Belinda's Dream

Chapter 1

"I had a dream about you last night," she said as they spoke over the phone.

"What was the dream about?" Mark asked her.

"Well," she said, "I was in some kind of an ancient Roman palace or old style bathhouse, sitting in a plush chaise lounge on top of a giant pedestal. There were nude men on either side of me fanning me with giant palms. I was completely naked-and I was fat."

"How fat?" Mark asked her eagerly.

"Very fat," she answered. "At least three hundred pounds."

"Wow," Mark said, "I like where this is going so far."

"I thought you might," she snickered.

"So, where do I come into the dream?"

"Well," she said, "you showed up out of nowhere with this huge bowl of fruit, and you started feeding me grapes and strawberries and pineapple slices and all kinds of things."

"I think I've had that same dream myself," Mark interrupted, "only in my dream I was feeding you donuts instead of fruit."

She thought that was funny and started to laugh-Mark wasn't kidding.

Belinda and Mark had known each other since high school. They sat next to each other in art class and quickly became good friends. They had gone out on a couple of dates, but for whatever reason their relationship never went much further than just a warm friendship. After high school they each went off to college in different states and kept in touch for a while, but eventually drifted apart.

After spending some time living abroad, Mark had recently decided to move back to his old hometown, and he was pleasantly surprised to discover that Belinda had moved back there herself several years earlier. They started reconnecting, and it felt so good to talk with her again after all these years; Mark had always felt as though he could talk with Belinda about anything. It felt like old times, as if the last ten years had never even happened.

"My belly started blowing up like a balloon, getting bigger and bigger," she went on to say. "You just kept feeding me and feeding me, more and more."

"Yeah," Mark said, "that sounds like something I might do."

"I bet you would!" she chuckled. "You were kissing me, whispering in my ear, telling me how beautiful I am and how much you wanted me."

Mark fell silent, hanging on her every word.

"And I remember touching myself, rubbing my belly, feeling how huge and soft it was. I started saying to you, 'Look at me, I'm getting so big!' and you just smiled at me and looked at me with those big brown eyes of yours, saying, 'I want you bigger! I want you fatter!'"

In all of the years that Belinda and Mark had known each other, he had never spoken with her about his interest in feedism or his desire to be with a fat woman until just a week or so before this conversation.

Belinda was by no means what anyone would have considered to be "fat," but she had never been exactly "skinny" either. For as long as Mark had known her, she had always been quite svelte, yet curvy and voluptuous. He had always found her very attractive, and he would often have these kinds of dreams and fantasies about her.

As a teenager he really couldn't understand what it all meant, and he never dared to share these feelings with her or anyone else. It wasn't until he got much older and more secure in himself and his sexuality that he was able to understand and accept these desires that burned inside of him for what they were.

Listening to Belinda describe her dream to him right now, Mark almost felt as if she had read his mind and extracted his deepest and darkest secrets. He was shocked, but also getting very aroused.

"We started kissing passionately," she continued, "rubbing our bodies up against one another. My belly just kept swelling up bigger and bigger, until I felt like I was going to pop. It felt so real, like I really remember feeling like I was so full I was just going to explode."

"Then what happened?" Mark asked.

"That's when I woke up," she said with a giggle.

"Let me guess," Mark quipped, "you woke up and saw your pillow was gone?"

They both started laughing. Then there was an awkward moment of silence. The mutual attraction and sexual tension between Belinda and Mark had become undeniable; they both felt it and could no longer hide it.

"Well," Mark said with a labored gulp, finally breaking the silence after what seemed like an eternity, "I'm not going to lie: I am really turned on right now; that was a really hot dream."

"Yeah," he heard her say on the other end of the phone, sounding kind of out of breath.

There was another brief silence, and for a moment Mark started to wonder if things were going too far. Maybe she wasn't comfortable with taking their long-standing friendship in this new direction. He guessed he wouldn't blame her if she was a little creeped out by this weird dream she had about him.

"I have to tell you, Mark," she said at last, "I am very curious about this fetish of yours."

"Are you really?" Mark asked.

