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Men are from Mars?

By: misterechik



Today started out as simply as any other. Woke up (grudgingly), got the kids off to school with only a small amount of bitching and arguing, and indulged in one of the simple pleasures in life and probably the highlight of my morning: instant store brand coffee with hazelnut creamer and a marlboro light. As I eased my nicotine craving and sipped my caffeine fix, I thought back fondly on the early days of mine and my husband's relationshit (that was a typo, but I'm leaving it cuz I think I'm on to something there). Coincidentally, I was also thinking about getting laid, and was taking a mental tally in my head of all the freak-nasty shit we've done over the years, seeing if we've left anything out that's illegal in at least a few states.

The problem with me is that I get pretty bipolar from time to time. Just like that I went from singing "Ode to My Husband's Cock" praises in my head, to "Fuck Him and All the Stupid Shit He's Ever Said and Done, and No I Don't Want Any Dick From You Jerk". And it's not just him. I got to thinking about several instances which actually gave some validity to that book about men and women and Mars and whatnot.

Like the other night for instance.

Apparently, on the planet Mars, women are cunts. Literally. And by literally I mean there must be giant pussies with no other body parts attached just floating around speechless and without cause or destination. When Martian men have the need, they just waltz up and insert cock into cunt, and have a blast. Do not pass "Go", do not collect $200.00. Thank you, drive through.

Another problem with me and many other women is that instances like this one prompt me to think of every other stupid, dumb-assed sexual occurence I have ever had.

Have you ever been having sex with a guy, and for whatever reason, he has disengaged from your vagina and then tries to stick it back in...YOUR ASS. Didn't give you any warning or indication that that's where this whole thing was headed, just starts probing around your butthole like a wild boar digging for truffles. Then if you object or question what's going on he has the nerve to act like it was an accident. Like he can't tell the difference between an asshole and a vagina. Bullshit. The fucked up part is then you start to wonder if he really couldn't tell....MAYBE you have a loose asshole, and he really couldn't tell. No, he just thinks he's sneaky and I'm stupid. But that didn't stop me from checking the patency and tightness of my butthole with my finger in the shower, just in case. NOW who's fucked up?

Martians have a direct tube from brain to mouth. There is no filtering process. Men always wonder how women know what they are thinking. Because if you were thinking it, it probably just fell right out of your mouth. Case in point: "I like fucking you". Umm...Ok. That's pretty cool. It's good to know that I've had sex with you about 4,000 times and you enjoyed it. I would feel pretty stupid about the other 3,999 times if you didn't. Then we have this diarrhea of the mouth: "Your clit is huge".

Hold the phone. What the FUCK is that supposed to mean?

Here's the great part about this. Apparently, that was meant to be a compliment. The explanation? "I just mean that when you get really turned on, ya know, it's like, big..." Ohhh....no shit. Remember that Adam Sandler album where he says his neighbor's dog has a 4-inch clit in that fake Mexican accent? That's all I could think of. Guys, for those of you that don't already know, no woman likes to be told that anything on her body is big, unless you're talking about her tits. Unless they're really small, then I guess that would be kind of mean and sarcastic.

I just thought of another situation that sometimes ends up pretty awkward and stupid. I love dirty talk. Especially when you're fucking like wild dogs in heat. It's awesome. But then sometimes your guy pulls the "repeat after me" thing. Uh-oh. You know where this is going, you just hope it never arrives. Yet it always does. "Tell me you love Daddy's dick..." Ewww. You just can't help that mentally you are torn between throwing up and laughing until you piss yourself. But you choke it back and cleverly find a detour like, "Yeah, Baby....I love it". The last thing I want to envision when I've had way too much tequila, my legs are in the air, and I'm getting pounded like the coast of Florida during hurricane season is Daddy. Sorry.

Why do men never lose fascination with their genitals? I mean, just about every long term relationship I have been in includes watching my significant other become the David Copperfield of Dick or the Cock Contortionist. I have seen cock used for amusement purposes for just about everything from a towel rack to a microphone. My husband likes to see how many books he can stack on his erect penis. Regrettably enough, I have been deprived of this trait with my own genitals. I suppose I just don't think it would be that much fun to have a contest with my girlfriends to see how many raisinettes I could pack in my pussy or if I could pick up a Q-tip with my ass cheeks.

I guess it is kind of funny, in a Ron Jeremy sort of way. You know how he's so fucking disgusting but you can't tear your eyes off of the man's dick in action? I suppose that's how I generally feel about male-types. Bipolar Disorder again. Think I'll go buy some raisinettes and give "Daddy" some butt tonight after all.

Men Are From Mars



"Just try it", she whispered. "I know you'll love it".

These words word the start of a journey in to a lifestyle I barely knew existed before I met her.

I'd seen gonzo documentaries and the usual clip from sensationalist chat shows but to experience it first-hand explains it all. The primal urge that rests within so many of us was unlocked in me that night.

Five weeks prior, I had been working on a trading desk at one of the largest hedge funds in the country - Mars Capital. I was wealthy enough to quit and live a normal life, but the greed that had set in following my first bonus meant the world was not enough. From the desk to the club four nights a week, my routine was that of banker stereotype. Poor boy done good, picked from a market and made in to a trader. I had looks, a nice apartment, a country home and enough cash passing through my account to live a life of excess. But it wasn't enough. 

I'd never been overly interested in the girls that I came across. Sure, I'd had girlfriends, but each relationship was best described as vanilla. Until her.

Her: Kate, She was very different. I'd noticed her in the office. How could I not. She worked for one of our larger clients, and mirroring the client's portfolio size, she was large. Considerably larger than anyone I'd seen of her age. At least in London. 

Her physique was alien to me. Alluring from the offset, voluptuous, exaggerated. Her face as thin as a size 6 girl rested on top of 280lbs of well-dressed perfection. I caught her gaze as I passed her in the lobby. I was hooked. Never before had I felt a stirring like this. She was beautiful. No, she was Beauty. 

I couldn't approach her, through fear, stigma and legal obligations. So when she left the office to go to lunch with our manager, I assumed that I'd have to wait till the next time she visited to glimpse her beauty again.

The weekend came and it was time to let off some steam. After a few warm up drinks with my team I broke off and headed to one of my regular clubs. I was on my second cocktail when I spotted her. 

She was seated at a table with two other guys and some of the usual champagne whores mulling around their bottle. Her hair was down, her makeup on, highlighting her almond eyes and sumptuous lips. Her body draped in a tight black dress, her heavy arms were adorned with bronze and gold bracelets and a Patek. She looked confident but bored.

Emboldened by the liquor I began my advance toward her table. I had no idea what I expected to do or say. I just had to be closer to her. Less than ten feet away from her table our eyes locked. A smile crept across her face and I raised my glass to acknowledge her. Instead of standing up she gestured for me to come over by tapping the space next to her. I sped to the table and stood in front of her. Up close she was more entrancing than ever.

