Chapter 40 - Epilogue A

Periodically, I wondered where my life would be if I'd pursued Cam after I graduated from college. As I reflected back to that final week of senior year plus the week that I'd stuck around the college town after, I remembered two weeks of crazy & unhinged sex with Cam. Once or twice, Cam's fat roommate, Alana, got thrown into the mix, but all of my best memories of that time had been centered around Cam. It was during that time with Cam, sneaking to her apartment just about every day, that I fully realized how deeply I was getting into fat girls. While in the moment, our time together felt like an eternally, in retrospect, it ended rather abruptly. I had to leave. She had to stay.

We tried to keep something alive, but the distance killed things between us as our texting slowly fizzled away. At that time, Cam was going to be going back to school for a fifth year, so she couldn't follow me. Maybe if I'd have asked her, she would've, but I didn't. Despite my desires, at that point in my life, I lacked the confidence to date someone fat. Especially someone as fat as Cam. She knew I wasn't taking her seriously, and I think she was okay with that at first, but I could tell it bothered her. Thus, What was a deep crush turned into a fleeting and short affair that unbottled a new sexual awakening. An awakening that I was still grappling with and trying to understand and accept. On the other side of this life-altering affair with Cam, I attempted to wear the mask of the man I'd always thought I was. To my best effort, I tried to be a regular guy who was still attracted to conventionally hot girls like Alison. Yet, my dark secret was getting harder to contain as it was becoming more severe and more difficult to control.

After college, I moved to the city, had my internship, and was offered a job at the end of my first summer there. While things in my career were taking off, my dating and romantic life was getting strange. During those first two years in the city, I lived my life as a bachelor, adapting to a new neighborhood, and for a while, I hit up bars and clubs to meet people. Yes, I was an up-and-coming fresh college grad in the finance sector who fit into the city like a hand in a glove. Yet, while everything seemed normal on the surface, I started to dip my toe into something I felt ashamed of doing. I started picking up fat chicks.

I still remember the first girl, Hannah. She couldn't have been a hair over 170 pounds, but I noticed her at a bar, and the way her beer belly strained against her top was cute and hot at the same time. She gave off the appearance of someone who had recently put on a bit of weight from the way she dressed. Hannah was just overweight enough to pique my interest but not chubby enough for people to question my preferences. If only it had ended with Hannah.

Unfortunately, my conquests got bigger from there. Chubby girls at first, then bonafide fat girls, and eventually morbidly obese girls. The more I fucked around with big girls, the heavier my on-night stands became, and the underwear size of the asses I was bending over beds was rapidly going up tag size by tag size. It got to a point where I started hogging, going after the fattest girl I saw when I was out at a bar or club.

Hogging was a term coined by frat bros on college campuses' typically during hazing weeks where they forced this activity on new pledges as a punishment. Usually, the pledge would be taken to a bar or party and would be forced to hit on the fattest girl there and bring her home. More often than not, acquiring the fat girl's panties was required as part of the hazing ritual to prove that the deed was done. Not a lot of frats had such a cruel hazing ritual, but I'd heard of one on my campus who did this. Still, while typically hogging was a punishment, I was doing it of my own volition, actively feeding my fat fetish. During this time, I maxed out on a girl who probably weighed as much as Camryn did when I slept with her. Though, to Cam's credit, this other girl of a similar weight was far less freaky in bed.

At that point, I settled into my new, strange sex life. Every two weeks or so, when I found a fatty I discreetly wanted to fuck, I'd always go back to their place, fuck their brains out, and give them a fake number. It was chaos. I was addicted. I was ashamed. I tossed in a few skinny girls, now and then, to make me feel like I still wanted them, but it wasn't the same. My taste was already skewed toward my fat fetish, and I couldn't get enough.

Though probably not polite for me to say, these fat girls were so incredibly easy and, more often than not, desperate to get laid. Quite frankly, I barely had to try most of the time, as they were just as eager as I was to hop into bed. If they were single, there was no fuss or song and dance. Most, if not all, were down to fuck, and all of them fucked me like no skinny girl could. Though they lacked the stamina, they more than made up for it in the effort and eagerness to please. Everything they say about fat girls giving the best head is absolutely true, too.

Yet, as fun as each of these fatties was, I cast each and every one of these big girls aside, fearful that I'd become attached and afraid that someone in my day-to-day life would find out about the types of girls I was into. I was like a werewolf prowling the night, each new fortnight hunting my next fatty to stick my dick in, then returning to my usual self the following, ready to grapple with what I'd done. It was confusing, and by the time I'd banged 12 sexy fat girls ranging from 180-330 pounds, It was starting to feel normal. The more I did it, the less I felt like a deviant for liking what I liked.

