Chapter 2 - ii

So Thursday evening, around 6:45pm, after work, there I was, my heels clacking against the marble floors of the most ornate lobby I have ever seen. I first assumed it to be an extremely fancy apartment building, but there were gorgeous men and women in what appeared to be uniforms that were a hybrid of maid and nurse. It could have been a hotel as easily as it could've been a hospital for rich people.

I approached the front desk. Chandeliers, a piano, large couches...I was still confused as to what Dean was doing in a place like this. But when I saw others in, what I assumed to be, the waiting room, some conclusions began to form.

An obese, young lady, possibly in her early twenties, sat with what appeared to be her mother and father, themselves being very slender people. They were all smiles, as the mother kissed her daughter on the cheek. One of the attractive, male...servants?...doctors?...brought a cart of cakes and desserts, locking it in place by the young woman. The mother picked up a small cupcake and peeled away its skirt. The daughter licked her smiling lips and opened them wide. The mother pushed the entire cupcake into her daughter's mouth, only getting a sliver of frosting on her left cheek. The mother wiped the frosting away with a tissue and kissed her daughter again.

"Ma'am!" A voice shouted, pulling me back to the task at hand. A woman in the waitress/nurse uniform sat behind the front desk, at a desktop, a bluetooth in her ear.

"So sorry, I'm here to see Dean *****?" I give her my name and she quickly pulls me up on some sort of list.

"Mmhmm, looks like he's on the fourth floor. Room 4110. Look here, please?" She said, tapping what appeared to be a small, shiny, black ball.

Assuming it to be a camera, I gave a smirk and held it perhaps a bit longer than necessary. A label with my newly developed picture was printed and she slapped it onto a keycard attached to a clip. I clipped the keycard onto my bag.

"Elevators are straight ahead."

I thank her and continue on my way. I straighten out my skirt and run my hand over the back of my head, hoping to flatten some rogue hairs. After waiting, I board the elevator and get up to the second floor before it stops. The doors open and a lady nursemaid pushes a rather chubby woman in a wheelchair on board.

"Dum-dada-DUM!" the nursemaid faux announces, putting on a show for the adorably smiling chubby woman in her care. "Ready or not, third floor! Here comes the ever-fattening Amber!"

The girl in the wheelchair, who I assumed to be Amber, giggles at this, and yet covers her face in pretend embarrassment. At least, I hope it was pretend. She does seem to be blushing.

"At the rate you're going, it won't be long until you're on this elevator again, moving to the next floor up. By then, you may need slightly larger accommodations, of course. Are you still glad you signed the contract?" the nursemaid asks as she leans over the wheelchair to get her lips within whispering distance of the young lady's ear, yet connecting her gaze with mine.

The woman in the wheelchair nods, albeit hesitantly. But then adds, "ask me again when it comes time to move to the fifth floor."

They both share a laugh. And not knowing entirely what was going on, I gotta say, I chuckle, too.

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Upon entering room 4110, it took a moment for my brain to process what I was seeing.

A thin nursemaid feeding, what I estimate to be, a 400lb fat man, naked but of the sheet draped across his lap. He moans as she draws back a bare fork, the prongs slide smoothly from his food-slicked lips.

He notices me.

"Miranda," the fat man breathes, resting his hands on his dome of a belly. "You're early."

"Dean! Dean?" I stammer, not knowing what to say. How does he want me to react? Is he happy this way? I mean, it's what he's always wanted. Maybe I should congratulate him.

"You're huge," I tell him, with a wide-eyed smile.

"Yeah, must be kind of a shock. Sorry I wasn't decent before your arrival." Dean nods to the nursemaid, whom had already began clearing plates, gathering them all on a pushcart. She leaves, giving me a smile and a nod as she slides past me.

Dean's breathing is labored, like he had been running a marathon. "I thought we could get something to eat."

"Umm, didn't you just eat?" I ask, a bit impressed.

"I did, but I'll be ready to eat again soon." He says between breaths, as he slowly kneads the hillsides of his belly. He then pushes on his broad stomach. He groans, as does his ass. A low, rumbling fart is muffled under his bulk. And although it was buried beneath a mountain of flesh, two globular cheeks, and a thicker-than-usual mattress, I could tell it was the loudest fart I had ever heard from Dean and I lived with the man for nearly eight years.

He had been holding his breath but goes back to deep, repeated breaths after the escaping of gas had ended.

"Sorry," he pants. "That's what getting fatter sounds like."

I could suddenly detect the smell of Dean's most recent meal, which I guess...was the smell of Dean. It had become a part of him now, in more ways than one. And this...aroma he produces is a testament to the calories that have been absorbed by his body. I think about that last bite I saw him take when I first entered and where that bite would settle on his form. And I begin to wonder if I'll recognize it when it re-enters the atmosphere from Dean's enormous backside.

Dean's enormous backside. I can't believe that's a legit sentence now.

"And I guess that's what getting fatter smells like," I respond, playfully fanning my nose.