"Hi", I called, exaggerating the mouthing to try and communicate over the filtered drone of the music.

"Hey there." she responded, her eyes sultry. With an air of dominance she repeated her earlier gesture for me to sit at her side.

I began to introduce myself, "I'm...",

"The guy from Mars?", She interrupted. Her pun amused her and broke the ice enough for me to feel comfortable.

"You recognised me?" I must've turned somewhat goofy or forward enough to attract the attention of her companions at the table.

"Are you going to introduce us?" The shorter of the two interrupted, seeming relieved to have an excuse to turn his back on the three girls helping themselves to his liquor.

"I'm Richard, from Mars Capital" I stuck out my hand toward him.

"Ah cool, so this is who Kate was with earlier? Good to meet someone who we've entrusted to gamble our money with!" He seemed jovial but stern. 

Kate interjected, "Richard isn't one of the smilers; he's one of the thinkers"

"Traders. Well, head of the equities desk" I continued.

The conversation went on, they motioned for Kate and I to keep talking and went back to their business.

She glowed when she spoke. I found out she had just started working for their equity firm having finished studying chemistry and falling into the financial industry trap. I detected an American or Canadian accent. She was 26, "Loved London" was enjoying the night life.

Three drinks later we found ourselves in the back of the same black cab on the way to my place. Buzzed and a little excited I lead her up the stairs and in to the apartment where I offered her another drink. She accepted and asked where the bathroom was. The two glasses of wine I poured were never left the living room but we found ourselves in bed.

I'd never seen a woman like this. So feminine. Her full figure oozed sex. I worked my way down from her mouth kissing her slim neck then progressing to the warm billowing flesh of her breasts. They sat on a globular belly that hid her lips. I dived in like a teenager feeling her belly rest on top of my head, it cushioning her writhing and I explored her moist sex.

When I mounted her, her flesh rippled and sloshed with every thrust. Never had I felt so in tune with a woman's body. Her femininity was exaggerated by her fat. And I wanted more.

Her breasts, belly and thighs, like an ocean, moved with our rhythm. Never had I understood what erotica was until I was looking down on her fat moving. She was a goddess. She climaxed with a guttural moan that sent me in to a frenzy. I grabbed her massive behind and pulled myself in for my finish. I could feel her pussy tighten around me as I thrusted harder and harder at her soft mound.

Finally it was all too much and we erupted together, sweating and panting. I lay on top of her feeling our hearts beating. The salty smell of sex engulfed our space. 

When I pulled out I rolled on to my back and helped her in to a seated position on the bed.

"That was..." She looked shy, as though the dominance she started the evening with was tamed for that moment by our passion.

"Life changing?" I breathed

She nuzzled my cheek. "Cute. Cute but accurate" Her warm glow was now flushed. "So,"

"So". I didn't want to ruin anything by saying the wrong thing. "Would you like to stay the night?". I quickly thought myself too forward, "I have a spare room that I can make up or here and I can go in the spare room or"

"Here, with you?" She lowered her chin and looked up at me.

"Here with me." I was relieved. 

I slept a rested dreamless sleep. No thoughts of numbers, no recalling the day. Saturday AM arrived with me spooning her ample form. My fingers teasing their way between her folds, exploring this new sensation.

I was a convert. I had gone fat and I was not going back.

She turned to look at me and kissed me softly on the cheek. "Morning."

"Morning" I grinned back. "Would you like coffee, or we can head for breakfast. There's a great place downstairs"

This was my first surprise, I wasn't looking at her as a fat girl. She as just a girl. A girl I passionately liked and had enjoyed a steaming hot night with, But her response confused me. "Just coffee, I don't do breakfast".

A rush of thoughts came through my head. 'Was she dieting?'; 'If she is, should I tell her breakfast helps?'; 'Is she in a hurry to leave'; 'Was it a mistake to offer?' 

I let them settle as I set up the coffee machine. It was half way through filling the flask when I felt her belly bump in to my back. 

"I'm on a kinda weird diet, so no breakfast. But if you want we can go to the cafe. I've got nothing to do today but go home and get changed" 

I turned around to greet her, She was wrapped in a towel she'd found on the floor in the bedroom. It hid very little. It want long until my gown was being parted at the waist. She looked down and gave me an evil grin. We returned to the bedroom and had a reprise of the previous night. Showered and going commando, I drove her to her door and left her my number in case she wanted to meet up later or on Sunday afternoon.

I got a call Sunday evening asking if I wanted to do dinner.

Sunday dinner was a typical English affair at my local gastro pub. Roast beef, all the trimmings and a bottle of wine to share. She worked her way through her meal like a she hadn't eaten in a week. It came time for desert. A course I usually skip. She ordered two. I assumed one each but what to my confusion what I witnessed next was a turning point in my life. She devoured her pudding and then continued to slide the tiramisu I assumed she'd ordered for me toward herself. She then looked me square in the eye, grinned and sensually began eating it. Her mouthfuls were small. Her tongue teased each creamy spoonful off the silver in to her pallet. She moan slightly, "This is so good!" She then licked the tip of the spoon and went in for another mouthful. Spoonful after spoonful she continued the show. Eating with passion, and a deep sexual gluttony. Not the messy caricatured gluttony the modern media portray: that of a gourmand. When the plate was empty she winked at me, "Want to take me home?"

How could I say no. We split the bill and walked to the car. 

I couldn't keep my eyes off her in the car. She stayed silent with a smile. Like she knew she'd captured me. Her poker face was broken and her full house was written across her whole visage.

Her apartment was tidy and girly. Spots and prints and colourful china featured in every room. I sat on the couch as I removed my shoes.

"Tea?" She called from the strip that was her kitchen on the facing wall of her living room. 

"Please". She approached with two cups. Her blouse tighter than I had noticed in the car. Placing them down, she lowered herself next to me. Her weight causing the cushions to bow toward her pulling me in her direction. 

I didn't wish to fight it. I leaned in for a kiss. Our lips locked but then she moved away.

"dinner was great. It's my favourite meal." her smile broke again. "Infact it's the only meal I eat. Well that and supper and maybe a midnight snack". She was studying my face. Testing my reaction.

"You look like you truly enjoyed it".

"I, Truly, did". Her emphasis matched my phrasing. I had given away my pleasure at seeing her pleasure. "You didn't seem to mind me eating the other desert? Could you tell how much I enjoyed it?" She stroked her belly.

