chapter 3

He was lying beside me when I woke. I rolled onto my side and put my arms around his neck, and his enveloped me in love and tenderness. I buried my face in his neck. He felt so good! He wasn't entirely lean anymore (he was a cook after all...) but he had those swimmer's muscles and once again I was practically melting. His hands went right to work on the tension in my shoulders and lower back.

"I love you, Samantha." He'd broken character, but I couldn't complain.

"I love you, Joe." I hugged him even more tightly.

"Work must have done a number on you, your back is all knots." He said.

"But you're taking such good care of me, I'm sure I'll be all better in no time."

He felt me up and down, squeezing my pudge and holding me tight. "You feel so good sweetie. You're getting so big."

I started rubbing my thighs together while we cuddled. After a few minutes I asked: "Mister Joe, will you make me feel nice?"

"Of course, sweetie. What would you like?"

"Storytime!" I cried out.

Mister Joe took a moment to get up and lean over me. He jumped into 'our favorite story' right in the middle of it: the good part. He started describing the predicament of poor lost Gretel, alone in the woods, taken in by a 'kindly' lady only to wake up in a cell. He lingered on the details. She was a svelte, skin-and-bones little thing; she had curly, dirty blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.

He was describing Gretel, but he was talking about me. I had been a little thing way back when, when Joe and I were new to each other. Just a pair of dorks flirting and being goofy after school.

But the witch brought her feasts of sweets and goodies, and after a little while with nothing to do but eat and sleep she started to fill in. The witch felt her finger and said how pleased she was that Gretel was starting to plump up. Gretel tried to use a chicken bone and some skin to trick the witch, but it didn't work.

"Oh no!" I feigned alarm.

Gretel ate and ate, stuffed many times a day. She grew heavy and plush; she didn't resemble her skinny self anymore. She had rosy, chubby cheeks, a little second chin, a little tummy that covered up her ribs, a wiggling, pudgy little bum, and matching legs. The witch felt her finger...

"No, don't eat her!" I covered my mouth with my hands.

The witch praised her for getting so much fatter, but not fat enough to eat just yet.

Mister Joe started to pull off my jeans while he talked, pausing here or there to lean down and kiss my jiggling legs. I was breathing harder already, listening to him talk. Oh, oh the memories. He was talking about how I'd looked to him the first time he saw how fat I was getting. I remember the feeling, having put on so much weight so fast, worrying about how people would react. He hugged me, and it felt so wonderful; then I felt a little pinch. I would have been mortified if it weren't for how he looked at me. He was right, I'd gotten so much heavier... In the midst of my reverie he'd managed to get me out of my shirt.

I was treated to a show of him disrobing before he continued. I could see how excited he was under his boxers... He unhooked my bra and ran a finger over my nipples.

"Mmmmm... Mister Joe..."

The witch kept feeding Gretel, keeping her stuffed with treats all day, every day. While Gretel gorged, she grew, plumped, and fattened up. She grew round and rolly, her tummy sat in her lap, each of her thighs was as big as a holiday turkey, she wiggled and waddled when she tried to walk. She grew heavy, hearty, and healthy all over; it was as if she were stuffed with cream and butter everywhere. Gretel grew until she looked like a greedy dough-girl, a plump, plush chubbette. She sat, ate, and waited until the witch came to check her finger again.

Joe helped me wiggle out of my pink, princess panties and... touched me... all over... while he talked. If the earlier parts of the story were meant to remind me of how I started and how I fattened over the years... Well, now he wanted me to dwell on just how big I'd grown. He pinched my tummy and squeezed my arm. He wrapped both hands around one of my thunder thighs and couldn't get his fingers all the way around. He tickled my cheeks and under my chins. He slid off his boxers and I could see that he was as ready as I was for what was coming.

"What did the witch say?" I asked.

The witch squeezed Gretel's fingers and smiled evilly: she said that Gretel was plenty big enough and all fattened up.

"And what happens to greedy girls who get nice and fat? They get eaten..." Joe pounced on me and I squealed with pretend fright.

I put the back of my hand on my forehead and feigned: "Oh no, Mister Joe, don't eat me!"

I was moaning and hugging him in moments as he kissed me up and down my round little face. He lingered on my cheeks and over my closed eyes. He pinched my double chin with his lips as he moved down. I felt more pinches on my arms and then on my breasts...

He stayed on my chest for a while, licking and sucking. My felt my face go hot and my legs rub together while pleased me.

"Yes... yes... Mister Joe... eat me all up..." I whispered.

He kissed my tummy all over.

"I'm a big fat girl... eat me all up..."

He lingered again on the insides of my thighs. I felt a few more little pinches as he kissed and squeezed and massaged me. I tried to talk some more... but I couldn't find the concentration to do it. All I could do was breathe and moan, and occasionally cry out. Then he nudged my legs apart and I felt him enter me.

"Aaaaaah! Mister Joe! Yes!"

We took a few moments to align the movement of our hips, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. Then the pace ramped up as our love-making intensified.

"I love how you jiggle, Samantha." He said. "My perfect little fat girl."

We went on until we came, and then he used his fingers until I came again. Then we lay beside each other, cuddling, for a long time...