Chapter 1 - my unexciting life

Well, here I am again, sitting in my favourite little bistro, Angela's. I have to admit that I absolutely love this place. The coffee is great, so is the food - especially the cakes and pastries they do here - mmm! I come here for lunch and sometimes after work as well. Actually, if I am honest, I have been coming here twice a day now for a couple of weeks - it's becoming a bit of a habit. It's just such a nice cosy little place and I love sitting here in my little booth and watching people as they come and go. You can get quite good at working out what people are like by studying the way the act when ordering, what they do while they sit and enjoy their coffees or food, and what they read and do on their phones.

My name is Claire West, I'm 33 and still single - I haven't found the right woman yet, but I am not actively looking. It'll happen one of these days, I'm sure. My life is, well, a little bit ordinary. I work for a small graphical design company, here in the west end of London. I've got a small, but plush flat in a nice little Victorian semi in Hammersmith. It's perfect for my life at the moment, being only a few stops on the bus from work and Angela's. I would say that my work-life balance is just about right. My job brings in some good money and is not too demanding or stressful. I reckon that I am pretty good at my job. Having always been a creative person, even from an early age, this sort of work seems natural to me. I have a vivid imagination, and I have thought about writing - on and off, but for now, my little unexciting life is just right.

I suppose that the only thing I don't have in my life is companionship and love. I've had several relationships with men and women, but nothing that every seemed very fulfilling or rewarding. There was Steve at the office - what a dick! That is dick as in idiot, not the pork sword variety - lol! Then there was Vanessa, who was a friend of one of the bosses. Things got pretty steamy at an office Christmas party with her one year. It kind of opened my eyes to my sexual leanings. I spent some time being confused and unsure, but I think that now, the pendulum of my sexuality has finally swung firmly towards a preference for women. I mean, so many men have ended up being a huge disappointment, like Steve.

Then there's my mother. I love my mum, but I do wish she wouldn't constantly remind me about my ageing eggs and ovaries at every opportunity. It's the same routine every time I visit her. I spend the first 20 minutes being chided for not having found a nice banker and settling down in a nice family home - knitting needles at the ready - oh God, No! She can't seem to understand that I am an independent woman, and I like that for now. I haven't come out to Mum yet. It never seems to be the right time. When there is someone special in my life, it will be different and I will sit down and talk to her openly about my sexuality. But, I will always be dreading that look of disappointment. I hope that she will understand? Anyway, that's all for another time.

I'm actually a fairly placid person, which is unusual for a woman with a shock of vivid red hair, natural red I have to say. So, I lack the usual fiery temperament that is often associated with redheads. I think I look pretty good, although I say so myself. Standing just shy of 5' 8" and weighing in at 125lbs, I would say that I'm curvy and well defined. My waist is quite small but then there's the elephant in the room - my bum! An English pear, I think it's called - yeah right! Big arses run in the family, and I am no exception. Gifted with wide 'child-bearing' hips and chunky thighs, I got the full deal. Shame the generosity of plumpness didn't extend to my chest, which is as flat as fenland. I shouldn't grumble really, things aren't that bad. I'm fairly fit and healthy, and I can do what I like.

So, that's me all summed up. Now, what brings me to this little bistro today? Well, about two months ago, Angela employed a new woman to serve at the counter and tables. I clocked her name badge. Marilyn, it said. She was nice. Really nice! I felt a bit sort-of grubby at first. Going into this little place and skulking in my little booth, whilst ogling at the rather gorgeous and shapely arse belonging to Marilyn, as it moved around the bistro. It was enough to make me robotically order more coffees and the occasional cakes, just to see it swishing towards me and then away back to the counter. Oh God, I'm having a moment, calm down!

Moving on to today, and I am back in my favourite booth. Marilyn, or Maz, as she likes to be called has already served me with my coffee and an Eccles cake, and has since disappeared back into the kitchen at the rear of the main bistro area. There is one of those flip-flop door thingys, which means that you can just glimpse a little bit of the kitchen when it swings back and forth. Something happened a few weeks back, that ignited something primal within me. I break into a bit of a sweat when I think about it, and it has taken me by surprise. There was this one lunchtime. I was sitting in a slightly different position, because there was some old bloke sitting in my booth. He obviously didn't know it was MINE! Not that I'm precious about it, of course. Anyway, I had my coffee and a Danish. The door opened and in walked this unbelievably stunning woman. She was a large woman, with curves aplenty and she went in and more importantly, out, in all the right places. As I came to discover, this was Angela, the owner of the bistro.

She was wearing a light cotton dress, which did little to hide the stupendously large boobs and butt that she possessed. She swished and swayed as she walked. She beamed at me when she caught my eye, which made me shiver all over. I had to make a conscious effort to close my mouth, which was gaping open. Angela swished around and busied herself behind the counter for a few moments and then went to the kitchen door and beckoned Maz over.
Maz dutifully put down the tray of cakes that she was arranging in the glass display unit and moved over to the kitchen. I got a nice view of her ass as she went past. I really must remember to stop gaping! I don't know if Maz realises that I fancy her something rotten, but she plays it very cool if she does, just giving me a little cheeky smile as she passed my table. I turned slightly to see both Maz and Angela speaking by the door, then Angela pushes the door open and guides Maz in. Just before the door swung closed, I am pretty sure I saw Angela place her hand on Maz's bum and give it a little squeeze.