I was cornered. Was it a test? My time as a trader had taught me to try and see what people were saying under their words. What was something worth to someone over what their lips were letting slip. I flashed back to her eating. Her eyes were on me: was the whole meal a test? How was she last night? I remember touching her belly as is jiggled back and forth. I remember it was right before she began to moan. Was that her trigger? Was it her fat that turned her on? It could have been, but that was so out of left field that it didn't seem like a card worth playing. I played safe. "I can tell you that I like seeing you enjoy things. And you seem to have been pleasured by our last 24 hours together. Shall we maybe try it again next Friday"

"Leave me with a memento?" The words were a green light. Our hands started exploring each other's bodies. I unbuttoned her, her hands unbuttoned my jeans. She started rubbing me through my boxers. I was oozing by the time I'd unwrapped her. I felt a need to taste her again. I laid her on the couch and dove in. Her belly on my head again felt different, harder. She was much more excited. My tongue was greeted by a gush of her juices. Ninety seconds of teasing and she came. She pushed me back and I clumsily ended on the floor. "My turn!" she declare and she wrapped her mouth around my tip. Her fingers teasing my shaft the other hand cupping my balls. She knew how to use her tongue. The spoon was her warmup, I was her big show. Her mouth kept such pressure on me that I couldn't last for more than two minutes. She was working me so furiously I that I almost blacked out as I came. through my haze I watched her greedily wipe any excess off her lips and in to her mouth. She opened wide to show me my seed and then, her eyes locked on mine she swallowed and grinned. A mischievous grin I had not seen before.

My week went by as normal. Kate and I were exchanging texts, naughty and nice. We were growing as friends and by the following weekend I was ready for another round. It didn't fail to disappoint. Week after week our exploration grew. Week four was the other hole, week five was a day in a hotel room with some of her lonely nights' companions. But our sex life wasn't the only thing that I noticed growing. Kate's wardrobe was changing so, fully clothed, it was hard to spot the difference, but with her clothes off I noticed her belly lower, her breasts fuller, her ass folding over and her upper arms beginning to overhang. With each softening she was becoming more sensual, more womanly in my eyes, and far sexier. We booked a weekend away together in Paris eight weeks in to us dating.

It was there that she came clean.

 

We dropped our bags in the room and headed out. The afternoon streets were alive with tourists and workers. September was always my favourite month in Paris. The August shut down left the city refreshed, and with a month left of fair weather the city's pulse could be felt through the rhythms of the hustle and bustle. I took her hand as we turned on to the Champs-Élysées. Her hips brushed me with each step of her right leg. Her relaxed sway sending small ripples over her entire body. She caught sight of a colourful patisserie up a side street and without asking began gravitating toward it. 

In true Parisian style, we were practically ignored by our waiter. Her fingers began tapping on the table as I tried to keep her distracted and the mood sweet. I was describing my love for the city, thanking her for getting me away from the stress of my job but she was distracted by the long counter behind me. 

Excusing herself she marched over and getting the attention of the girl proceeded to order everything that took her fancy. I stayed seated watching her from a side angle as her eyes lit up with each slice that was added to the tray. She then headed back over with the same grin I had seen on her face the first weekend we met.

"I thought I'd dive us in at the deep end" she declared flatly. "You know how I love the sweeter things. Well Paris has some of the sweetest things I know."

The tray was set down with two glasses of black coffee and two forks. Seven plates, each carrying a fine pastry teased into shape until it was as much sculpture as it was sustenance. 

"Take your pick." She paused. Her eyes fixed on mine and her tone deepened, "And feed it to me."

I'd never heard those words before. They were strange but not alien. There was a demand and a surrender in the request. I shaved an inch of gateau from its point and hesitantly offered it to her lips. Lust filled her eyes as she parted her lips. She stared at me as she lowered them around the morsel. "mmm. More." 

I obliged. This time mille feuille. As it approached her mouth she paused it by taking the stem between her forefinger and thumb, the end of the fork still in my hand. She then licked the creme before taking it all in to her mouth.

Bite after bite the show continued. I was hypnotised. The eroticism of her act of gluttony overwhelmed me. I was entirely unaware of the tables along side but was fixated on her.

Two thirds of the way through she took a pause and struck up the conversation.

"I find it so sexy when you feed me"

"P, pardon?" I knew the statement was true. The last ten minutes were testimony to that. But to hear it spoken: that was shocking.

"Eating. Gourmandising, is one of life most underrated joys. We enjoy a concert publicly and people don't mind. We cry and laugh at the ballet. We stare for hours at scenes expressed on canvas, but the spectacle of enjoying food, and ALL, that comes with it, that, that is almost taboo. And that's what makes is soooo sweet." I was unaware that I had given my reaction. My chin rested on my hand and I was nodding subtly to every word she had said. "I could see you enjoyed feeding me. Watching me enjoy my food. Tell me the truth. Do the results of my pleasure stir anything in you?" She stroked her bulging tummy.

I was taken aback. Leaning back in the chair and placing my hands on the armrests I became defensive in posture and mind. We were in unfamiliar territory. A foreign land. One bedroom, no hope of retreat to a sanctuary if I messed up, no hope that I could evade the question for 3 days. I was cornered. I had to respond. "If by stir you mean anything but my own pleasure. No." I was playing it cool. 

"I know you like me. But do you like the changes in me?"

Again I was on the back foot. This time I chose to think about my answer. Did I? 

There was no denying that my passion grew with each passing day, but was that just part of getting to know each other? 

There no fooling she was bigger. Much bigger. At least two dress sizes from the day she came in to the office. Did I like it? In isolation I couldn't say. But did I prefer her now to the first night: definitely.

I replied: "You are more alluring today than you were yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. I'm not sure what the reason is. But keep up the trend and you've got me for good."

Her face grew a tad sterner. I hadn't given her a straight enough answer. So she pushed for one," Do you like that I'm growing fattt?" The final word lingered. 

I thought again. "Yes." I did.

"Good." She said sultrily. "I've been growing myself through pleasure for years." Her eyes surveyed her body. "A lot of pleasure. And I'm not done."

I reached for my coffee. The cup was cold but my mouth was too dry to care. I didn't break her stare. I don't know why I said it but something in me roused: "I. I like that you're not". She nodded and ordered the check.

The hotel room was decorated in deep crimson. A boudoir that framed her growing frame. I had to lift her warm rolls with both hands to reveal my prize. She was slick to the touch. Her smell filled up my senses. Her thighs were now so wide they squeezed my body in to hers. That afternoon I experienced the pleasure of her mass on me. Her belly sliding up and down my chest with each thrust . She sweated and struggled her hands highlighted her corpulence. She stroked and held her breasts and belly like a prize. Each squeeze highlighted the slight cellulite on her oozing mound. I felt my balls tighten as we got closer. She was moaning and panting. The sensation of her belly rubbing up and down me pushing me closer and closer. Her pussy tight as she reached her climax and within seconds I was pulsing inside her hot fat mound of a pussy. 

She eased herself off me and walked over to the minibar. 

"We're a great match you and I" She was still breathing heavily, each breath animating her glistening flabby form. 

"We sure are". I was still unable to move.

