chapter 14

Carter started eating even more. The snacking while he worked on his novel increased; he basically didn't stop once he started. It was basically a constant influx of fattening food. Traditionally, he and Sydney took walks and short hikes around their property several times a week for a bit of exercise. These were getting harder for Carter, however, and so they were getting shorter. First of all, trudging through the snow was a challenge and made Carter feel twice the weight that he was. Secondly, his snow jacket couldn't zip up, although this wasn't much of a problem because Carter got so overheated while waddling around through the snow that he hardly needed a coat anyway.

Each night when Carter began the huge dinner that he and Sydney cooked together, he began with restraint and dignity, respectfully savoring the taste of the dinner they put together with love. As the meal went on, however, and he felt the increasing pressure of his waistband on his obese belly, he became a bit greedier. After seconds and thirds, he was going crazy with food lust. He discarded the notion of utensils and shoveled more and more in. Sydney was there to make sure everything was within his reach and that he wasn't making too much of a mess. Eventually, he would get worn out and too full. Sydney would lead him over to the sofa where she could lift up his taut shirt and administer a rub to his round belly.

Those belly rubs were Sydney's secret weapon. Without them, she knew that Carter would never agree to any dessert after being such a fat porker at dinner. But her soft hands gliding around his warm, plump flesh reminded Carter that there was always more food waiting for his rotund figure.

Eventually, he'd be served something heavy and delicious, like a dark chocolate muffin, topped off with warm chocolate syrup. His mouth would water and he would consume it quickly, obliviously ending with dark crumbs all down his straining white t-shirt. He would tell Sydney that he was done, that he had had enough, but she knew that was a lie. He could pig out much more than that. He protested as she served him more. She started feeing him herself. For a moment, he felt mounds of regret. He felt self-conscious, ashamed, and guilty for his excessive corpulence. He knew that if he kept up the pace he was going at, he'd end up with a heavy, swaying belly hanging low over his thighs, a bulging ass that never fit anywhere, round, bouncy moobs that were impossible to hide. He was afraid that he'd grow so big he wouldn't be able to go on their walks anymore or bend down to tie his shoes. He was afraid that his mound of fat would engulf his penis. But he wanted more food. He wanted to stuff himself until his gut hurt, and then more. He wanted the richest, most sugary, most fatty treats forced into his face. And he wanted to grow. He wanted to grow into a blubbery, heavy, tub of lard.