Chapter 1 - samantha and simon

Samantha was a nice looking young woman in her early twenties. Simon in his late twenties showed a life time of workouts but he wasn't just a jock he had a nice job as an accountant.

The two met at a bar in Kansas City near the Plaza. Both had a rough week and needed a night out and Samantha headed out with her girlfriends and Simon was playing wing man to one of his friends. He hadn't intended to find the love of his life but as the two of them sat at the bar watching their friends dance and cavort they struck up a conversation ending the eveing with the exchange of telephone numbers.

Samantha hadn't placed much stock in Simon giving her a call since it seemed to her that all the chit chat they exchanged was quite banal. And just as she was beginning to lose hope a call came and it was Simon.

Say I don't know if you remember me but we had quite a conversation a few weeks ago and honestly I figured you were probably not interested in me since you hadn't called but I have been thinking about you ever since that night. Simon said.

Oh yea I seem to remember you. Samantha replied coyly.

Well I have this wedding to go to next week and I was wondering if you would like to go so we can get to know each other better.

A wedding? Now weddings mean a whole different thing to women than men. I don't know.

Really it's just someone from work. Nothing big just a chance to get dressed up and have some poor chicken and maybe dance a bit.

But I don't know anyone there.

You will know me.

You got me there.

Please I don't want to go stag and I have really wanted to get to know you better and was hoping that maybe you feel the same way.

Samantha did feel the same but she wasn't going to let him know that. Well I guess that would be ok. When is it?

Saturday at 5. The reception will follow.

Now Samantha wasn't ready to give him her address incase he was some sort of creep. I'll meet you at the Plaza and we can go from there.

I can pick you up.

Oh no I am going to be down there saturday anyway so lets just meet up.

Ok. It's a date.

Now Simon wasn't the type of guy she was drawn to but he was classically hansom and as muscled as a greek god. But she did enjoy talking to him and she really didn't have anything to do Saturday.

The week wore on and soon it was Saturday and Simon and Samantha found themselves at the wedding and even though there was a riot of activity going on around them there wasn't a sound but each others voice finding their way through each others head.

I was as if they were meant for each other if you believed in such things. And apparently they felt the same way because it wasn't more than a month later that they found themselves at the justice of the peace and were wed.

A month long honeymoon was not a surprise to their friends having seen the almost sickeningly sweet way the two loved each other.

But it was that first night at home when Simon came home from work and Samantha had laid out a spread that would have made thanksgiving look small.

Wow you sure can cook.

Simon took a bit of this and a bit of that and they sat there and looked into each others eyes as he finished it off. Going back for a few more things Samantha asked aren't you hungry?

Hungry? Are you serious? This is my second helping.

If you don't like it that's ok I can toss it. A tear formed in her eye and Simon said oh no I love it.

She got up from the table and ran off to their bedroom and locked the door.

Simon could hear her crying muffled cries into her pillow.

Honey I love it I really do. Look I am eating it.

Don't make fun of my cooking. She sobbed back at him. If you don't want it don't eat it. I will call out for a pizza.

Pizza? This is great. I am stuffed. Simon sat outside of their room trying to coax her out of the bedroom having his third and then fourth plate. He was stuffed and he really didn't know how he stuffed himself with so much.

After a couple hours Samantha had a good cry Simon thought and came out of the bedroom.

Honey I love your cooking. It was wonderful.

No you didn't I am a horrible cook. She marched into the kitchen and started shoveling the leftovers into the garbage can.

NO! Don't! I love your cooking. Simon tried to stop her but soon the platters were empty.

As she did the dishes Simon watched Samantha, the red eyes and the tousled hair.

The got into bed and although Simon was ready for action Samantha rolled over her back to him and began to quietly sob to herself.

Simon tried to pull her close to him but his now painful gut made it difficult for him to roll to his side and stay there. He found it much easier to lay on his back and rub his abs.

When he woke the next morning he smelled pancakes cooking and even though he had stuffed himself the night before he realized, after heading to the bathroom that he was hungry.

The stacks of pancakes were a sight to behold as Simon came around the corner but he wasn't going to dare upset Samantha again. She popped up to him kissing him on the cheek. I know dinner isn't my forte but I am great at breakfast.

Simon sat down and ate and ate and ate. He ate past the point of pain and into the point of being stressed. Simon still couldn't finish off the mounds of food she had prepared and those sad puppydog eyes she stared at him with made him feel worthless.

His shirts were stretched to the max as he went into work and he plopped into his chair resolving to go work out before he headed home. As lunch approached Simon realized that he was hungry. He had planned on skipping but the rumble made him head out contrary to his intentions.

As the day ended he headed home skipping the gym where he found a banquet laid out once again.

I know what I did wrong yesterday honey. Samantha said greeting her man at the door.

What was that?

I am better at French cooking. English cooking is so bland.

Yea that must be it.

Simon sat and ate till he was bloated but still not nearly much of a dent in the mounds. Those puppydog eyes stared deep into his soul and he felt as though he had let her down.

The pattern continued day in and day out. Simon outgrew clothes faster than a toddler in a growth spurt. By the end of the year he had shot up to three hundred fifty pounds and had lost all definition in his body. He had long since given up his gym membership, much to the delight of the other accountants. He was now looking more like the rest of the firm and their wives no longer looked at him at the holiday parties.

Five years of marriage showed greatly on Simon's body but Samantha wasn't an ounce bigger.

When he rounded out at over 500 he no longer cared to initiate sex. Rather he would lay on the bed and Samantha would bring in a big cheesecake, layer cake or some other kind of pastry. She would prop him up on the pillows at the headboard. She placed the tray on his growing abdomen and would feed him while she rode his cock. It was a good thing he was Italian or he might not be able to be seen at his current size.

She grew from the child that grew in her but it was Simon that really showed the baby weight. He continued to grow and soon his hips swung from side to side and his boobs were more massive than his wife's.

But unlike Samantha, he never lost the baby weight.

And Samantha never told him how her sobbing fits were to manipulate him into eating more and becoming more of the man she wanted. Women had a way of transforming their men.