chapter 2

"Mm," I grunted as I gulped half-and-half, washing down my breakfast. Lucy was absorbed in her laptop. I tilted back to drink more, but the carton was empty. It was the last carton, too. "Luce, can I use your pen?"

"Sure," She pulled it from her gnawing mouth and handed it to me. "It's a little spitty."

"Ew." I took it from her and wiped it off on my napkin. I could feel my forearms wobble as I rubbed the pen dry. The creases at my wrists had gotten deep. Do my shirtsleeves still fit? I wonder. I've only ever measured neck and waist; never thought to measure my wrists. Well, whatever. Most likely those shirts don't fit at all. When was the last time I wore them? Not even my loosest polos reach to cover my belly. ***, I'm fat.

Lucy still faced her laptop, but her eyes now peered over her glasses and fixated on my fat arms. She really was only now noticing how I've fattened up lately - all her attention was on my plumper arms, those creases, all that new fat. I liked watching her watch me.

I moved my hand slowly down to my plate. Her eyes followed. I grabbed the last sausages and mopped them through the butter and syrup (back and forth a couple of times to really showcase my folding wrist chub), then brought them dripping up to my mouth. I filled my cheeks as I shoved them both in, then licked my fingers as I chewed. Lucy still hadn't said a word. I dabbed syrup off my flabby chest, my double chin bulging as I looked down, upper arms rolling over themselves as I licked my chubby fingers clean again. Then I leaned back and sighed. Lucy just stared at my belly.

"So how's the search?"

She looked up at me. "Huh?"

I let out a soft belch. "Have you found any bigger pants?"

She smiled, "Mm hm - you've still got a few choices. We should order today to make sure you've got stuff to wear. And I'll need to get your measurements."

"Measurements? Just get the next sizes up."

"Oh, I have: 10x and 12x, same in shirts. Also got a couple of bathing suits. But I'm still going to measure you. This is a big gain, chubs."

"Fair enough." I looked over to the kitchen and smacked my lips, "I'm going to finish the donuts and the casserole." I drummed my belly and sat up. Lucy held out her hand.

"Wait-- my pen."

"Oh." It was in my hand; I'd forgotten about it. "Hold on." I grabbed the shopping list we kept on the dining table and scribbled 'half and half'; then thought a moment and also wrote 'cream'. There's never enough cream. I handed her the pen with another soft belch. "Pardon me."

"Not at all."

I stood. I had been eating for over an hour, and all this talk about how much fatter I was had me feeling pretty obese. Standing took some effort. Once up, I pointed my belly toward the kitchen and got myself moving, everything swaying in my sweats. Lucy now just openly ogled me as I waddled around the kitchen refilling my platter with the last of the breakfast food.

"Baby," she said.

"Yeah."

"You&ap os;re really getting fat."

"Mmf," I answered best I could; I was finishing the sausage casserole.

"No, like super fat."

I swallowed. "Are you surprised?"

"No, I guess not."

"Are you upset?"

"Gosh, no. But you've just blubbed out."

I buttered a donut and took a bite. "Are you worried I might not realize what I'm doing?"

She shook her head with some glee, "I think you know exactly what you're doing."

I took another bite, then smiled and kept on until I'd stuffed the whole thing in. Filled my mouth. Got butter on my lip; I could feel a big dab. Just kept chewing, though, until the pastry was under control. Lucy, quietly grinning, watched it all. Finally I swallowed, and lapped the butter from my lip. The creamy, salty butter melted on my tongue just as the donut's mass of fat and sugar hit my stomach; it felt like my belly dropped an inch. It was exhilarating. I leaned back and groaned, squeezing my rolls. "*** me, I could eat more."

Lucy giggled, "I believe you could."

I looked around at the breakfast scraps. "Is this the last of it? Barely fills my plate."

"You really going to keep on?"

I belched again. "I sure don't feel like letting up."

"Why don't you just clear what's on the counters and we'll go hit the buffets."

My stomach leapt at the idea. "Practical, yet outrageous. I knew I loved you."