"Well yeah, of course," she told him, "I mean I've always heard that there were guys out there who liked their women to have some extra meat on their bones, but I never thought I'd actually meet one of them. Turns out, I've known one for years and I had no idea."

"I guess it's something that I just didn't know how to talk about when I was younger," Mark said, feeling as though he owed her some kind of explanation.


She asked him when he first discovered that he liked this sort of thing. Mark told her that he wasn't entirely sure, but that for as long as he could remember he had always been fascinated by all things related to fat, feeding, and weight gain.

"I think it might have started with cartoons I saw as a little kid," he told her. "I remember this one movie I used to watch all the time: there was this part where a big fat rat sneaks into a country fair after it's closed, and then he starts eating all of the food that was left behind. He stuffs himself until he's this giant blob, jiggling and wiggling around."

"Oh yeah," she said. "I think I remember that one too."

"And you know," Mark went on to say, "growing up there were a lot of unhappy times in my family."

"Yeah," she said, sounding sympathetic, "I remember a lot of those times."

Mark's parents used to argue all the time when he was a kid, until they finally divorced when he was about sixteen. His kid brother and he got shipped around a lot, between their mom and their dad, and for a little while they even had to go live with their grandmother, as both of their folks were struggling with substance abuse issues. Of course, Belinda was a part of his life during all of that, and she was always there for him to confide in. She really was a great friend.

"Most of the happy memories that I have had have to do with food and eating," he concluded. "Those were the few moments of joy that we had growing up; food was love-I guess somewhere along the way as I grew older, it became something kind of sexual for me."

"I can relate," she said.

There was another long and awkward silence, again leaving Mark to wonder if he had said too much. After a few moments he just came out and asked her what she was feeling about all of this.

"Honestly," she said, "I find it really fascinating and kind of exciting."

"Do you really?" Mark asked her.

"Mark, it's been a long time since you've seen me," she said plainly. "I've changed a lot."

"Really?" he replied. "Changed how?"

After another brief pause, she sighed a bit before revealing her confession.

"I've put on a lot of weight."

It was true that Mark hadn't seen Belinda in many years, and he had no idea what she really looked like. He had seen some pictures of her on her social media profile online; after all, that was how he found out that she was back in town as well. Looking back though, all the photos were posted at least four or five years earlier and most of them were only shots of her face.

"You don't say?"

"I love my body, I love my curves," she continued, "and I love being well fed. So why wouldn't I love the fact that my best friend in the world loves these things about me too?"

"Am I your best friend?" Mark asked her playfully, yet sincerely.

"I think you really are, Mark. I can't imagine my life without you in it. All those years in college when we were writing letters to one another, you were always on my mind. I've missed you so much, and I am so glad that we have reconnected."

"Yeah," Mark said to her, "so am I."

Once again, they paused briefly. Mark could hear her breathing heavily on the other end of the line.

"So am I," he repeated.

After another brief moment of silence, listening to her breathing on the other end of the phone, Mark asked her if she ever thought about the reasons why things had never worked out romantically for the two of them.

"Well," she said, "maybe if we had known this was something we could share things would've been different. Maybe this is the thing that was missing all along for us."

"It's not too late," Mark said.

"It's never too late," she replied.

They went on talking for at least another hour before they both got tired and said good night. By the end of the conversation they had agreed to go out on a date next Friday. There was a new all-you-can-eat buffet that had just opened up in town, and they decided that they should go check it out.

Whatever the future held for Belinda and Mark moving forward, he knew that he was very grateful to have her back in his life, and he was glad that they were in a place where they both felt comfortable being their true selves with one another. Having someone in his life that he could share all of his innermost thoughts and deepest desires with was more valuable than anything else he could think of.

Maybe Belinda was right, Mark thought to himself; maybe now that he had finally put this truth about himself out into the universe, it would be the key to opening up something more meaningful in their relationship. Maybe she really was the one he had been searching for all these years, the woman who could make all of his wildest dreams and fantasies come true-and maybe that was who he would be for her as well.

At that moment, however, all Mark really knew was that he couldn't wait until Friday.