Quantity

Chapter 1

Note to the reader: This story is written from a first person POV with a shifting perspective. This shift shall be indicated by a small paragraph containing only the word “narration,” or the name of the POV character, like so

Fred is my name, and this is my problem. Or, it was my problem, it was for years, so I have to share how it finally ended for me. I hope it helps somebody.

I love my fiancé, I really do. There’s a reason I proposed to her last month. I love nearly everything about her. Her beautiful, blue eyes. Her hair, stuck on the edge between being a light brunette or a dark blonde, her cream colored skin. I love her laugh and her sense of humor. I love how damned smart she is. My beloved Tiffany is so perfect that I didn't even think to mention the obvious physical characteristics that most guys would think of first. She's five foot six, and she's got a beautiful bubble butt and a C cup chest, at one hundred and ten pounds. But the woman is more than just good looks. She's a chemist, and a good one at that, she is very nearly perfect. But nobody is completely perfect, and the one thing that I actually do hate about my fiancé seems to be getting worse with time.

Tiffany has very nearly no sex drive whatsoever. We met in our Junior year of college, and around then, we went at it about once a week, as a compromise. I wanted a lot more, she wanted a bit less, but we were both okay with once a week, a good compromise leaves everyone unhappy, right? I had honestly hoped that time would bring our libido closer together, probably by mine dropping with age. But just the opposite happened. My wants remained largely unchanged, while hers moved further and further from me. I had thought that once a week was far too little, now we sleep together less than once per month. I kept note of it on a calendar for a very long time, and the average is about once per forty eight days, after a year. What terrifies me is this. She explicitly said that she would be perfectly fine being celibate, and that she may even prefer it. I HATE THIS! I am already very nearly a literal incel, and I AM ENGAGED!

But, I wasn’t kidding before. Tiffany is essentially perfect in every other way that I can think of. She is my first, and only, love. I have never had another girlfriend, and we’ve been together for a decade now. Sunk cost fallacy be damned, I refuse to admit defeat and write off ten years together. I hate the thought of it, but I honestly would still stay in this relationship, even if we were completely celibate. But It’s a hollow and joyless existence to give up entirely.

The worst part is this. Tiffany absolutely refuses to even consider any solutions. Herbs? No. Drugs? Never. Couples therapy? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Every last option I would think of was shot down. But, I wasn’t kidding, I do love her. The idea of cheating on Tiffany is unthinkable, and leaving would be even worse. So, what do I do when she comes to me, saying that she thinks she may even be an asexual who has unknowingly forced herself to have sex to fit in? Should I delve into despair and self loathing, wracking my mind for information as I go over every failure and fault that I have with a fine toothed comb? Give up entirely and Kill myself? Game over, I lost, the end. Maybe I need to find a way to sleep with someone else, without cheating on her? No, I know she finds ideas like being poly detestable, and I wouldn’t be so cruel as to demand it from her either. Besides, I doubt it would work, even if I could.

So, I made other demands. I decided to tell her that I want to have sex at least once a week, since it’s the average rate for people in general. During the resulting fight I gave in and said that I’d be fine with half of that. Aaaaand she broke down in tears, freaking out that I think there is something wrong with her, or worse, that something really IS wrong with her. That absolutely is not what I wanted to do. I don’t hate my fiancé, just the opposite, I love her, I’m just horny, and, right now, I am at wit’s end as to what to do. I don’t have the slightest idea how to react to all this. So, I considered my options. Should I spy on her emails? Secretly dose her food with the aforementioned herbs and medicines? Tell our secrets to others and ask for advice and ideas? Or just freak out and beat myself up about it, because every plan I can think of feels like some sort of betrayal? I know that last one wasn’t the right answer either, but it ended up being the default for me. I was unable to do more than define out the rest of my as unacceptable, and had no idea what to do.

This nonsense continued until, one day, I found a way to excite my fiancé. Best of all, Tiffany effectively told me it herself, if unintentionally. We were just hanging out when it came up. We were watching one of her crime shows, and a scene came on, where a murderer’s motivation was that he had always wanted to try out cannibalism. This got very little reaction from Tiffany, but then the narrator mentioned something that absolutely did. Namely that the killer decided he would like to fatten up his victim first, a fact which got her attention like nothing had before. A video of the killer speaking from a prison cell played. In it the killer said “Yeah, I just wanted to get her nice and plump. If I’m risking my life to eat somebody, I’ll make it as much eating as I can get.” The dude was obviously crazy, but Tiffany’s reaction was something unusual. Normally she was a bit interested and excited, maybe even disgusted or angry. But none of that described the look on Tiffany’s face. She was interested and excited, yeah, but it wasn’t anywhere close to “a little bit.” My beautiful bride to be was so amped about this that she stared at the screen in slack jawed amazement, while blushing more deeply than I’d ever seen before. This was it, this was the reaction that I had always dreamed I could get out of her!

