chapter 1

As I came in from the kitchen I heard a satisfying burp from the dining room, signalling that my husband had finished eating finally. I came into the dining room and started to clean up all the empty plates and dishes that were set up all over the table. My husband groaned and undid his pants letting his huge, soft, belly spill out into his lap. He had put on a lot weight in the last few months and he pretended not to notice the slowing of his pace while he walked over a short distance or the fact that going up a simple four step staircase made him winded and red faced. He preferred to live in denial that he was getting very fat. Ever since he had left work due to stress he had started treating his stress with comfort foods and a lot of sitting on the couch in front of the television every night for hours.

His attitude had changed as well, he had gotten very lazy and whiny about doing anything I asked him to. He would complain that he was too full from dinner or lunch or breakfast or that he was tired and didn't want to strain himself and add stress. I would nod understandingly and get him a beer or something because a good wife doesn't add stress to her husband's daily life right? He hadn't seen the doctor in months and his weight continued to climb higher and higher he had a million and one excuses not to see a doctor either. I knew that it would shatter his self-delusion that he wasn't gaining weight or getting fat. His favourite excuse was that since I was a registered nurse that he didn't need to see a doctor because I would take care of him. He doesn't understand that being a nurse is not the same as being a doctor; to him they are one in the same.

Of course that meant he was left on his own a lot to get his meals when I had to work, I knew that was part of why he was getting so fat. He would hit several fast food places at once and come home to stuff himself on the fatty foods I had to insist he add some good cholesterol lowering foods to his fast food pig out sessions and he would obediently eat whatever I told him to. It made things easier to dose his food with flavourless weight gain powder to help him gain even more weight. I'll admit to being incredibly turned on seeing my fat husband stuff himself daily with more food than a family of four eats in a week. I let him live in delusion because it made things even better when he would frown at his clothes that kept shrinking as he grew bigger or that he would insist the scale was broken when it would read 390 or 400 as his most recent weigh-in showed. He also had a real sweet tooth and would devour any cake or pie I would make in one go and then look likes a sad little puppy when all that remained were crumbs.

We had been married only two years and in that time he's packed on more than one hundred and sixty pounds and I knew I had helped him with that. His delusion is pretty new before he wouldn't care that he was getting fat, he would have even acknowledged that he was gaining and revel in it. I think he's doing this because it's fun for him but that's just me, for all I know he's genuinely in denial that he's gained so much weight in such a short time. I heard the front door open and the sound of heavy books hit the floor; my stepson was home from school. Yes, he isn't my biological son, I married his dad. I was his son's babysitter before, it sounds pretty unusual that he would hire an adult to babysit rather than a teenager but he did. I met him when his son was ten and he has just recently turned fifteen.

He had picked up on his father's weight problem, he came home hungry most of the time and I had made sure to have a meal ready for my stepson when he came home. His father ate most of it before but I had gotten used to cooking for two fat boys and I had learned how to make extra. Mike had developed a waddle and it really showed before he sat down at the table and I put down a plate in front of him, fully loaded with his favourite spaghetti and meatballs.

Thanks mom, you always knows what I like." Mike said.

"Just don't let your father steal it; he's had enough today." I replied.

"I won't." Mike replied.

I put on my coat and grabbed my purse and James my husband peeked around the corner to see what I was doing.

"Where are you going?" James asked.

"I had to pick up a shift at the hospital remember? Make sure Mike does his homework before any TV and don't try to steal his food. It's really childish." I replied.

"I wouldn't steal food from my own son I'm insulted." James said.

"Liar." Mike called from the dining room.

"Play nice boys; I'll be home later tonight." I said.

Once James heard the car drive away he drained his beer and struggled to his feet to waddle towards the kitchen. Mike watched him as he reached for the phone.

"Mom said you had your food today." Mike said.

"Well what your mother doesn't know won't hurt her. I'm still hungry so I'm ordering pizza. You want some?" James replied.

"You mean you'd actually let me have some?" Mike said with a grin.

"You can just say no you know." James said.

"You're really trying to get fat aren't you? Doesn't it bother you to eat behind mom's back after she worked so hard to cook a great meal for you?"

"You can never be too fat son, and besides it's not like she's complaining."

"Oh gross...I'm going to take this in my room before I hurl." Mike said.
8 chapters, created StoryListingCard.php 8 years , updated 7 years
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