What used to turn me on no longer did. A nicely shaped ass, with an hourglass frame, flat stomach, and perky tits, on a skinny 120-something-pound girl barely sent any blood to my dick anymore. It hadn't always been that bad. Then, one night, two years into living in the city, I made a mistake.

It was a club uptown, far from my usual spots. When I first saw this girl. At first glance, I didn't know her name when I saw her standing there, but I noticed she was a grade-A fatty. The fattest piece of ass I'd ever went after. Probably just shy of 400, by my estimation, with a bodycon dress that showed off quite a lot of belly, ass, and fat rolls. Borderline SSBBW. I was excited. Though not as big, her body type was similar to Haley the Hog's, the fat gainer I'd only just started jerking off to somewhere around that time.

Regardless, the club fatty was a complete pear with massive thighs, spacious hips, a big fat ass, and an apron of a double belly that sagged low. To be honest, I didn't really care that the club tubbo barely had tits since I was mainly a belly guy. Yet she did seem to carry a lot of weight in her face and thick double chin, which, at the time, I'd recently started to get turned on fatter faces. Given her size and relative age (early/mid-20s), I had her pegged as a fat lifer. AKA, the kind of girl who had been fat her whole life and knew nothing else but life in the fat lane.

She was the fattest amongst her group of fat friends by a noticeable margin. A group of friends who seemed to all be dancing together in a tight perimeter. No guys in sight, instead focused on the thinner girls littering the club. Most guys didn't want these fat girls, but I sure did. I could have gone after any of them, but I wanted the prize hippo. I waited for my moment when I had an opening where she was far enough away from her porky friends for me to make my move.

I remember coming up behind her and whispering something flirty in her ear. She was into it, and I pulled her over to a relatively dark corner of the club to dance privately. From the moment we started dancing, I could tell I'd made her year. Even in the dim lighting, I could see she was smiling, her thick double chin jiggling as she slowly shuffled about. Frankly, She was too obese to dance effectively, hearing her heavy breathing midway through the first song. Needing to go easy on her, I pulled her close to me so she could feel my erection push into her bovine-sized butt and took over the pace of our dancing, slowing it down so she could rest. I'd come to understand big girls and wanted to make sure she saved her stamina for something more enjoyable later.

I remember her saying, "My friends are going to be so jealous." nodding over to the group of three other fatties standing alone on the other side of the club watching us. They could watch all they wanted. If they'd put in the work lifting more burgers to their faces like their fatter friend, maybe they'd be the ones lucky enough to catch my eye.

By the second song, she didn't stop me when I started to touch her butt. I gently rubbed across the giant expanse of soft ass blubber, feeling the patches of smoothness beneath her overly tight dress, discovering where each and every lump of cellulite was. This was pure pig ass that had built up plenty of cushion for this big girl to sit on (as it seemed she so often did). At times like this, I was shocked by the drastic turn in my tastes, seeing as a fit gym booty used to be all I lusted after while I found a substantial obese ass like this sincerely unappealing. Not anymore. After nearing the exact center of her broad backside, I could finally feel the rear band of what felt like an overworked thong that she was wearing underneath. Then, I went lower and got a little more forceful. There was more wide ass than I could grab, but she let me have it all, encouragingly pushing back into me as I felt her up.

I could remember being thoroughly turned on at that point, so I adjusted my approach and went for my favorite part of any fat girl. The belly. At first, she gently pushed my hand away as I rested my hand on it, letting out a nervous giggle towards me. Aside from Cam, most fatties I encountered didn't like me touching them there, typically shy about anyone touching their stomach. But I persisted, feeling bold, resting my hand on her belly again, and she acquiesced.

God, I could tell by how soft and doughy her tummy was that this girl was a grade-A pig. No one with a belly this big ate salads. This was a butts-up-for-doughnuts type of fat girl with an obvious food motivation. I was sure to restrain myself from playing with her stomach too much, given this girl hadn't given me the body language that she was thrilled about her belly. A surprise given she'd so invitingly displayed it in her dress, the conforming material of the spandex hugging her fat belly. We made out for a bit shortly after, and I could feel how badly she wanted me. Taking my opportunity, I let my hand go lower to the lower fold of her lower belly and gave it a squeeze. I could feel her falter a bit as we kissed, taken aback by the squeeze, but she didn't protest as I continued firmly gripping her there.