As the show followed the killer I stopped trying to be subtle entirely and watched Tiffany just as intently as she watched the show, occasionally glancing in the direction of the screen when she had a particularly juicy reaction to something. She was too transfixed with the show to even notice me anyway. So, I took mental notes of what excited her the most.

Then, when the show ended Tiffany did something that she hadn’t done since her birthday. She turned to me, still blushing, and bit her lip, nodding toward our bedroom door. What followed was absolutely not my best performance in bed. Between excitement, surprise, and being pent up I finished far too quickly. But, my fear of leaving Tiffany frustrated was, thankfully, unfounded. She finished even faster than me, and fell asleep almost instantly after we were done. I’ve heard plenty of people, mostly women, complain that men pass out the moment they finish. But with us it seems just the opposite is true. As we laid side by side I thought about what lead us here, and eventually decided to write down what had happened leading up to the event, hoping I could repeat it under better circumstances.

I later wrote my thoughts down as physical notes, which read as follows.

Tif loves the idea of fattening a woman up I think.

It isn’t the cannibalism itself. Tif seemed pretty disappointed when the killer was done fattening his victim, and actively disgusted when he eventually killed and ate her.

She seems to get more excited as the victim gained more weight, and nearly screamed when the killer mentioned the possibility of fattening somebody up to a truly excessive degree. He went to prison before he could ever try, so no info on her reaction to that beyond the concept.

Tif damned near lost it when the victim’s top ripped from her getting too heavy and trying to pull it on without thinking. She bit her lip and hugged her own torso while blushing when the killer said “That’s a good sign, but not enough.” So, she must like the idea of someone being fattened up by A LOT.

How could I even bring this up with her? Just ask outright? Look online? Just live and keep an eye out for an opportunity maybe?

Maybe this will be enough to get her actually excited?

Plans
Fatten her up like that killer, but with the goal of sex, not cannibalism.

Gain weight myself?
Look up more shows with this theme, and see if they have the same effect on her.

Try talking about plans to fatten people up, see if that gets her going.


As I sat on the edge of my bed and read over my notes, I heard a familiar voice coming from behind me say “Hey there hot stuff!” Tiffany lunged forward and wrapped her hands around my neck as she giggled. I dropped the piece of paper in my hands to the floor. Tif said, “Oh, what’s this?” and reached down to grab it. I snatched up the paper before she could get her hands on it. In hindsight that reaction made it bleedingly obvious that the paper contained something that I didn’t want her to see.

I sighed and held the paper up for Tiffany, who said “You don’t have to-“ I interrupted her, saying “I know. But if you don’t see it now then you’ll be wondering what it is all night long.” Tiffany thought about it for a moment, then took the paper and read it over, while wearing an inscrutable face. After a moment she said “So, the sex thing again?” in an annoyed voice, I grimaced and said “Yeah, sorry. You don’t have to-“ and it was her turn to interrupt me, saying, “You’re know what? Fine. You know I hate this topic though,” and she then held up one finger, saying, “One try. I’ll give the stuff you wrote down a fair chance, but just this once, and only if you give me something in return. I want you to promise to stop talking about this after. No more demands, no more cockamamie schemes to get more sex out of me. This is it. Deal?” and she held out a hand to shake, I took it and pumped it up and down as I said “Deal.” I asked her, “So, when do you want to try it out then?” she said “Definitely not tonight.” And chuckled for a sec, before saying, “You said once a week was about average, and that you’d be cool with half of that. So, let’s try in fourteen days. Today is Friday, right? So, how about the Friday after next?” I had honestly hoped for something sooner. But I’m not gonna let the perfect be the enemy of the good here, so I nodded and said “The Friday after next it is. Today is the seventh, so on the twenty first.”


