Chapter 4

It was reckoning time for me and my wardrobe. My clothes had already been getting tight before last week - now most my clothes were completely outgrown. I was trying to pull a particularly tight pair of jeans over my enlarged ass when my husband walked in.

"Wow," he said, staring.

"What?"

"The way you walked in last night, I thought you must have gained weight - but this is worse than I thought"

"Oh," I said, looking away, my cheeks burning.

He came over and grabbed a budding love handle that had sprouted on the side of my waist.

"Look at this," he said. "You're turning into a fat-ass."

"Don't," I whined, squirming away.

"Well, it's true," he said.

I was so humiliated - but also secretly thrilled that someone was finally commenting on my weight gain - it made it feel real.

"It's because you're not going to the gym anymore," he said.

"I have been," I protested, "it's just... well, I'm too busy."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I can't have my wife walking around looking like a fat cow."

I gasped.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but it's the truth. Look, go out and buy yourself a new dress for tonight, one that's a size up."

"Fine," I said, pouting.

As I stood in the changing room at the mall, I found myself surrounded by mirrors that showed my changing body from every angle. I had an old naked photo my husband had taken of me open on my phone. I just couldn't stop comparing my 128lbs reflection with the 110lbs Lucy in the photo. My belly had lost definition and was pooching out into the start of a roll. Fondling and jiggling it around made me weak at the knees. I marveled at how my waist now looked; love handles were definitely starting to come in. I couldn't stop touching the parts that looked flabbier; the soft, squishy feel of the new fat made me feel giddy. My body had changed so quickly! Was that cellulite on my ass & thighs? I tried angling my body into the light to get another glimpse of it.

I decided to buy more than just one dress; I fully expected to be bursting out of the next size up in no time. So I went on a shopping spree, buying the same dresses and stretchy loungewear in the next three sizes up. Sizes M, L and XL to accommodate my growing, fattening figure. I had never worn anything larger than a S my whole life. I tried on one of the size XL dresses before I left. The thought of one day fitting into it soaked my panties straight through. Now I just had to hide the L & XL clothes from my husband so he didn't get suspicious.

As soon as I was done clothes shopping, I paid a visit to the food court and binged on the highest calorie foods on the menu. I was taking every chance I could to pack junk and sugar into my body.

That evening, I slipped into the smallest dress I'd bought. It was a simple, blue cotton dress, and although it was a size up from the one I'd worn a week ago, it was still a little tight around the bust and waist. As my husband's friends came over, I watched the glances they shot me. One of them made a comment about how curvy I looked.

"Oh," I said, blushing.

I glanced down, the dress was tight and really showed off my new figure; including the outline of my belly; which wasn't quite as flat as it used to be. I was so self-conscious, but inside, I was beaming.

I sat with my husband, drinking beer, and listening to him talk with his friends.

"Can you get me another drink?" my husband asked.

I sighed. "Sure," I said, getting up.

As I walked to the kitchen, I could feel their eyes on me. Were they staring at my ass? Did they think it was fat now? The thought excited me.

As soon as I was out of sight I grabbed a cookie from the kitchen cupboard and crammed it into my mouth, moaning quietly. As I swallowed, I grabbed another and ate that too.

My head was spinning. I felt like I was living a double life.

After his friends had gone, my husband was a little tipsy. Despite his comments about my weight, he was now all over me, his hands pawing at my curves.

"You're so sexy," he whispered.

It had been weeks since we last had sex. I stripped down and lay on the bed, my legs wide open for him. I closed my eyes and dreamt of Amy; of her huge belly rolls spilling over her waistband, of her enormous breasts jiggling. I caressed and squished the flab at my sides and imagined what it would be like to be as big as her. I was starting to get wet. I felt my husband's fingers inside me, moving rhythmically. I started to moan, loudly.

"Yes!" I gasped.

I couldn't stop thinking about Amy. I had a fantasy that she was sitting on my face. She was so big and soft and fat, her giant thighs would be squishing down on me and I would be suffocating, but not caring. I wanted her so bad.

"You like that?"

My husband's voice brought me back to reality.

"Uh, yeah," I panted.

He was fingering me fast now and I could feel the sensation rising.

"Fuck me," I begged, my heart racing.

He climbed on top of me and slid his cock into me. I groaned, my eyes closed, picturing Amy's massive tits wobbling. I grabbed a handful of my own breasts and squeezed them hard.

"Harder," I moaned, "faster!"

He sped up, pounding me faster and harder.

"Oh, God!" I cried.

"Yes," he panted, "yes, yes!"

I arched my back and gripped the sheets. My orgasm was coming. I was so close. I closed my eyes, thinking of Amy, and imagining her big, flabby body bouncing up and down as she rode my face.

"Ahh," I yelled, shuddering, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over me as the orgasm hit.

I heard my husband grunting and I felt him come. He collapsed on top of me.

We were both panting. I stroked my own belly, feeling it's softness, and wondered what Amy was doing right now.