My heart went all weird and fluttery at that sight. I came over all unnecessary and the room felt suddenly very warm and airless. Downing my coffee, I leapt up and nearly scattered the chair across the floor in my haste to visit the small customer bathroom, not because I needed the toilet, but because the bathroom position allowed me to loiter outside of the kitchen, where I could peer through the door's glass panel. What I saw there, changed me. Trying to look like I was having trouble with the bathroom door, I looked through the glass window and saw Angela popping small sweets from a tray and into Maz's mouth. The doe-eyed look on Maz's face was a picture, which started a fire burning deep inside me. The sight of this was intensely sensual and I nearly orgasmed standing outside that door. My excitement managed to escape my lips with a little yelp and I had to dash into the bathroom for cover when all the other customers looked up at me from their tables.

Inside the cubicle, the image of Angela and Maz was burned into memory and I replayed it over and over in my mind. The thought of what would ultimately happen to Maz's body if she were to be indulged like this was turning my legs to jelly. The thought of her getting fat was something I found intensely sensual and sexy. I wasn't initially very conscious of what my hand was doing beneath the delicate fabric of my panties, but after a very steamy few minutes and frantic finger-work, I made myself climax, right there in the toilets at Angela's bistro. I must have looked a sight when I came out of the toilet. A red blotchy face, dishevelled hair, clothing slightly askew. The only thing missing was the post-coital cigarette hanging from my lips. Sliding nonchalantly over to my table, I sat myself down. Maz was back behind the counter as if nothing had happened, but I did notice that she was tucking into a small plate of sweets by the side of the counter. I remember thinking, 'she is going to get quite fat if she keeps this up' and then followed by some mental pictures of her perfect arse ballooning up and splitting her jeans. I got a warm glow thinking about her getting fat. That was a new feeling, but I really liked it. Maz looked over to my table and smiled at me as she fed another little sweet into her mouth. Did she know what she was doing to me?

I guess that was when I first knew that I had a fat fetish. Later that evening I had done some searching and quickly found plenty of content on the Net that revealed a previously unknown world of weight gain and fat fetishes. I realised then that I fitted the profile of a fat admirer, but then again, maybe I identified more as a feeder. I thought of Maz and imagined her arse growing bigger. I got moist down there, just thinking about that. I had to retire to the bedroom and pleasure myself for the next half an hour. God! I swear I have never come so hard. What am I becoming?

Over the course of the next few days, I returned to Angela's twice a day. The usual coffees and cakes came and went. After several days had passed and having seen Angela come into the bistro and call Maz into the kitchen on all but one of those days, I was sure that I could detect something different about Maz. She was somehow subtly different. Fuller, chunkier, or dare I say it, fatter. She had a particular pair of jeans that she wore a lot. They had one of those leathery looking labels on the back, but there was a small distinctive little torn corner, which made it easy to identify them. After a few days more, I could see that those jeans were getting really tight. Practically spray-on. She came and delivered another coffee and a Danish that I had ordered. She slid the plate with the cake over to me. "I thought you might like a nice big one" she said with a sort of grin. As she turned to head back to the counter, I saw a small rip in the seams of her jeans on her left thigh. Then, that arse. Definitely bigger. Oh Maz, you're getting fat! I would give anything to be the one to post a dainty little cake through her plump lips. I began to squirm a bit in my seat as the familiar moistness mounted down below. The door opened, and in walked Angela. She set her gaze firmly on me as she came in and closed the door. She came over to me and asked if I was being well looked after. I just jabbered something in response. Did she know what I was thinking? I felt very hot suddenly and knew I needed to get out and go home. I finished my coffee and cake and left. I'm sure Maz winked at me as I closed the door.

So here I am today. Usual spot, coffee and a cake (a very large one I might add). Maz seems to have taken a shine to me, maybe? I wish I could pluck up the courage to ask her out, but I am such a massive chicken that I just bottle it before I can speak. Well that, and to be honest, I'm hooked on seeing what developments take place here.
Something slightly different today, though. Angela was already in the kitchen and she came out and went over to Maz, behind the counter. They spoke for a while and then Maz went into the kitchen. A few moments ago, Angela is now crossing the floor to the kitchen and she is smiling at me. She's caught me watching her, or more to the point, the wobbling movement of her soft body as she moves. Oh, God! Busted again.