Tiffany


I love Fred, I really do. I love his smile when he’s happy, and his serious “taking care of business” look is strangely exciting. But he has one problem that’s really been getting on my nerves. The man is obsessed with sex. He thinks that how often I want him in bed is the measure of him being a man. He’s made it abundantly clear that he loves me, and that he knows that I love him too, but I’ve spent the last couple of months dreading his next attempt to get me to want him in bed. He made “I want you to want me.” His ringtone when I call him for crying out loud. But, I really do love him. He’s handsome in a way that is somehow rugged and dorky at the same time, he’s way stronger than he looks, and he is beyond romantic. I still remember on our fifth date, we went to see a fireworks display for the fourth of July and, when I looked down from the show to see his face. Fred’s eyes were fixed on my face, with a look of love and devotion like none I had ever seen before on his face. After a moment he said “I love the way you look when you’re this joyful. It makes me want to keep you as happy ae I can, just for the chance to see it again. A month ago he got to see that look more strongly than ever, when he proposed to me.

But I have to think back to those good times and remind myself of why I love Fred whenever he brings up sex. He insists that once a week is the average frequency for couples. I did a little bit of “research” on that. By which I mean a Google search and reading the AI overview. I couldn’t believe the average is that high, there must be a dozen sex freaks for every normal person like me. Or, maybe that is normal and I’m the freak. The more insistent Fred is about it, the more certain I am that that is the case. I hate it, but his behavior does fit the idea of a guy who legitimately cares about me deeply, but is sick of jacking off every other day, and desperately wants something more.

So, when I saw his little notes, it made me think. He really is trying to find a way to make things work, and I really shouldn’t hold it against him, but dear God am I sick of this subject. So, I thought that, maybe I can kill two birds with one stone. I would be supportive of Fred and kill this fucking topic off for good, all in one fell swoop. Besides, who knows? Maybe his suspicion is correct. I never really thought of food being a ramp onto sex before, but I honestly never thought of anything as such.

So, I figured that I’d do a test of my own in secret, since the open one was two weeks away anyway. It started out in a very standard context next morning I had cereal, as I often do. I was still kind of hungry after finishing a bowl, as I often am. But, I normally choose to ignore that feeling and be at least a little bit strong to watch my figure. This time I got a second bowl of cereal, and ate it while imagining what I would look like if I always had two, or three, or four, or. . .

The next thought I had that I remembered by that night was that, maybe Fred was right. A thought that I had as I laid in bed next to him. I had never wanted to fool around twice in such rapid succession before. I figured that he was probably right, but that I still wasn’t a hundred percent positive. Then, after another two attempts to focus on food and gaining weight, which both ended the same way, I found myself saying “Okay, I think it’s safe to say you were right.” As we lay next to one another naked. Fred turned to me and said “Right about what?” I said “You know.” To which he smiled and nodded as he said “Yeah, but it’s so much more fun to hear you say it.” I rolled my eyes and groaned, “Fine, I think that eating really is a turn on for me. Every time we’ve had sex recently was after I ate more than usual. I’ve been trying to focus on the idea and think about it, but I’ve gotten nothing but that I want to go to bed when I do that. I just wish I knew why.” Fred said “Okay. I know I just sound like im being a horndog, but I think I know how to find out more.” I half giggled, half sighed and said “What, have more sex?” To which he replied, “Actually yes, just hear me out on this.” I motioned Fred to go on, and he said “Okay, what you can do to find out more is this. Keep eating, and keep thinking about sex and fat while you do. Pay close attention to when you want to do more, and see exactly what thoughts coincide with what desires. Then, and I know this sounds like wishful thinking, but you’ll have to be scientific about this. Like, get a sample size and do replicates. Then say, ‘oh, eighty percent of the time sex is preceded by my thinking about gaining weight. So, maybe it’s less about eating and more about fat.’ Then do that again with each variable, till you can figure out exactly what thoughts lead to what actions.” Well, he was right about one thing. He did sound like a horndog. I said “Seriously, is this all wishful thinking?” to which Fred laughed and said “Probably some of it, subconsciously. But not that I know of explicitly. I really do think that would be the most effective way to gather info.” I said “Hhmm, let me think.”

Whether conscious or not, I suspect that I played right into my boyfriend’s hands. Because, before the original two week point was even met, we ended up sleeping together another three times. But, to Fred’s credit, it seemed like he may have been right as well. Because, I did realize something over that time. I like the idea of eating too much, but I LOVE the thought of telling the world to ***. Of saying “You want me to lose weight? Well, *** too. I’m gonna go put on ten pounds. Don’t like it? Well, there’s another twenty. Want to try for fifty? A hundred? Just keep talking.” Hell, I even started liking stuff that wasn’t anywhere near that. Like, I damned well know that Fred wants me to sleep with him as much as is possible. He outright admit it even. But I started to enjoy that more as it led to my eating more too. It’s like each pound is gained was sticking it to the man a little more.