Getting fat

Chapter 2

Half out of spite, I started dating a friend of his named Jake.

Jake was a doctor. He was pretty good looking and he had enough confidence to talk to me. He was honestly a total catch, but for me there was hardly a spark. I think he knew it. He tried to buy my love. When we’d go on dates he’d take me to the most expensive restaurants where we’d try amazing food and when we’d go on vacations he’d pay for the most extravagant vacations he could afford. We both knew I could just buy these things myself, but I liked that he tried so hard. Plus the food was amazing. I let him pamper me and I let myself get comfortable. After about a few months of dating, I was started to let go. My body was thickening again. Even all the work I was doing with my trainer couldn’t hold off the weight. I was eating two much and I knew it.

After a year and a half with Jake, my ass was starting to look fat and my thighs had thickened. My boobs were bigger and my pot belly was back. I didn’t care. I was 27 and 175 lbs. I still had that same bitchy attitude from college. Harvey and I had become friends but he was out of reach. Other guys still drooled over me though, and Jake was wrapped around my finger. I knew the relationship weight had really piled on. There was still no spark for me, but I felt so secure. My mom couldn’t even rattle me. I didn’t bat an eye when she took me of the premier condos and restricted me to showing the middle class ones. Instead I just said fuck it and canceled my trainer.

Two years after I’d first asked Harvey out, we were back at my parents holiday party. Jake couldn’t make it, but I had plans to have fun. I was going to get a little drunk and then relentlessly hit on Harvey. I was so comfortably friend zoned by him, I thought it would be totally harmless. Like even at 185, with most guys I acted like a stuckup hottie they could only dream of. Harvey was different though. He was so hot. Next to him I felt like a fat happy little porker without a prayer. I don’t know if it was his recent breakup, or that I had totally stopped caring; something clicked that night though. When I started hitting on him, he gave it right back. We had wild sex. I could see my overfed body riding him in the mirror. I felt like total piggy and I’d landed the sexxiest man alive. It was electric.

After that we couldn’t stop. We fucked every time I was with him. After a few months, I knew it was for real. I called things off with Jake. I hated working out, but I even started trying to get back in shape. Harvey was so confident, I don’t think he cared what I weighed. I didn’t like the sideways glances I got. Even at my heaviest I was used to being the hottest one in the room. Now I felt like every look was someone wondering why Harvey’ had chosen such chubby arm candy. The most I could manage to lose was 30 lbs. I felt beautiful at our wedding but I had a thick ass and big tits with a small but present pot belly.

After the wedding, I got lazy again. I still wanted to look good for Harvey, but it was so much work. Plus I was getting used to being the second hottest in our relationship. I still thought of myself as a hot girl, but I’d started to think of myself as chubby too. I kept the trainer but I started eating shit I’d never really eaten before like Pizza and Iced cream. I knew I was letting go. I knew I was going to get big eating like that. I didn’t want to gain weight. I wanted to stay hot. I started to try to resist. I was fighting a battle with food. I started getting heavier again. This time it felt different. It felt permanent. I was in love with food. I was losing the battle. I could feel myself turning into a fat girl.

We still fucked all the time, but felt like a fat squealing pig in bed. Harvey never said a word. I don’t think he was into it or anything. I just truly think he didn’t care what I weighed. The the sex was amazing.

On Thanksgiving, we were having family over we had a big announcement to celebrate too! I we’d just found out I was pregnant. I was nervous. I hadn’t seen my family since the wedding. I’d eaten myself up to 195 lbs. I put on all black to try look slimmer, but there was no hiding it. My ass was fatter than it’d ever been and my thighs had grown together and thick. My boobs were huge and my potbelly had grown thick again. My arms looked soft and chubby. Even my face was starting to soften which had never really happened before.

My mom took one look at me and was disgusted. She couldn’t even address me. Instead she asked Harvey “She knows she’s supposed to stuff the bird, not herself?” During dinner, when we told her I was pregnant asked “does she know you don’t need to gain weight when you’re pregnent if you’re already fat?” I couldn’t even get drunk so I turned to food to control my emotions. I’d never done that before, but by the end of the night I was so stuffed but I was feeling a bit better.

