Chapter 1

The cold February night stuck to the very bones of Matt as he glanced between the pavement and his Uber map. Outside, the music of the club was bumping, and his screen blurred back and forth with clarity as he attempted to overcome the near dozen drinks he had downed tonight. As his phone buzzed that “Shane” would be arriving soon, he turned and waved through the window to his girlfriend Chantelle to make a move.

Tonight had been Chantelle’s last day at her company, and to give her the proper send-off, the girlies in the office had brought them both out for a night on the town. Matt had been dragged along purely on the promise of debauchery. As a sound engineer, he rarely got out enough, spending oodles of hours in the studio. Chantelle worked in finance, and had recently accepted a new position that no longer required her to make the 45 minute trek into the office each day – instead, she got a sweet new cushy work-from-home position that was nearly double the salary of her in office position. It was a no brainer for the young couple, who were working desperately to start their lives and get a home.

As Chantelle emerged from the club, Matt thanked his lucky stars. Tight, black hair in a pony; tight, black dress that clung to her hips and phat ass. Upturned lips, perfectly manicured eyebrows, gold hoop earrings and a perfume that lingered well beyond her exit. Chantelle was a Mediterranean knockout. The definition of slim-thic. Half the reason Matt had accompanied her out tonight was to keep his eye on the other opportunists at the club – he knew what he had, and he needed to protect it.

Holding the door open for him, Chantelle drunkenly sludged forward in a chorus of goodbyes. She dropped into the backseat, Matt slammed the door shut, and discreetly popped the edible he had been saving in his mouth before joining her in the back.

The dark backseat of the uber was the perfect spot for the two to interlace their fingers and breath heavily through the intoxication. Matt plopped down behind the driver’s seat, feeling the buttons of his button down shirt spread open and the waistband of his tight dress pants constrict his midsection. There was no denying, the last year had been bountiful for the 27 year old: he had definitely put on a few. But it didn’t bother him – he came from a good, strong Italian family, and this was a sign of happiness and security.

Chantelle had one had on her phone and the other in Matt’s lap. Her fingers crawled up to his waistband absentmindedly. She tried to slip them between his flesh and the fabric when –

“Fuck, Matt, how are you even breathing in those?” she fired off. “We gotta take your fat ass shopping soon.”

Matt’s heart stuttered, and his brow furrowed. “The hell?”

“This gut of yours is full grown now babe, let’s not act like that’s breaking news.” She slipped her fingers around the button and popped it open. Matt’s belly surged forward, and to his dismay, brought great relief to his situation.
He traced his hand along his manicured beard and coiffed hair. He knew in his heart how Chantelle truly was. She had always been that uptight, bitchy girl that everyone liked so as they could avoid being bullied. When she got drunk, her toxic tongue came out in full force.

“I’m just sayin, you’re starting to really lean into that stereotype.” She dropped her head into his lap, looking up at her phone.

“Which is??” He queried, trying to keep his pulse under control.

“Hot Italian guy who goes full fatty when he settles down.”

Matt reeled at this comment. He was fucking pissed.

“Nice. That’s real nice, Chantelle.”

“What??” She said, sitting up, her eyes fading back and forth. “You’re tellin’ me youre still in good shape?”

He just shook his head and looked out the window. He was furious, and also embarrassed at the SkiptheDishes he knew he had ordered to meet them when they arrived home.

Chantelle poked at his soft flesh peering through the opening between his buttons. “We gotta get you into a soccer league or something again.”

With that, she leaned against the window and shut her eyes, drunkenly breathing in and out in measures.

Matt caught the driver looking at him in the rearview. He shifted uneasy in his seat, feeling the ball of his belly in full contact with his lap. This Uber could not go fast enough. He was enraged, and worst of all…hungry.


The next morning, Matt woke up extra early and snuck into the bathroom. 209lbs. He knew he had softened, but he’d added nearly 60lbs to his physique in the last 18 months. The lockdown definitely didn’t help. But still…

Chantelle slept until 1pm that day. He knew he was going to spend the whole weekend seething at his girlfriend, but didn’t know where to expend his energy.

Chantelle had always been the kind of girl who would party and drink and have a good time, then hit the gym for a few days and work off any after effects. It wasn’t his fault that he worked stupid hours and relied on takeaway to get him through the day? Staring at himself in the mirror, he hamfisted the ball of flesh around his midsection and realized the shame he felt for letting himself become so lazy and out of shape. Especially with Chantelle being such a rocket…how long had people been looking at him thinking that he had let himself go? How many strangers saw a bombshell and her chubby boyfriend?

Matt took a shower and weighed his options. He didn’t want to give Chantelle the satisfaction of getting back in shape after her shitty comments. He wouldn’t let her bully him into submission.

As he washed his body, and traced his hands over his doughy dome, he felt his brain going down a dangerous path…would he ever be able to get back in shape again? He lacked so much motivation. He was hungry all the time, and busy all the time, and definitely didn’t possess the discipline like Chantelle had…but he wouldn’t allow himself to be an embarrassment. If only she could understand how it felt –

He pressed a hand against the wall.

If only she knew how it felt.

He imagined his sexy girlfriend, sitting at home all day, her phat ass dropping the PH and starting with an F instead. But she'd never let that happen…

As if on cue, Chantelle stumbled into the bathroom and slipped into the shower with Matt. Her eyes were bleary and her makeup had smudged and smeared in sleep. She had a small smirk on her face though as she caught sight of him in the nude. Her eyes flickered over his belly.

In this moment, he knew she remembered her drunken comments.

With a soft kiss on her lips, he traced his hand over the back of her neck and applied the slightest pressure southward. Chantelle obliged, bending her knees in the bathtub and taking Matt in her mouth with soft gusto. As he stared down at her over his bloated tummy, he imagined a different girl altogether.

He imagined Chantelle’s puffy cheeks and thick arms.

He imagined a belly resting on a pair of wide thighs.

He imagined her hips and ass filling out the back of the bath altogether.

He imagined her being heavier than him…and wider by far.

It was this vengeful image that brought him to a quick and explosive climax. Matt felt a sense of uncertain, untraceable excitement. What was brewing in him?

As he dried off in bed, wrapped in a too tight towel, listening to the sounds of Chantelle cooing softly in her 45 minute long recovery shower, he input one fateful sentence into his search engine:

“how to fatten my girlfriend?”