All In

Chapter 1

“Oh my God! She’s so fucking fat!” Chester turned around quickly, startled by the sound of my voice. He didn’t hear me walking up behind him, apparently because he was so engrossed by the video he was watching on his tablet. “Don’t scare me like that!” he said before he continued watching his video.I’ve never had a problem with Chester looking at porn. It’s completely normal and natural as far as I’m concerned. Sometimes we even watch it together, which can be fun—kind of a way to kick things up a notch in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. This was different though. I’d never seen him looking at fat-girl porn before. 

The women on the screen were bigger than any women I’d ever seen in a porn video before. Curvy in a way that almost felt exaggerated, like they took up more space than the frame could contain. The video he was looking at showed a big fat lady eating a pizza while some guy was doing her from behind. It was the first time I’d ever seen food incorporated into erotica before. There was something oddly captivating about it, I couldn’t look away. I guess I was just surprised to see Chester watching something like this. I had no idea that this was something he was into.

“So people actually watch this stuff?” I asked, leaning casually over the back of his computer chair, trying not to come off as sounding judgmental.

“Oh yeah,” Chester said, barely able to tear his eyes away from the monitor. “Lots of people.”

He wasn’t defensive, which I appreciated. Chester had a way of being completely straightforward, and I loved that about him. “And you like this?” I asked sincerely. “You like watching fat girls eat while they’re getting fucked?” 

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I do. Don’t ask me why, but something about it is just hot as fuck. There’s something really sexy about the idea of a woman getting fat for her man, letting him feed her as much as he wants and not caring how big she gets.” “You like that?” I asked, surprised to hear these words coming out of my boyfriend's mouth. “How come you never told me about this?” “I guess it always seemed to me like you were a little self-conscious about your weight,” he replied. “I love your size and your curves, and I never wanted to make you feel bad about it in any way.” “You’re so sweet,” I said, and I kissed him on the lips.

I couldn’t argue with him, this stuff was definitely hot, though I also couldn’t put my finger on exactly why. It wasn’t just the women that intrigued me—it was the idea that this was something Chester liked. Something he hadn’t shared with me before, a little corner of his mind I hadn’t explored yet.

“Okay,” I said, sitting on the arm of his chair. “Show me more.”Chester didn’t hold back once I gave him the green light. He clicked through a few videos, explaining things here and there. It wasn’t clinical exactly, but it was definitely a side of him I hadn’t seen before—earnest and eager, like he was sharing something he genuinely loved.

The women on the screen were captivating in ways I hadn’t expected. They weren’t just fat; they were confident, playful, and completely at ease with their bodies. It was kind of mesmerizing. Chester’s excitement was contagious, and before I knew it, we weren’t just watching anymore. One moment I was teasing him about his 'weird little corner of the internet,' and the next, we were tangled up together, giving in to the heat of the moment.Chester was amazing; I’d never seen him so fired up. It was as if the images of hugely obese women stuffing themselves full of food while getting reamed from the other end just put him over the edge. His manhood was sprung so hard, for a minute it felt like he would drill straight through me. 

Afterward, as we lay in bed catching our breath, I couldn’t stop thinking about the images I’d seen. There was something alluring about it, something raw and real. I wasn’t sure if it was the women, the content itself, or just the fact that I’d glimpsed this hidden piece of Chester’s desires. Whatever it was, it stayed with me.

Over the next few days, I found myself getting curious. At first, it was just a casual search while Chester was at work, like I was trying to figure out what had intrigued me so much. I typed “fat” into a popular site, expecting to find... I don’t know, maybe a couple of niche videos. What I found instead floored me.

“Fat” wasn’t just a search term—it was a whole world. The results were endless, and the number of creators and models was staggering. It wasn’t just videos, either. There were full-fledged communities, content creators with huge followings, and even people selling personal videos. Feedism, gaining, belly play—it was a universe I hadn’t even known existed.

I kept scrolling, fascinated. It wasn’t just the sheer volume of it; it was the way these women carried themselves. They weren’t shrinking violets hiding their size—they were flaunting it, celebrating it, and people loved them for it. That kind of confidence was magnetic, and I couldn’t stop watching.

What started as a brief foray into a niche form of fetish porn soon turned into a full-on exploration of self-acceptance and indulgence, wrapped up in something undeniably sexy. Part of me was shocked by how much it pulled me in. I kept asking myself: was it the novelty or the sheer audacity of it? Or was it something else entirely—something that had been lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself?

As I fell deeper into this new world Chester had introduced me to, I couldn’t help but reflect on myself—on my own relationship with my body, with food, with control. I’ve never been skinny, not really. I’m one of those women who hovers somewhere in the middle, constantly walking the tightrope between indulgence and restraint.

I’ve always known that if I let myself go—if I stopped hitting the gym or started saying yes to dessert every night—I’d blow up like a balloon. It’s never been a question of if, but rather when I would get fat. My body has always had that potential, it’s just been waiting for me to slip up and let my guard down.

So I’ve spent my life reigning myself in, keeping my desires in check for the sake of my health, my appearance, and let’s be honest—my pride. The truth is, I’ve never hated my body, but I’ve always felt like it needed managing, like I couldn’t trust it to behave if I didn’t keep a tight grip on the reins.

To be completely honest, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to just let go completely, to stop fighting my natural instincts and give in to the pull of every craving, every lazy morning spent in bed instead of on the treadmill. I’ve fantasized about it more than I care to admit—the freedom of saying to hell with it and just letting myself get fat once and for all.

It’s always felt like a dangerous thought, though, like the first step down a slippery slope I might never recover from. So I kept it locked away, treating it like a forbidden indulgence, but after everything I’ve seen, after the way Chester looked at those women on his screen—with admiration, desire, even love—I couldn’t help but feel that maybe letting go wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

The idea terrifies me, but it also thrills me. For the first time in a long time, I’m starting to wonder what would happen if I stopped holding myself back. What if I didn’t fight it? What if I gave in?Scrolling through all the fat-girl content online became a kind of guilty pleasure for me—something I did late at night when Chester was asleep or out of the house. At first, I told myself it was just curiosity, that I was trying to understand what had intrigued him so much, but the more I looked, the more I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing out on something.

These women weren’t just existing; they were thriving. They were building entire careers out of their bodies, their confidence, their willingness to embrace what most people are told to hide. It was intoxicating to watch, and I found myself wondering, Could I do this?

I’d never thought of myself as conventionally sexy—not in the way you see on magazine covers or Instagram feeds. I was cute, sure. Pretty, maybe, on a good day. But sexy? That was a word I’d never felt comfortable applying to myself. The idea of putting myself out there in any kind of provocative way had always felt out of reach, like it wasn’t a world meant for someone like me.

As I thought it over, I realized that these women weren’t trying to fit into a narrow mold of beauty—they were shattering it. They were big and bold and completely unapologetic, and people adored them for it. They weren’t just celebrated; they were sought after, and the fact that so many of them were making real money doing it—that part stuck with me.

I started to wonder: What if I could do it too? What if I could turn this soft, curvy body I’d spent years keeping under control into something people actually wanted to see? Something worth paying for?

It felt ridiculous at first—like some wild fantasy I had no business entertaining, but the more I thought about it, the more it didn’t seem so crazy. After all, I’d seen the proof right in front of me: there was a whole world out there that didn’t just accept women like me—it celebrated them. 

Maybe there was room in that world for someone like me.

For the first time, the idea of letting go didn’t just feel thrilling—it felt like an opportunity. Something new. Something I might actually be good at. Maybe if I dared to step into this world, I’d finally see myself the way Chester and all those other people seemed to see these women: confident, desirable, and more than enough.