, located in what had once been a 1930's bungalo with a big sign out front featuring an open hand waiting to be read and a big pink rose. The rumor had always been that Sister Ann was really a madame overseeing a house of prostitution but I always found that hard to believe because the police were always shutting down massage parlors and the like. But whatever was going on there, I never heard of anyone who had actually ventured into the establishment.
On Friday night, as Lyla and I drove past the place on our way to my parent's, I noticed that the old sign was gone and out of nostalgia mentioned it to Lyla and told her the rumors from my youth. In the sign's place was a new sign announcing a new business, Madame Zoltar, Fortunes Told and Wishes Granted. Lyla was quite amused and told me "that sounds a lot more exotic than a palm reader." I agreed and very jokingly said, "maybe we should pay Madame Zoltar a visit."
I didn't think much more about it after that, as Mom had a huge dinner waiting for us when we arrived and Saturday and Sunday both featured endless rounds of extreme gluttony. I knew what was in store and did my best to temper my intake. But Lyla dug in with gusto, prompting my Mom (who herself was maybe a donut shy of 500 pounds) to commend me on my choice of women, saying "I'm so glad you chose a woman with an appetite." Dad, who was a small guy of 150 pounds, but always a fat admirer, patted me on the back too, delighted at "what a big girl Lyla is."
Lyla not only outdid herself during dinner, but crushed the dessert course too, with her and my Mom seeing who could eat more while Dad and I sat back and enjoyed the show. Mom was disappointed I didn't eat more than I did, but I playfully told her that she was eating enough for both of us and Dad too. Lyla kicked me under the table, but Mom took it all in stride, looking over at me and saying "your Dad expects me to keep my girlish figure." Dad got a huge grin on his face, as he recalled that Mom's "girlish" figure was 350 pounds worth when they met in tenth grade. No wonder they both loved Lyla ...
After resting up a couple of hours after dinner and Lyla and Mom demolishing a late night "snack" (an entire lemon chess pie with real whipped cream on top), we all went off to bed. Mom and Dad's bedroom was next to mine and Lyla's and not five minutes in an awful racket arose from next door. It was evident that Dad had been really turned on by Mom's gluttony and from the amount of noise it was obvious that Mom was on top. It sounded like the bed was lifting off the floor with every thrust then shuddering back down loudly under its 650 pound load.
Lyla and I struggled mightily to contain our laughter at my horny parents. As I was taking off her clothes, I told her that my Dad was always like that when Mom overate, then I nibbled on her ear lobe some and whispered "I am my Dad's son and I'm REALLY turned on right now by how much you ate tonight." Soon we were making quite a ruckus ourselves.
We left Sunday afternoon after another huge meal and drove out past Madame Zoltar's. Lyla took a look at the sign and yelled "turn around Tubby, she's open on Sundays, so let's go in." "Are you crazy," I said. She responded "maybe, but it will be fun." So I humored by beautiful butterball of a girlfriend and made a u-turn.
We knocked on the door and a voice said "enter." We were, not unsurprisingly, the only customers there. Madame Zoltar was an attractive woman, maybe my Mom's age and not much smaller, with maybe 400 pounds being hidden under a black kaftan. "Welcome" she said and waved us over to sit at the table with her. Once seated and I handed over a $100 bill, she exclaimed what a lovely couple we were and asked to see our palms, mine first.
"I can see that there is a very fat man buried within you and just waiting to get out." Then she turned to Lyla and said "your boyfriend has a very fat future ahead, as fat as you want him to be."
Knowing that fortune telling is a farce, I said "that's not too hard to guess, as I'm already 300 pounds and no doubt will gain more over time." Lyla gave me the evil eye, then looked excitedly at Madame Zoltar, and blurted out "in that case, my wish is for Tubby here to be 500 pounds." Then I made the mistake of snarkily saying, "why stop at 500, why not a thousand?" Lyla looked at the Madame and said "he makes a good point, let's make him 650 pounds." Again, I snarked "why stop there baby?" And she responded, "I want you so very fat so that I will feel skinny next to you, but I still want to be able to chase you around the apartment." "650 pounds it is, your girlfriend's wish is granted." I then rolled my eyes at Lyla as if to say "this is a total crock."
Next it was Lyla's turn and the Madame played her like a violin, saying "I see your future as a thin woman married to an extremely obese man, this man." "Goody," said Lyla. I rolled my eyes at her again, then turned to the Madame and said, "in that case, my wish is for Lyla to become thinner, but not too thin, maybe 200 pounds but not losing any of her rack and keeping a nice big butt." "Very well," Madame Zoltar said, "200 pounds with a big bust and booty it is." Then she looked at Lyla and said "you'll never feel fat again when you're standing next to your fat man."
