chapter 1

Watching him walk toward the Starbucks inside our local Barnes and Noble, I smile, remembering how far he's come. How far we've come together.

My once 190 feedee is now a round 245 in a tshirt from his past, too tight, his belly hanging an inch or two below the bottom. The button on his jeans is screaming in pain.

In line in front of us are typical L.A. peeps. Hank has had a harder time here than he has in his hometown. Everyone is fit. There are both men and woman, a couple in workout clothes, a couple of teenage girls. A man bumps the arm of the woman he's with to turn and look at Hank. He snickers. The teenage girls snicker too, even more graceless about it.

"I don't really want a coffee that bad afterall", Hank says, and turns away from the line.

"Hey, hey, hey." I gather him in my arms, holding him tight against me, hiding his exposed tummy. I kiss his neck. "I love you, you're a person, baby, like everybody else, entitled to do whatever you want. Now let's get you something sweet. You know you want it." I'm getting wet from his softness being pressed against me.

"Why did I have to wear this tshirt?" he asks.

"Because it's hot", I say.

I take his hand and get in line, showering him with kisses and hugs. Let them see it's okay to love a fat man. Let them see how little I care what they think. He cares though. I know he much he does.

I order a nonfat vanilla latte for myself, and a caramel Frappuccino with extra whip for him, plus 4 giant cookies to take home.

My fingers sneak beneath his tshirt and tickle the ultra soft skin of a love handle as we wait for our order.

"Soft huh?" he asks.

"Like ermine or baby skin." The fatter he gets, the softer his skin is, it's so delicate now.

Everyone is staring.

"***", is whispered behind us. I whip my head around to find the offending culprit.

"Let it go, let it go, let it go", Hank pleads.

I sigh, and cuddle him close to me. I pull him into a deep kiss that floods his senses, and I can physically feel him relax, feel the nervousness and pressure leave, as his body is limper and even softer against me. The belly I didn't know he was holding in releases, softens, and plumps out even more against me. He's too distracted to be embarrassed as we wait.

"Hank!" the barista cries out. I collect our drinks. I wrap an arm around his thickening waist and we leave.

Over a Year Later

Moving Hank's stuff into my apartment has been a nightmare, but at least it's done.

The line is long in the winter to get coffee, it's a frigid 55 degrees outside. I rub his hip and snuggle against his belly. The scale said 325 this morning.

Without thinking, he stretches...and his tshirt pop ups and exposes his entire fat belly.

"Oh God", he says, pulling it down, as the stares get worse.

I kiss his cheek. I order us the usual.

"I need to sit down a second", he says, rubbing his lower back.

"You okay?" I ask, and take him to a table while we wait.

"My back is acting up", he says. I sit and rub his lower back.

"Hank!" I jump up for our coffees.

We get home, and he's finished his big sugary drink, and feed I him the cookies, we're up to six cookies the size of dessert plates at a time now.

"Do you think there's the slightest chance...I mean...you'd want to make this permanent?" he asks, catching his breath.

"Well, I have a wedding present to ask for", I say, thrilled.

"What's that?"

"A 400 pound groom. Think we can pull it off?"