"I want to share something with you." She walked over to her case and withdrew a laptop. Opening it she made her way back to the bed. She loaded a folder called Untitled. "This is the story of my gain in photographs" She opened a random image. She was once very small. "This is me before I discovered my love of fat" She opened the next one "This is how I discovered it". It was her next to a behemoth of a man. I took a close look. The man was almost as wide as he was tall. Piercing blue eyes framed in a fattened face. His face sat above a rounded double chin which melted in to his chest. His round moobs bulging in his t-shirt. These were supported by his hanging gut that flattened out over his thighs. "This is Alex. He was my first feeder"

"Feeder? as in the one who fattened you up?" I was surprised at how jealous I felt.

"Well, kind of, yes. I also fattened him. We were a gaining couple. I met him online in a student support forum. We never exchanged photos but we did exchange jokes. During summer break we decided to meet up to talk about career paths. He was 230lbs then. By this picture he was not." She looked at me remembering that this was the first time we had spoken about previous relationships. "Are you..."




Men Are From Mars



I interrupted. "Did you, like, him that size? I mean either 230 or whatever he is in this pic?" She Nodded. "I see"

"That's not the point." She said softly. "He loved his body and his confidence in it attracted me to him. He would take joy in eating and that led him to gain a lot of weight." She pointed back at the screen. "I asked him how he felt and he told me I should try it. I had already put on a few pounds being around him and from my student diet of late night pizza and energy drinks so I thought I'd take a less passive approach for a month and see where it got me. And eventually this is where it got me" She gestured toward her body.

I smiled at her. She looked nervous as if she feared she had made a mistake in revealing this to me. I had an idea to put her mind at rest. "Show me more of your gain. I find it sexy". It worked. She began opening folders within folders loading pictures of the last 3 years.

"This one is when I finally got my belly to overhang", "And this one is when I could finally call myself obese" She declared the latter with such great pride it made me giggle. The picture of her belly hang stirred me again. She was pulling down on the bottom of her belly. It just folded over her panty line. I pictured it growing lower to where it rested now: completely covering her panties. The thought of her growing made me hard again. "I'm so glad you're so in to this. I don't think I could be in a relationship with a guy who didn't love fat." She started toying with my stiffening dick. "Let me show you more". She opened another folder. All the jpegs were called feed followed by a number. She started at the first. "This pic gets me off". My dick jumped when I focused on the pic. It was her at about 180lbs lying on a bed stuffing a donut in her mouth. Her belly clearly distended. Her left hand playing with her plump mound through her panties. "I would do this twice a day. Stuff myself until I could barely take it, and then make myself cum so hard I'd shiver at the slightest touch for minutes afterward". You could tell the sexual excitement in her face as she described the scene. It was the same lustful look that she had in the photo. "The great thing about doing this is that it made me eat more and more each time. Until I got to here" She took my hand and placed it over her navel. Returning to her previous motion she continued her teasing of my now throbbing member.

"Don't you love the way it feels?"

I nodded. It was so sensual, so warm. It multiplied her very essence. "I'd never have thought that I'd be saying this but I love it. I love your fat"

She moved slightly close to me, my hand slipping deeper in to her softness. "Close your eyes." The command was calm and sultry. A dark whisper I felt complied to obey. "I want you to imagine something. Feel my folds with your fingers. stroke my rolls. Visualise this belly in your hands." I began to picture what I was feeling. Her toying with my cock became a rhythmic stroking up and down the underside of my shaft. I twitched. "How do you feel? Are you, aroused?" I swallowed and nodded. This was new, hypnotic, spellbinding. "Lift it from underneath and feel its weight. Feel how it moulds to your hand, draping round your palm" she began to grip me as her slow rhythm continued. "Now, I want to take you somewhere different. Keep your eyes close and let your mind wander." her rhythm quickened slightly as she began to work further up toward the tip. I could feel I was oozing precum as her hand descended. "Imagine you're sitting on your bed at home. We're alone. You can see my face smiling at you as I stroke you, like this." she was practically purring as her grip tightened a little. "Keep kneading my belly." 

It was getting intense, I could feel the tension building as her pace quickened. "Now I want you to do something for me. Just a little something." I was too aroused to respond with anything more than a moan. "Imagine all that fat in your hands, that warm sensual fat. Imagine it was yours. That soft belly moved with your every move. Gave you weight. Rested on your thighs, massaging your cock when you moved." 

I didn't know what to do or say. I was too close to do anything. "Imagine you are fat." With that she pumped me hard a vigorously until I came all over my body. 

I gradually snapped out of my stupor. The mix of emotions running through me was so intense. Clouded by the relief I'd just experienced I focused on her mouth. She was grinning again. Reaching out with her hand she stroked my face. "So?" She asked.

I was feeling defensive. "So what?". She'd gone too far. Or had she. She said she loved fat. Maybe this was something she needed right now.

"So, how did that make you feel?".

I still had no response. I was honest. "I need time to think."

"I'm sorry but I had to do it. I can see it in you. You love fat. Like I love fat. It's natural. There're a lot of people who do. But not that many of them take the leap I have. I just want you to think about it."

"Think about what" I knew her answer already but I did not want to lead this conversation

"You know. About BEING fat. Fat like me. Fat with me."

"I.." I honestly had no answer. I simply shut up and let her continue.

"If you'd let me. I'd like to show you what it's like to be as free as I am to enjoy myself" She moved closer. "To eat, to grow. To feel yourself move against your own thighs." She was getting excited. "I want to help grow you. Turn you in to a gourmand like I am. Watch your belly soften then sag. Feel the pleasure you feel of having it rest on me as I give you pleasure. Watch your body get enveloped in this wonderful jelly. Make you hard by moving your belly. I want to make you complete" She was impassioned. "Just try it", She whispered. "I know you'll love it".

My heart raced at the realisation that we had 2 more nights together before I could seek the sanctuary of my own place. I was psychologically marooned in the city ocean. No media distractions I could understand, no familiar faces to be my crutch. I was staring change in the face, my back against a wall. Was it a friend or foe? 

"How do you know?" I asked plainly. I wanted to test if this was just a sexual stupor or if she was seriously inviting me to gain weight. I knew she had it in her. Her ex was a sure sign of that. But who was leading who into larger sizes?

"I know, sweetie, because I've watched you. I've been with you intimately without your guard up. I've seen the look in your eyes when you enjoy a meal. It's in you. You just need to set it free." 

I don't know if what she was saying was true or if it was simply a phantom of her desires. Either way that night shaped our relationship in to everything that it became.

She settled backward as if in retreat. She probably felt as unsure as I did at that moment but she tried not to show it. "We have 2 more days" she began, "Two days for you to sample my life style without risk of anyone but me seeing it." She started subtly nodding, "We wouldn't want you to leave Paris without having experienced all it has to offer. You can eat to excess in the city where people come to eat! And, if I'm right, you can discover yourself."