Soon we said our goodbyes and were on our way back home, with me expressing what a waste of $100 that was. Lyla shook her head at me and said "I know it's bunk, but wasn't it fun?" I shook my head no, and she said "come on, wasn't it fun to imagine me a hundred pounds lighter but still with my enormous rack and booty? I know it was fun for me to imagine you at 650 pounds, chasing you around the apartment, then riding your enormous fat body."
I conceded that it might be fun, then put it out of my mind again. Upon arriving home I got caught up in market research for my trades the next day and went to bed around 1 a.m. Lyla had already been down for a couple of hours and I let her rest even though I was hard as a rock having been pondering her gluttonous ways over the weekend at my parent's.
I was tired and slept like a rock until about 6 a.m. when Lyla started pushing and punching me, attempting to gain more room in the bed. I looked over at her and it looked like she was half hanging off the side of the mattress. Then I looked closer and there was a lot less of my sexy girlfriend -- she looked like she had lost a hundred pounds!
Then she looked at me and said "oh my God, you're ***ing enormous!" While she normally had trouble getting out of bed, she bounded to her feet, looked at me again, then looked down at her once consequential belly, which was now barely there. Then touched her breasts, which seemed even bigger now that she had lost her belly weight. Then reached to find her still bodacious booty and got an evil grin on her face.
I was exploring my body too and couldn't believe how enormous I seemed to be. Lyla told me to get up and look at myself in the mirror, but I had trouble getting up. She finally helped me to my feet and I caught a glimpse in the mirror -- I had to be at least 650 pounds!
"We've gotta fix this," I said. But Lyla shook her head no and said "let's not rush into anything Fatty."
Like me, my wonderful girlfriend was a bit on the heavy side. Or to be more accurate, we were both fatties! And one of us was getting fatter by the day.
I met Lyla when we were both juniors at UCLA. I was pudgy but not enormous, 6 feet tall and 275 pounds. She was kind of a shorty, 5'4" and a voluptuous 225 pounds and we were immediately attracted to each other, both physically and spiritually. It was like we were soulmates and I immediately knew she was the woman for me.
And I was even more attracted to her sexually as she put on more pounds. Over the five years of our relationship, my weight had changed little, with only a nominal gain of only 25 pounds, while Lyla ballooned up an additional 75 pounds, meaning she and I weighed exactly the same despite my eight-inch height advantage.
While I adored her and continually complimented her on her figure, it bugged the hell out of Lyla that she weighed the same as me. She constantly bugged me about it, but instead of wanting to lose weight herself, she tried to convince me to gain, so she "wouldn't feel so fat." I tried to honor her wishes, always taking seconds at mealtime and eating the desserts she would make, but I was a pretty active guy (playing golf three or four times a week, playing basketball with my college buddies once a week, and just staying physically active in general) and the extra food just didn't take, which bugged Lyla even more!
It got so that Lyla took to telling me "if you loved me, you'd gain a hundred pounds." I'd always chuckle and pat my big belly and say "I'm trying baby," to which she would always respond "you're not trying hard enough" then she would storm off to our bedroom to snack on the candy bar stash she kept in her lingerie drawer.
One weekend, we went back to my chlldhood home to visit my parents. The community had changed a lot since I was a kid but a lot of the bars, restaurants, and small businesses remained the same. But one I noticed had changed was Sister Ann, The Palm Reader. It had always been kind of a joke business, located in what had once been a 1930's bungalo with a big sign out front featuring an open hand waiting to be read and a big pink rose. The rumor had always been that Sister Ann was really a madame overseeing a house of prostitution but I always found that hard to believe because the police were always shutting down massage parlors and the like. But whatever was going on there, I never heard of anyone who had actually ventured into the establishment.
On Friday night, as Lyla and I drove past the place on our way to my parent's, I noticed that the old sign was gone and out of nostalgia mentioned it to Lyla and told her the rumors from my youth. In the sign's place was a new sign announcing a new business, Madame Zoltar, Fortunes Told and Wishes Granted. Lyla was quite amused and told me "that sounds a lot more exotic than a palm reader." I agreed and very jokingly said, "maybe we should pay Madame Zoltar a visit."
I didn't think much more about it after that, as Mom had a huge dinner waiting for us when we arrived and Saturday and Sunday both featured endless rounds of extreme gluttony. I knew what was in store and did my best to temper my intake. But Lyla dug in with gusto, prompting my Mom (who herself was maybe a donut shy of 500 pounds) to commend me on my choice of women, saying "I'm so glad you chose a woman with an appetite." Dad, who was a small guy of 150 pounds, but always a fat admirer, patted me on the back too, delighted at "what a big girl Lyla is."