I was really committed to having a healthy pregnancy, and besides Thanksgiving, through most of my pregnancy my family and Harvey were incredibly supportive. Everyone pitched in to help me stay committed to eating healthy and exercising for the baby. I still ate too much, but I didn’t put on too much weight. After giving birth to my twin daughter, I was only up 15 lbs. Even my mom, said that wasn’t “too” bad. I think she was growing resigned to the fact the I was a big girl.

Without the motivation of pregnancy, I lost my reason to eat healthy. I cut back a little, but I’d gotten used to eating for three I basically never stopped. I tried to resist, but junk food worked its way back into my diet. I’d grab lunch with my mom and order twice as much food as her an less healthy. She’d thrown in the towel and barely even nagged. I gave up on exercise. I’d already accepted that I was a fat girl, so why bother.

As my weight climbed, I started to FEEL heavy doing every day things. By the time my daughters started kindergarten I’d get winded walking from my car to the grocery store. Going up stairs was exhausting. Standing up from my office seat I felt heavy. And chasing around my little girls? It was impossible. I was 265 lbs. I felt huge and heavy. I mean, I still had a nice shape, but by ass was enourmous and my thick thighs rubbed together down to my knees. My boobs weren’t just big, they’d grown fat and heavy. My gut was still small compared to my ass, but it was a thick pot belly. My arms were plump, fat, and nearly useless. I was too out of shape and too heavy. I waddled after my kids trying too keep up, but I couldn’t. I was so happy they were leaving for school. Finally I could relax.

I’d stopped working years ago to take care of the kids. When they went to school, I had nothing to do. I tried to join a gym again and I hired a trainer. I got no results. I was so weak. Exercise was so uncomfortable. I didn’t put in much effort. I’d grown lazy. I mostly just flirted with my trainer. When I got home, I’d make a big meal and suck down a protein shake. I told myself I’d earned it. Then I’d sit, browse facebook and graze for hours. After a year, I weighed 25 lbs MORE than I did before. I gave up on fitness for good.

I was getting fatter and having just as much sex. Harvey was a specimen of a man. I was an overfed milf, a total fatty, and he was wrapped around my finger. What if I got fatter still? Would he care? Was there any reason for me to watch my weight? Was I so hot that it didn’t even matter? The question gave me a thrill. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t trying to get gain weight. I wanted to be skinny, but what would happen if I got fatter? I kind of wanted to know.

After giving up on the gym, I joined a brunch club with the other house wives of Santa Fe. Most of them were skinny bitches, but I was the queen bee. They were equal parts jealous and afraid of my fat ass because 1) my families international real-estate empire was now the number one employer in the state, I could make or break their husbands careers, 2) every single one of them wanted my husband, and 3) fat or not, I turned heads.

I was not ready for their cattynes. We were going out every day. I’d finish my own heavy brunch. Then, after three or four mimosas, I’d start eying other plates. I couldn’t stop myself. I KNEW I needed to watch out. Any sign of weakness and these bitches would pounce, but my appetite had grown. I wanted to eat more. Eventually I broke. I asked to finish some leftover pancakes. They were just sitting there and I was drunk and hungry. I saw the smirks, but I couldn’t stop myself. I kept asking for leftovers. I got greedier. I’d finish more than one plate. After a few weeks I was cleaning the plates of the whole table. If I was tipsy enough I’d let them order me desert to “make sure I wasn’t hungry.”

No one was even hiding smirks by then. They were pumping me full of food. I could feel the over-feedings sticking to my body like glue. They were fattening me up. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even want to. I was getting greedier and lazier. I loved the food. I blew passed 300 lbs. It was a thrill. Every day I was finding out if Harvey cared how fat I got. He didn’t.

The girls pushed me over the edge. I’ve given in. I was just a fat girl, now I’m huge. I’ve embraced being a fatty. I’m 360 lbs. My ass is enourmous. It’s like 2 fat beachballs set on thick tree trunk legs. My thighs are so fat they barely come apart. My gut is thick but it’s overshadowed by my boobs. My boobs have are enormous, fat, and heavy. My arms are thicker than my thighs were and completely devoid of muscle. Harvey and I still fuck every day. I feel like a whale with his hard lean body pounding my huge soft one but the sex is amazing. It’s better than before. I feel every thrust rippling through my fat from head to toe. It’s a total body experience. Complete ecstasy.

Even if I could lose weight now I wouldn’t. I am a huge fat girl. I eat more, exercise less, and have better sex. I have everything I want. Why would I change?