She made a compelling case. Paris at the time was home to more award winning restaurants than any other city on the planet. It was the foodie's mecca. At least I could show her I was overindulging for the next two days. And at the same time I could sample some of the world's greatest flavours. If I changed my mind then I could call the whole thing off when we returned to London. The risks were low, the potential upside was high. The costs were minimal. This was a good deal. "Shall we call concierge and get them to find us a table somewhere?"

She was ecstatic. She began clapping her hands together rapidly in an animated fashion, her billowy upper arms reverberating her joyous motion. "I knew you'd say yes. I promise to make this weekend the best of your life!"

Her excitement was getting the better of her as we got ready. In the shower she began stroking my stomach. "This is the way to a man's heart. And you have a big heart" She wanted to keep me excited about everything. She was practically babbling about the intimacy of it all and the bonding we were doing. It was all a little much but I kept a brave face. There was not a moments silence as we put on our clothes and headed to the lobby. The concierge was a friendly portly fellow from the south. He had the Marsaillais twang and was keen to talk about his country's great culinary history. He had selected a restaurant he saw fitting for a couple who wished to experience the best Paris had to offer in traditional surroundings. He said they didn't offer a tasting menu but if we mentioned Hugo sent us they could put something together. Thanking him for his service we entered a cab and a stunning 15 minutes taxi ride later we arrived at Le Relais. It was as he described: traditional in every decorative detail. The walls like a tudor home had visible wooden pillars and beams. Our table was low lit and felt intimate. The stage was set for a romantic evening.

Kate was keen to get started and beckoned the waiter. Teasing me under the table with her foot she created a tasting menu consisting of 3 appetisers, a middle course, followed by the beef rib for two. The waiter looked both surprised and pleased. Summoning the sommelier he proceeded to the maitre d'maison's post and appeared to be conversing with him about us for a good 5 minutes. "I think he thinks we've gone mad!" I whispered.

"I think he thinks we're critics." she replied knowledgeably. She'd obviously been in this situation before.

The sommelier was a dry fellow but clearly enjoyed his job. He asked us how much wine we would like. I took charge this time and asked for a match per course and for him to suggest providing the bottles weren't extortionate. Kate added an aperitif of pastis to the order. Closing the menu he bowed with a smile and proceeded to his decanting table. 

Even before the food arrived I felt a sense of achievement. Knowing I was about to eat more than I'd ever ate before didn't phase me. It felt right. I was not sat staring at a mound of junk food. I was doing something that was acceptable. I was sampling the finest food in the city of love with a girl I was falling for. All seemed right. The pastis was set down. It's milky white colour clouding the glass and my judgement. "This helps build the appetite. It will help reduce the feeling of bloating as you go on too. Which will help you finish." her sole was massaging between my legs for the whole statement. 

As the first dishes arrived I started to realise I may have tackled a little more than I thought. 

Like with the patisserie, each dish was as much art as a meal. The physical size of each dish did not set as much of a challenge as the richness of the food. Salted butter and cream sauces topped meats which sat on fried croutons. Some with foiegras, some with cheese. All a delight but not for the weak palleted. The sweet wine that married the savoury were sublime. But for all the grandiose dining going on above table, the white cloth hid a taboo underpinning to the entire meal. Dish after dish, course after course we appeared the epitome of upper middle class pomp, describing each dish and comparing with other restaurants we had visited; all the while her foot was keeping me on edge, running up and down my member which was pressed hard against the fabric of my trouser. 

Of course this was not the only strain they were feeling. My belt was already undone and I was rapidly running out of space as the cheese course arrived. Sweating slightly - partly from the strain of overeating, partly from the tension in my loins - I pushed my way through. But it was not over: 

Desert was a sampling platter in itself with two mini versions of all eight offerings dividing the table. I looked at her and looked down at the platter with defeat. "I..."

"You're not done yet." She interjected coldly "They're ALL yours except the mille-feuile. I'll coach you through". 

I was running out of space for my lungs but she was relentless. "One bite for one stroke". I tested her. A chocolate bombe. I took half on my fork and put it to my lips. The moment it passed through I felt her. I repeated. so did she. Again and again, I was so caught up in it. Everything visible to the patrons was normal. Everything I could feel was not. By waist band was taught, by breathing laboured, my boxers wet. She was right. I did love this. She got all she said in to me, and all she predicted out of me. We were done there but far from done for the evening.

It was a slow walk to the cab. Even with a complimentary stiff drink of poirwilliams I felt inflated. In the back of the cab Kate quietly cooed over the damage done. My tummy pushed against 4 buttons of my blue shirt, my trousers were undone and my lower gut pressing on the zipper. "Round one was yours sweetie. You owned it!" She seemed as pleased with herself as she did with my efforts. She began stroking my midsection. I stifled a belch. "Who my sexy glutton?" I could tell by her tone she was ready for the bedroom.

In the cab she began giving me my reward. "Always stroke it in a counter clockwise motion" she began circle in my paunch with her palm. "Think of it like an exercise in coordination." Her other hand joined in on my crotched. Slowly and firmly she began teasing me in to an upright state. "That's it. Feel your fullness getting you aroused!" Her words like a siren drew me to her touch. 

Exiting the cab I was too far gone to care if the people in the lobby could see my excitement. Through the lobby and in to the elevator, I was feeling lighter on my feet with anticipation of what was to come. 

Sitting was a chore, but she knew how to relieve me of my discomfort. She began sliding my trousers off. The weight of my distended gut drew my eyes to it. The damage was minimal. A slight paunch. Nothing to reflect the bloated feeling I was experiencing. Looking up I was greeted with her mischievous grin.

"Time to some weight training." She sounded sultry as she continued, "I'm going to make you crave this feeling as much as you crave me." Her hand toyed with her love handle that was shaping her dress. 

Dropping the strap off her shoulder she began to undress herself. "I think I see a little more space in there. I bet I can find it" Her dress dropped to the floor revealing her plump flesh. "Sit back sweetie. While I find some supplies" 

She waddled over the fridge. I instinctually knew what was coming and didn't care to fight it. I was sated but if she wanted to try she could feed me more. Emerging with a box of six truffles she made her to the bed. "Comfy?" 

I moaned. Of all the sensations I was experiencing comfort was not at the top of the list. "Such a greedy man. I think you deserve a reward".

As gracefully as her ample form allowed she lowered her mouth to my cock. Lightly licking the tip she smiled "Mmmm. Tastes sooo good." She took me in her mouth. Her saliva lubing my member which was having no problems overcoming the fading discomfort in my abdomen. "Eat for me. Feed yourself. Make yourself grow for me and I will give you pleasure like you've never felt before." 

She was working my head with her well trained tongue. I opened the box and placed a chocolate in my mouth. She paused "Good boy. Now chew" I broke the outer layer and she went back to her task. I was on edge by then third and was barely aware of how full I was.