I'm just going to have to go and see if I can get a look into the kitchen. I wait a few minutes and then casually stroll over to the bathroom door. I can't believe what I am seeing. Angela is feeding a large sticky slice into Maz's eager mouth. She has a dreamy look in her eyes. I can see Angela's finger is stroking Maz's bare skin. Her jeans are so tight that there is a definite bulge just beginning to hang over the waistband. Angela is stroking the soft new fat and looking adoringly at her charge as she feeds more unctuous looking cakes through Maz's lips. My legs are going weak and I can feel my panties getting wet. Why is this so incredibly sexy? I don't care, I cannot stop watching. Another large cake finds its way into Maz and I cannot help thinking to myself, 'that's it, feed her up, she's getting bigger. Make her fat...' I'm attracting attention from another customer. I'm squirming and bobbing on the spot and they probably think I'm going to wet myself. I definitely am, but not how they thing I am. I look back to the kitchen and realise that both Angela and Maz are both looking straight at me. Angela is grinning, while still stroking that sexy little bulge of fat around Maz's waist, then she pinches it between her fingers. Maz smoulders at me and licks her lip seductively. That's it, my face flushes with the heat of a thousand suns and I grapple with the bathroom door handle and dive inside to spare my further blushes.

In the relative safety of the cubicle, I just have to relieve myself as only my skilled fingers know how. My mind is filled with the porno show images of Maz and Angela. The sexual arousal peaks when I think that the intensely sensual and commanding Angela is actively fattening Maz up. I conjure up images of me taking Angela's place. Pushing food into Maz's widening face, squeezing her fattening belly and frigging her off with my fingers. It is all too much. I have to stifle a loud shriek as I finger myself to a massive shuddering climax. I have to sit there and get myself composed again before I venture out. I hear the outer door open and Angela's voice. "Are you alright in here, sweetie?" There's a knowingness in the tone of her enquiry. I manage a feeble "Yes, thanks." I leave it a few more minutes before I emerge into the bistro. Maz is at the counter. I suddenly realise that she is looking really quite chubby now and she is still tucking into pile of small sweets on a plate next to her. I return to my seat and find that the coffee is cold. Angela comes out of the kitchen with a paper bag in her hand. She is coming right over to my table. She bends down to speak quietly. "You're such a good customer. Always here, rain and shine. I just want to show my appreciation, so please accept these as a little reward for your continued loyalty and patronage. I hope you enjoy them all." She stands again, but doesn't move off immediately. I can't help looking at the bulbous form of her arse beneath the silky dress fabric. As if sensing what I was thinking, her hand wanders to her hip and smooths the fabric over her backside. When she removes her hand, I can see a visible wobble from the fat beneath. I can feel the temperature rising again. She bends down again and adds, "If there is anything else you fancy, please don't be shy. Let me or Maz know, we would love to oblige." OMG! Is she chatting me up? I watch that glorious large butt wobble across the floor and disappear into the kitchen. Maz is looking at me and raises an eyebrow. I have to leave now or I will come on the spot. I grab the bag and leave, casting a backwards glance at Maz, who waves and I am sure she just blew a kiss.

I run and just manage to catch the bus for home. Mental images flood my mind and I can barely control my arousal. Thankfully quickly, my street comes into view and I stand up and ring the bell. As I turn to the door, I see a woman huddled on the small wall next to the bust stop. She looks up briefly. She looks very familiar. When the doors open and I look to where she was sitting, there is nobody there. I put the thought from my mind and replace it with visions of Maz and dash the last few yards to my front door. After fumbling with my keys I am in. I head straight to my bedroom, fling off my clothes and thrust my hand down the front of my panties. I find Maz in my dreams. I'm feeding her from a huge tray of rich and fattening treats. Her perfect lips part as she allows me to push treat after treat in. I see her belly swelling up and buttons bursting off her shirt, her arse and thighs explode with soft fat and she gradually transforms and becomes Angela before my eyes. I lose myself in the soft, warm folds and pillows of fat and she starts to feed large sticky pastries into my mouth. I look down and see my belly growing bigger, Angela keeps pushing cakes into my mouth and I don't want her to stop. She says over and over, "I know you want to get fat Claire, just give in to me, you want to be my fatty, don't you..."
I shudder to a massive climax. Wave after wave of convulsing extasy wash over me. Angela fades from sight and I fall into a blissful slumber. When I wake up, I survey the damage. The bed is a mess. There's an empty paper bag. What? Did I actually eat all of those cakes?

I tidy the bed and head for the shower. Just in my panties, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Is it my eyes, or has my arse got bigger? I turn to face the mirror. My thighs are touching at the top now and there is more of a flare at my hips, and, OMG! I'm developing some tits! I get into the shower and wash away the evidence of my indulgence. I check myself out again when I towel myself dry. I'm eating too many of those cakes at Angela's. I'll get fat like Maz if I am not careful. I don't know why, but I felt a little shiver of excitement when I thought about that. My hands go to my well developed arse and squeeze the plump cheeks. Hmm, nice!

There is a knock at the door. What? Nobody knocks my door. Did I order something from Amazon? I grab a towel and wrap it around me, then put on my dressing gown. It's quite late and it's got dark now. When the door opens I can't see anything initially in the gloom. But then a face appears under a hood. A familiar voice says, "Claire West?"
I'm a bit taken off guard. She sounds like... Zara. "Zara Fletcher, is that you?"