A Ton of Love! Ai Generated.

Chapter 1

"Dude, you've gotta try this burger," said Mark, slapping the greasy paper-wrapped behemoth onto the counter between us. "It's a triple-decker, with cheese that oozes like a fondue fountain and bacon that crackles like fireworks in your mouth."

I eyed the burger warily, my stomach giving a hopeful lurch. Mark knew my taste buds better than anyone, but he also knew my secret. The one I'd kept hidden under layers of jokes and half-truths. The one that had me counting calories with the fervor of a monk counting rosaries. But today, I was feeling reckless. "Alright," I said with a smirk. "But I'm not sharing a single fry."

The first bite was heaven. The juices spilled out, a river of flavor that coated my tongue. Each chew was a pattern of textures, from the crunch of the bacon to the soft, yielding bread. My eyes rolled back in pure bliss as I savored the greasy symphony. Mark watched, a knowing smile playing on his lips, as I devoured the burger. He'd seen me do this before, but never with such gusto.

As I licked my fingers clean, a sense of satisfaction settled over me, deeper than any food coma. I felt alive, uninhibited. This was the start of something new.

Five years flew by like a feather caught in a tornado. I had grown, ballooned really, into a creature of pure excess. One thousand pounds of pure, unfiltered happiness. The journey had been a blur of greasy spoons, midnight raids on the fridge, and the occasional look of horror from strangers. But I didn't care. This was my life now, and I was in control of it.

My body had become a fortress of flesh, a monument to my love of food and the freedom it brought. I lay on the specially reinforced bed that had become my world, my universe. Mark, my best friend and confidant through it all, had been by my side every step of the way. He had watched my transformation with a mix of concern and fascination, but never once had he judged me. And now, as he knelt beside me, his eyes gleaming with mischief, I knew he had a surprise in store.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my skin, and whispered, "Ready for the pièce de résistance?" His hand slid down my mountainous belly, past the folds and creases that had become like a treasure map of pleasure and pain, to the one part of me that remained as sensitive as ever. My heart raced as his lips closed around me, the warmth and wetness sending a jolt of electricity through my body. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in years, not since I had lost the ability to reach down and touch myself.

Mark's technique had evolved over the years, adapting to the new landscape of my body. His tongue danced with a finesse that defied the sheer weight of me. He knew every ridge, every sensitive spot, and he used them to play my body like a finely-tuned instrument. The room grew hazy, filled with the smells of grease and sweat, and the only sounds were the wet smack of his lips and the occasional groan that rumbled through my chest like distant thunder.

As the last tremor of pleasure subsided, he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Robbie," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I've got something to ask you." He took a deep breath, his hand trembling as he reached for my chubby hand, nestled between the pillows of my forearms. "Will you marry me?"

My heart stuttered, my eyes wide with shock. This wasn't what I'd been expecting, not in the slightest. But as I looked into Mark's eyes, I saw the sincerity, the love, and the absolute adoration reflected back at me. I felt a warmth spread through my body, a warmth that had nothing to do with the layers of fat that separated us. "Yes," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I will."

The room seemed to pulse with joy as Mark's smile grew wider than I'd ever seen. He squeezed my hand, the simple act of affection sending ripples through my mounds of flesh. He leaned in and kissed me, his lips soft and gentle against mine, a stark contrast to the intensity of his earlier passion. I could feel the weight of his body pressing into the side of my immobile form, and it was a feeling I cherished more than any other.

"Another thousand pounds?" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and surprise. "But Mark, I'm already—"

"I know," he said, cutting me off with a grin. "But think of it, Robbie. A new challenge, a new adventure for us to embark on together." He leaned in closer, his eyes alight with excitement. "Imagine the look on everyone's face when you're two thousand pounds. We'll be unstoppable, legendary!"

I couldn't help but chuckle, feeling the jiggle of my chins. Another three years had passed, and I had become a spectacle, a headline, and the center of my own little universe. The bed that once groaned under my weight now held the love of my life, the person who had seen me at my most vulnerable and still chosen to stand by me. At 1999 pounds, I was a behemoth, a feat of nature that drew both awe and revulsion from the outside world. Yet, here I was, happier than I had ever been.

Married life with Mark had been an adventure, to say the least. Our love had grown with every pound I had gained. We had a system down to a science. Feeding tubes and lifts had become part of our daily routine, but so had the tender moments, the whispers of love in the quiet of the night, and the gentle caresses that made me feel seen beyond the layers of fat.

On our second anniversary, Mark had a special surprise. He had been planning it for months. He rolled me into the backyard where a crowd had gathered, a crane hovered above, and a giant scale had been set up, dwarfed by the sheer size of the man I had become. My heart thumped in my chest as the crane carefully hoisted me onto the scale. The digital numbers ticked upwards, and with a final beep, they stopped at 2000 pounds. A collective gasp filled the air, followed by a round of applause.

The moment was surreal. The sun kissed my face, a gentle breeze whispering over my skin. I was a ton of pure, unbridled joy. Mark wiped a tear from his eye, a proud smile stretching from ear to ear. He leaned in and whispered, "You've done it, baby." His hand rested on my stomach, feeling the soft mounds that had become a part of our shared identity. We had done this together, and as we held each other's gaze, I knew that this was just the beginning.