"Picture yourself stuffing your face, your body billowing out below as you lay back on the bed. Image your future, your fat engulfing you." Her mouth returned to my dick as I stuffed the four and fifth in my mouth at the same time. I was truly picturing it. I wanted it. I wanted to look down and see my belly hiding her. I wanted to have a body like her ex did. I wanted to be fat just to see the lust in her eyes. I grabbed the final one as I began to pulse. As it started she reached her hand to my balls and with one finger gland my no go zone. The spasm as I came was so intense my hip crack as I bucked, She pushed me down using her weight pinning me by my hips as I pumped my load in to her mouth. I was seeing stars. The crimson of the room warming my vision as the relief raised in to my head. I was spent.

As I lay their I felt her breath on my cheek. Kissing me warmly she whispered, "My Fatty."

I lay their yet again a changed man. She had led me to the edge, but I had jumped over. I felt like I was in free fall. I had just came imagining myself morbidly obese. It was the most deviant thing I had ever experienced. 

The weekend went on in a similar manner. She would order room service before and after each outing. There outings were a symphony for the senses with the sights and sounds of Paris being decorated by excess. "You're finding this easier" she declared during our final lunch. Again she was right. I had eaten practically an entire 12 slice gateau within 24 hour plus all the meals. Every time I had stuffed myself, she stuffed me some more, then emptied my balls back at the hotel room. The pleasure pain balance had shifted and the discomfort no longer registered.

The week after we got back I noticed few changes in my size but a definite difference in my appetite. I was snacking constantly. On Wednesday I got a phone call from her in the evening. She asked me to put her on speakerphone as I ate. I felt dirty as I followed her instruction. Her tone dripped sex "Take a bite." She heard me chew, "Now stroke yourself inside your pants" I followed her instruction. "That's is dirty boy. mmmmm."She moaned, "I'm getting so hot. Do it again for me." 

I did: A whole 20" Pizza passed my lips. "Now you've eaten 6000calories. That's a pound of delicious fat. Now, cum for me." My hand was on autopilot following her instruction. I came in my boxers with a smile at how dirty I felt. 

It wasn't a long while until the effects began to take their toll. Little by little my waist band was growing tighter, issuing in a new size. We celebrated each change in size with dinner in bed. 

Sitting face to face, legs apart her belly resting on the top sheet we fed each other. Her encouraging me exploration of both of our growing bodies. On my graduation to 36" pants she led me through an ordeal I still dream of today. 

It was a Friday. She had been in the office but I couldn't get off the desk to see her. A text flashed on my screen as her meeting was due to start 'How's my growing man?' 

I now knew how to get her going, '36s no belt. Shall we give the liver a rest for a w/e?'

The reply was short, 'my place, 2200.' 

Her apartment lighting was dimmed. Candles guided me to the bedroom from where her seductive voice called, "This way sweetie."

I kicked off my shoes and proceeded toward the door. As I passed the threshold I my advance was halted by the sight that greeted me. She stood, in all her 315lbs naked glory aside a table laden with confectionary. The sheer quantity blocked my vision of half of the bed. I surveyed the serving: Chocolate Truffles, Laduree Macarons, fancies, Small ganache covered cubes, different colors and shapes set on tiered trays glistening in the candle light like three fondant Christmas trees under which candied presents covering the wooden floor.

"I hope you're ready"

Guiding me down on to the bed, I felt her dominance, her weight. "Make yourself comfortable." She propped me up against the back board. Her hypnotic sway had me entranced as she made her way to the table. "It's one for me and one for you tonight". 

Picking up one of the tiered trays she surveyed my state. Her eyes resting on my now softened middle. A nod, a smile and she was ready to begin. "Tonight I'm going to try keep you on the edge. You're gonna beg me to finish you but your hands are only to feed and please me. Just as mine are only to feed and tease you." 




Men Are From Mars



She sat next to me placing the tiers of the tray side by side on the bed. "One for you." She placed a chocolate macaron at my lips. I willingly opened. Her hand rewarded me. 

Following in turn I offered her her first mouthful. Her reward was different. Eager to progress I caressed her womanhood with my tongue. Moaning she grabbed another sugared offering. She looked driven. One wasn't enough for her. Pushing me backward, she proceed to fill my mouth with an assortment and as I began to chew she began to lick. My cheeks bulged and I struggled to widen my jaw enough to chew. I was at full attention by the time I swallowed. "Good, Now one for me".

I could barely contain myself. I picked up a larger ganache goodie and thrust it at her awaiting mouth. She chewed decadently her tongue tracing her lips to her eyes rolling back. Reaching behind my head she pulled me on to her mass. Her soft layers of fat moistened with a sheen of sweat. Her chocolate covered tongue entwined with mine. She was grinding her hips and moaning.

"Eat fat boy eat. Eat while I fuck you." Her tone a hypnotic whisper. A faint frenzy of lust. I could smell her, taste her, feel her as she cushioned me. I rolled on to my back as she positioned herself. Her growing belly resting on mine, she reached for more food and laid it on my chest. Slowly she began grinding against me. "Open wide".

Willingly I opened and she filled me as my member filled her. I was rock hard and struggling to keep cool. "Shhhh" she calmed be "Take it slow, Let me do the work while you feed yourself" I locked gaze with her and mirroring her methods lowered a macaroon in to my mouth, then another, then another. Slowly I chewed as she began to wind her hips rhythmically. Her weight sinking her ample ass in to my quads, her dimpled cheeks overflowing their seat oozed back and forth with her flowing movement. 

It didn't stop. It grew as I knew I was growing. Mouthful after mouthful I swallowed as her motion went from smooth to rough. My belly aching from the sheer volume it now contained was unprepared for her as she lowered her ample upper body on to mine. I was engulfed in her fat as we went from tease to full gear. Her corpulence made waves, we were sweating our hands again exploring each other's growth. I began to peak. Gripping each cheek hard I pulled her further on to me. 

She moaned as I did. My throb to her tightening. Like electric we finished. Our hearts practically audible. I could say nothing as we both kissed. Bliss.

It was another 8 months before my gain finally set in properly. By this point I was starting to get noticeably big. I had taken to weight training for short periods of time to keep up my strength but through her instruction and what she had nicknamed "The Sumo Diet" The body I sported a year prior was long gone. 

One Wednesday morning I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I had woken up early. I was ravenous but Kate had insisted that I skipped breakfast and only ate just before the start of the trading session. The fast worked. My metabolism had slowed and before my in the bathroom mirror were the results. Looking straight ahead my belly overhung a tad. My pecs although in their strongest condition of my life were hidden below flattened pockets of fat. I touched my right nipple. I could sink my finger in a half inch before feeling any muscle tone. My thighs had started to rub at the top and had already worn through my 40" suit pants. Looking down I could no long see my dick unless I has hard. The first time I noticed it I kept it to myself. I was almost ashamed of what I was doing to myself but at the same time exceptionally turned on.