Lyla not only outdid herself during dinner, but crushed the dessert course too, with her and my Mom seeing who could eat more while Dad and I sat back and enjoyed the show. Mom was disappointed I didn't eat more than I did, but I playfully told her that she was eating enough for both of us and Dad too. Lyla kicked me under the table, but Mom took it all in stride, looking over at me and saying "your Dad expects me to keep my girlish figure." Dad got a huge grin on his face, as he recalled that Mom's "girlish" figure was 350 pounds worth when they met in tenth grade. No wonder they both loved Lyla ...
After resting up a couple of hours after dinner and Lyla and Mom demolishing a late night "snack" (an entire lemon chess pie with real whipped cream on top), we all went off to bed. Mom and Dad's bedroom was next to mine and Lyla's and not five minutes in an awful racket arose from next door. It was evident that Dad had been really turned on by Mom's gluttony and from the amount of noise it was obvious that Mom was on top. It sounded like the bed was lifting off the floor with every thrust then shuddering back down loudly under its 650 pound load.
Lyla and I struggled mightily to contain our laughter at my horny parents. As I was taking off her clothes, I told her that my Dad was always like that when Mom overate, then I nibbled on her ear lobe some and whispered "I am my Dad's son and I'm REALLY turned on right now by how much you ate tonight." Soon we were making quite a ruckus ourselves.
We left Sunday afternoon after another huge meal and drove out past Madame Zoltar's. Lyla took a look at the sign and yelled "turn around Tubby, she's open on Sundays, so let's go in." "Are you crazy," I said. She responded "maybe, but it will be fun." So I humored by beautiful butterball of a girlfriend and made a u-turn.
We knocked on the door and a voice said "enter." We were, not unsurprisingly, the only customers there. Madame Zoltar was an attractive woman, maybe my Mom's age and not much smaller, with maybe 400 pounds being hidden under a black kaftan. "Welcome" she said and waved us over to sit at the table with her. Once seated and I handed over a $100 bill, she exclaimed what a lovely couple we were and asked to see our palms, mine first.
"I can see that there is a very fat man buried within you and just waiting to get out." Then she turned to Lyla and said "your boyfriend has a very fat future ahead, as fat as you want him to be."
Knowing that fortune telling is a farce, I said "that's not too hard to guess, as I'm already 300 pounds and no doubt will gain more over time." Lyla gave me the evil eye, then looked excitedly at Madame Zoltar, and blurted out "in that case, my wish is for Tubby here to be 500 pounds." Then I made the mistake of snarkily saying, "why stop at 500, why not a thousand?" Lyla looked at the Madame and said "he makes a good point, let's make him 650 pounds." Again, I snarked "why stop there baby?" And she responded, "I want you so very fat so that I will feel skinny next to you, but I still want to be able to chase you around the apartment." "650 pounds it is, your girlfriend's wish is granted." I then rolled my eyes at Lyla as if to say "this is a total crock."
Next it was Lyla's turn and the Madame played her like a violin, saying "I see your future as a thin woman married to an extremely obese man, this man." "Goody," said Lyla. I rolled my eyes at her again, then turned to the Madame and said, "in that case, my wish is for Lyla to become thinner, but not too thin, maybe 200 pounds but not losing any of her rack and keeping a nice big butt." "Very well," Madame Zoltar said, "200 pounds with a big bust and booty it is." Then she looked at Lyla and said "you'll never feel fat again when you're standing next to your fat man."
Soon we said our goodbyes and were on our way back home, with me expressing what a waste of $100 that was. Lyla shook her head at me and said "I know it's bunk, but wasn't it fun?" I shook my head no, and she said "come on, wasn't it fun to imagine me a hundred pounds lighter but still with my enormous rack and booty? I know it was fun for me to imagine you at 650 pounds, chasing you around the apartment, then riding your enormous fat body."
I conceded that it might be fun, then put it out of my mind again. Upon arriving home I got caught up in market research for my trades the next day and went to bed around 1 a.m. Lyla had already been down for a couple of hours and I let her rest even though I was hard as a rock having been pondering her gluttonous ways over the weekend at my parent's.
I was tired and slept like a rock until about 6 a.m. when Lyla started pushing and punching me, attempting to gain more room in the bed. I looked over at her and it looked like she was half hanging off the side of the mattress. Then I looked closer and there was a lot less of my sexy girlfriend -- she looked like she had lost a hundred pounds!
Then she looked at me and said "oh my God, you're ***ing enormous!" While she normally had trouble getting out of bed, she bounded to her feet, looked at me again, then looked down at her once consequential belly, which was now barely there. Then touched her breasts, which seemed even bigger now that she had lost her belly weight. Then reached to find her still bodacious booty and got an evil grin on her face.
I was exploring my body too and couldn't believe how enormous I seemed to be. Lyla told me to get up and look at myself in the mirror, but I had trouble getting up. She finally helped me to my feet and I caught a glimpse in the mirror -- I had to be at least 650 pounds!
"We've gotta fix this," I said. But Lyla shook her head no and said "let's not rush into anything Fatty."
