Chapter 1

Mike exhaled deeply, and was flirting with the idea of just saying ‘screw it’, reclining back and finishing the six, count them six boxes of pizza she had told him better be gone by the time she gets back from work.

Oh how she could tempt him. She would always say "it’d better be gone" and never say what would happen if it wasn’t. More food? Chuckling to himself, that wouldn’t be too bad then would it?

Leaning forward, he felt his massive weight shift towards the floor and let the lowest end of his enormous belly touch the carpet. Steadying his feet, he slowly rocked forward and with a loud grunt, stood up.

He waited for his immense body to stop gyrating, and watched in the full-length mirror across the room at his massive, perpetually full belly and smiled. Grabbing hold of the brass rail, he moved one foot, ankle fat touching the floor, at a time.
He thought back when walking wasn’t an issue.

Sure, he’d never actually been "skinny" by any remote definition. Come to think of it, he had trouble seeing himself being any less than 300 pounds. But compared to his girth now, oh yes indeed he was much thinner. So much so that he supposed he carried more weight in each leg than even a large-sized man weighs whole.

By his estimate, he ate more than in an afternoon than most families do all day. His breakfast seemed to blend seamlessly into brunch, lunch, perpetual snacking in the afternoon, a dinner that made Thanksgiving appear paltry, and deserts that would sell out a pastry shop.

By her estimate, he was either the fattest man in the world, or fast approaching so. He could still walk, or do something akin to walking. More like a slow, lumbering shuffle.
His memories of the past few, magnificent years were highlighted by reflections of outgrowing things, like shirts. Pants. Chairs. Cars. And soon, couches and probably bed. Snoozing in the rare breaks between his gluttony he could hear and smell her busy in the kitchen, knowing that soon, the delights she was concocting would find their way into his growling belly.

Leaning back against the rail, he looked at himself full in the mirror. A short, brown buzz cut covered his wide head, which grew into a large second chin that hung loose onto his chest, which looked like two large flapjacks spreading out over his belly and under his flabby arms, looking like sand bags partially obscuring his hands. His arms had become too heavy to lift over his shoulders ages ago, and now his weighty forearms were getting to that point as well.

The fat accumulating around his legs draped over his ankles and brushed the floor as he walked, and he felt would soon totally flow over his feet when he stood up. Above his knees, the blubber was so wide that even when he spread his legs, they still touched. The large fatty lump above his groin; larger than a basketball. All obscured by his massive belly. It moved on its own accord, and recently seemed content to simply stay put, and not only that, but to keep the rest of him grounded too. She measured him every month, and last time when sitting, it had reached nearly 160" around. Currently, it was suspended somewhere below his knees and above the floor. Only just.

Smiling at his imagine, he thought to himself the same thing that she had said to him every day since she first spun spaghetti on a fork and brought it to his waiting mouth:

"Eat up, skinny boy."

Hearing her come into the bedroom through the door behind him, he smelled cheeseburgers and fries. Cooing softly, she gently touched his back, and kissed him on the shoulder.

"How’s my little piglet doing?"

"Hungry for you."

Walking around to his front, she rubbed and slightly wiggled his belly.

"Oh yes, there’s a lot of room left in there."

Slowly leading him back to bed, and pushing his monstrous gut up where it ought to be, she unwrapped the first burger.

"How fat do you wanna be, baby?"

"How fat do you wanna make me?"

Laughing to herself, the same story every time. "You’ll never be too fat for me."
"Good," leaning as best as he could toward her, "now feed me."