The look wasn't all. The feeling of my body was what had changed most. It reacted to my touch differently. I moulded to my surroundings. Kate had made me take my time pinching and squeezing my ass love handles. Sitting down one evening she blind folded me and took me on a tour of my new body. 

"Begin with your thighs. Squeeze them, move your new fat." I obeyed. I was growing soft. Very soft "Now to your belly. Feel it creeping along your thighs, your love handles are starting to fold. It's so... Sexy" She began stroking my cock. "Now your moobs. Grab them. Move them. Do you feel what you're becoming. mmmm, so...fat" 

She was right. I left my hands wander then she stopped her tease "That's enough it's time to eat".

It was incredibly sensual. I was in love with her for what she was doing to me. I needed more and more to satisfy me at a meal. The numbers on my scale came by like victories. The same elation I would get from a good trading day I now got from breaking thresholds. 200lbs was the first but not my last. I was 250 by Christmas, 270 by the following Easter. 

It was then that she started to reveal her fantasies.

It was a lazy Sunday morning. I'd had the Friday off due to the holiday and we'd spent the weekend in the country. The bathroom at the country house was a true his and hers with a shower that comfortably fit us as a larger couple in. The fittings in steel and ceramic echoed a simpler time when the property would have once served as a home for a hard working farming family. We loved to come out here to relax. The cooing of wood pigeon being a welcomed break from the hum of London traffic. Condensation dripped from the sash windows, the droplets racing their way under gravity toward the off white sill. Our morning was that of a coupe in deep lust and after our antics we had decided to shower off before heading to a local pub for brunch. The outside world was blue green and crisp and in here we were cocooned in our post coital glow.

I was lathering up when she started her confession. "Do you like my belly?"

I knew she knew the answer so her question put me on the back foot. "You know I love your belly. And I know you love mine. You did after all grow it" 

She smiley coyly and rubbed my ever growing fold. "mmm, that I did"

"Why did you ask?" I had to know the deeper meaning. My head filled with panic as the possibility that she her seemingly permanent love of fat may be waning. That would have spelled disaster for both of us. We were heavily invested in her lifestyle and it had underpinned so many other aspects of our life. It wasn't everything but it was a lot to us. We weren't just a fat couple. We were a couple through fat. 

"I was just thinking..." she paused. My heart began to dread, like a drum roll my pulse began to quicken. What had I done? I had transformed myself in to a blob of a man and now it could all be for what? For whom? 

"What were you thinking?" I almost snapped. 

"Sit down I want to talk about something that's been on my mind for a while" 

Was this it? I tempest of emotion turfed my thoughts in to a chaotic heap. Ramblings, arguments, pleas, they were all fighting for centre stage in preparation for here revelation. If she were to leave, I thought, what would I do?

"I was thinking about my fetish and how you've been keen to go along for a ride so far. But no matter how hard I try to suppress it. It goes deeper than just a little weight gain."

I was biting at the bit to hear the resolve, "Deeper?" I pried. She was wary and her caution was retarding her usual forward manner. Patience, the virtue which I held most high, was currently dithering in the corner of my mind, her usual calming words a whisper amongst the clammer. 

"Shall we sit down on the bed and talk about it?"

I nodded and threw on my bath robe. 

"What is it?" My tone cracking as I tried to appear stoic.

"Well, do you remember my ex-boyfriend from the pictures?" I indicated that I did, "If you remember he was somewhat larger than you at the time we broke up. Well not somewhat, quite a lot."

"And... I'm on my way"

She interrupted, "And so was he. You see that's the point. He was on his way."

I was relieved that this was not a breakup but I had to delve deeper and fast, "On his way to what?"

"Listen sweetie. Let me explain my dream. I know it may seem silly or even crazy but it's a dream." Crazy? Crazier than me doubling my weight in less than two years? Crazier than her weighing 340lbs and still feeling like she is emaciated. I prepared for a shock. "I always dreamed of not just being fat, but being one of the fattest couples. I mean we're getting serious now. Very serious. I wasn't going to say anything but I saw you looking at rings on the internet and I know what's coming." She had caught me. It was true I had been contemplating going a step further but I was more trying the concept on that committing to it. I felt ready but I had my doubts due to the alternative nature of our lifestyle. The very thoughts that fear had thrown in to the air at the start of our conversation were the ones that held me back. What if she grew out of this fetish? What if we broke up? Would I be happy without her at this size? I mean I could no longer get aroused without thinking of come thing related to gaining or fat. Where was this all leading? Where was she leading me now?

"What are you trying to say?" I inquired in an assuring, relaxed tone.

"I want to let you know where I hope we are gaining to. I mean we will have to stop some time but I kind of have an idea where I want that time to be and it's gonna sound, well, weird. I want your pleasure to be solely in my hands and mine solely in yours." She was submissive. Pleading almost. Looking up at me.

"Well, if, it's going to the ring stage that's kinda the point no?" I smiled sympathetically 

"Well yeah, but this is a physical sort of thing." She inhaled deep and shut her eyed. Her left hand clenched as she slowly nodded, willing the words out of her mouth she began, "I want us to" She was breathing fasting, almost in fear, "I want us to be well. Please don't judge me...I want us to be too fat to fuck." She was almost in shock as she spat out the last sentence.

I was in a state of confusion. She was the most sexually active woman I'd known. Kate, the love of my life and the lust of my loins was now saying she no longer wanted my loins. "Wha?" I couldn't complete the question. It was all very odd. "What do you mean."

She seemed calmer that I was calm but still cautious, "Not permanently. And hear me out. Imagine for a brief while in our lives we were both so big that we couldn't pleasure ourselves. That we relied on each other to pleasure, each other." She was slowing her speech down and making more eye contact than before. "We'd experience something that no other couple have so far as I can tell. It would be something new and different. Intimate in the most extreme way."

I wasn't happy. But I loved her. I loved her deeply but this was a leap that I didn't know I could take. "Let's think this through. You want to grow me so fat that I can't reach down there, And you want to do the same?" She nodded almost smiling. "I'm not saying no but what about say hygiene, mobility."

"We'd help each other. And as I said. It's only for the experience. Once we are bored of it we can lose the weight. We'd stay strong so the mobility wouldn't be a big issue. The hygiene, well back in the US we have a lot of aides at regular pharmacies that work great from wands to sprays. Hell we could get a Japanese toilet. Just think about it. Think about the adventure it would be. Think about the intimacy."

 

My only reply: "It's a lot to think about."

It was a month until we spoke about it again. I had practically buried my head in the sand and just focused on regaining some normality. I was also aware of a change in her attitude. It was almost like a part of her was crushed. Her confidence had receded and she almost felt somewhat submissive. Our gaining hadn't slowed down but there was a caution in our feeding sessions. I knew it had to be resolved before it ruined our relationship for good.

She meant too much to me for that to happen. I had resigned myself to looking at it as a fantasy. A pipe dream that wouldn't ever manifest but it was so strongly tied to her that I had to keep the dream alive. The least I could do would be play along. 

"Guess what?" I said exiting the bathroom. 

She smiled at me, taking in my half-dressed form. She tilted her head back and raised her eyebrows, I continued, "This little pet project of yours" I lifted my now substantial gut, "has finally made ground" She looked confused. Again silent, but intrigued she tilted her chin and furrowed her brow.

I proceeded to get down on all fours to relieve her of her quandary. I had been at my new milestone for a while but I hadn't shown her for fear of having to face a return to her questionable dream. I let what she was seeing sink in before asking "Can you see daylight under me?"

She immediately got up and swaying her hips as she strutted across the room let out a low, "mmmmmmm". It had the animalistic tone that had been missing for the past few weeks. She circled round me eyeing me up. I smiled and began to rise. Standing over my kneeling body she spoke, "How does it feel to be such a gluttonous piggy that your belly drags the floor? When did you last see your cock big man? I've been feeling your gut resting on my head when I suck you dry for two weeks now and you know what? I want to feel it again right now."

Her confidence was returning as she rolled me on to my back and made good on her word. She parted my legs and began working my shaft her greedy tongue working its magic, "Hold your belly with both hands!" She was firm as she dived back in, teasing my tip whilst kneading my soft new flesh. You could tell her excitement as she took me deep in her mouth and tried to pleasure herself. I had to have her. Pushing her off me I dove between her legs. We rolled around passionately until we were both spent. I lay staring at the ceiling sweating.

Turning my head to face her I saw her staring at me.

"So." I began

"So" she questioned.

"So, about that fantasy of yours. Were you serious?"

Her eyes narrowed. She was trying to read me. It must have weighed heavily in her mind because we were open about everything up until that point. Embarrassing childhood secrets, immature fads, not to mention our evident trust in each other in the dining room. But this was our first hurdle. One which, despite my near 300lbs frame, I was ready to leap. Before she could formulate a response I thought I'd disarm the situation, "I think, having had a month to mull it over, that it's hot. I mean the bigger we get the more exciting everything gets and as you said it won't be permanent. And if it gets too much on the way then we can stop. So, if you were serious..." her eyes stayed narrow as she began nodding, "then let's talk this through seriously"

We both raised to our feet and silently walked to the kitchen. I made tea while she settled herself at the table, placing the steaming mug down in front of her I positioned myself across the table and gestured for her to begin.

"I, I honestly thought..." she was still hesitant, "I honestly thought that I'd over stepped the line."

"You did. But maybe that line needs to be crossed. We're not a vanilla couple, and let's face it we're having a lot of fun"

Still trying to play it as cool as she could she continued, "We are, and I think if you hear me out fully this could be an incredible experience. Basically we'd be fully reliant on each other. It would be so bonding. I mean I'm not talking about being too big to move, but just where we'd have to help each other with some day to day stuff. Then there's the kinky side of the adventure in the bedroom. The frustration of all that fat will make us really think alternatively about our mutual pleasure." Her meter was staring to increase as she loosened up. "I reckon at 500lbs we'd be there. Just think of how we'd look and feel! I mean it's not something I haven't thought long and hard about. I've got a game plan. It would be like a long vacation from normality. Everybody travels, or meditates or climbs a mountain, but this would be like going to a place that few venture and I just know that it could be, well, ecstasy."

I studied her face. She was eager for my response but still scared of what I may say. Could I do it? Did I want to? At that particular moment looking back I can't say if I had made my mind up or not but I knew I wanted to please her so my answer was brief, "Then shall we make a start?"

"Really?" she said breaking in to a smile. 

"Really."

There are three times thus far in our lives that I have seen Kate cry (or at least while sober), and this was one. In my statement I had granted her her deepest desire and over the coming months she never failed to show her gratitude.

We set some ground rules. We could push each other past our normal limits. We both had come clean about our love of stretch marks so speed wasn't off the cards. Finally if one of us for three consecutive days had voiced a want to stop, then we'd both take a pause and talk it through as the goal was mutual and one stopping would mean forfeiting our deviant prize.

We celebrated our pact with cheesecake and toasted to what was now "our dream".

The first month was slow. Her game plan involved weekends in our bathrobes eating less than healthy foods in ridiculous portions. Pizzas, burgers, kebabs, all things I hadn't put passed my lips before 3am since my student days.

I felt sick but I pushed through. She'd made a game out of increasing our calorie consumption in an aim to get us to her dream goal in as little time as possible. Twelve thousand calories a day was the aim. Her methods of getting there were less orthodox than before I'd agreed to this madness. Shakes were her secret weapon. Her naked behind pinning me to the bed, her belly pushing in to mine she'd hold a 1 gallon bottle to my lips and grind her soft heavy flesh in to me. The first time I came before I could finish even a pint but her persuasions got better. I was getting to a point where I could feel my newly increased limit being tested but she was insistent The bigger we got the more of our bodies oozed against each other and the more subtle her movements needed to be for me to feel their effects. 

There were no more weight goals, this was all size based. We had to keep strong and relatively fit too so we bought a fat yoga series which we kept up with 4 times a week.

Then it happened: 2008. It was pandemonium in the office that afternoon. All hands on deck. We were one of the lucky firms that hadn't bought in to the idiocy of subprime but the axe still came swinging for high paid heads and as I was more than financially comfortable, I was happy to offer mine on to the block in exchange for my golden parachute.

I was free, but the shock of seeing so many of my colleagues, friends and family being affected by the fallout snapped me out of my gaining stupor.

"Bunny?" A nickname that had been gradually taking hold due to her bouncy nature since the start of our quest, "I want to stop for a bit." She looked at me puzzled, "you know, to refocus. It's been a bad month."

She stared at me, her face almost bemused. "So, what you're saying is: because you're feeling a little low, you want to stop doing something you find fun?" The statement was almost mocking but her delivery was light enough for it to feel jovial. "I know it's been tough sweetie, but don't beat yourself up over it all. Especially not by taking away your pleasures. You're free. We have the means, you've always wanted to trade off your own back. And even if you don't, we have all we need. Plus, I promise to make things more exciting"

She cupped me, "You don't really want to stop do you? Not while we're having so much fun." 

Her charms were working, my reservations gradually subsiding, "Well, I'm not going to get another job looking like this, and, well, what if we need one?"

"Seriously? I mean are you serious? Look around you. How could you possibly say that? There are people right now losing their only homes and we live here, oh, but not at the weekend, where we're at our other home, and not in the summer when we're at our Italy home, oh and not when we had to redecorate when we stayed at my old place to avoid the horror of the smell of fresh paint. I know you're my greedy piggy, but I think you need to have a reality check. Everything we need we already have. Let work on something we want."