Chapter 1 - (no other chapters)

Freddy was out on the balcony with his vape pen, trying to get his nerves to settle down. He felt like his life was a big ball rolling down hill while he ran after it as it got further and further away. For a long time now, he’d alternated constantly between being thrilled and frightened and it was wearing him out. For instance, he was out on the balcony instead of in his own living room in front of his own television. Betty had made him leave the house when he wanted to smoke or vape pot after she decided she was pregnant. That had been eleven months ago.

Freddy and Betty, Betty and Freddy. Freddy always liked the way their names sounded together — they should have lived in the suburbs with a dog named Prince and a friend named Bob. And at first their relationship had been the way their names sounded. They were both nerds, a fat one and a skinny one, and fat and skinny is not a cliche, it is a classic. It works perfectly or at least it did for fat Betty and skinny Freddy. They weren’t the kind of nerds who go to ComicCon, they were the kind that talk a lot about how crowded and noisy it must be. During those golden early days, the only time they’d gotten into a real fight was over the Kirk versus Picard issue and they knew it was ridiculous but had only gotten out of it by agreeing the Federation would benefit if Picard got laid more often and Kirk ditched the toupee.

Then Betty started to put on weight. She’d always put on a pound here or there, always came out of the holidays with a little more fun on her, but this was solid, actual ongoing growth. Freddy didn’t say anything about it because he didn’t want her to stop but he thought about it in the machine shop during the day and it made him hurry home after work so he could get his hands and mouth on whatever new Betty had grown over the day. Then one evening she came out of the bathroom with a dreamy expression of self-satisfaction and a blue pregnancy test and just like that Freddy’s world rotated in a different direction.

It turned out eating for two was not cheap. Giving up pot edibles and comic books in order to pay for Betty’s extra food had hurt Freddy’s feelings at first but he didn’t say anything it. He was the father and it was his responsibility. After he really saw how Betty’s new diet was changing her body, he stopped missing his little luxuries. Betty’s huge new breasts and belly were more than luxurious enough to compensate. Freddy was terrified of the idea of fatherhood, had no interest in babies or children, but he never thought of leaving Betty. Not even when he found out how bad the situation really was.

Betty hadn’t wanted to go to a doctor but Freddy and their friends nagged and nagged until she finally broke down. The last time Freddy had felt real, really real like a human person instead of a character in the Life Show, was when they were in the examination room waiting for the doctor. When he came in, Freddy knew something was wrong the minute he started talking. “I’m sorry if this comes across as blunt but I’m afraid you aren’t actually pregnant. You have a condition called phantom or false pregnancy. It sounds strange but it’s a lot more common than you’d think…”

Freddy could tell Betty had shut down completely. When the doctor finished his speech by warning her that there was no such thing as eating for two and she really needed to start losing weight, she just said, “Well, thank you for that,” and left. Freddy apologized and hustled after her. She refused to talk to him until they were halfway home when sweet Betty who loved everyone hissed with real venom, “Why would he lie to us like that?”

“I don’t know,” Freddy said when what he wanted to say was, ‘Did that actually come out of your mouth? Is your brain broken?’

Then Betty cried, fumbling at the glove box for the tissues. When she was wiping her face after, she said, “I’m sorry, he just made me so mad.”

“That’s okay.”

“I know it’s expensive but could we get some fat food? It’s been an awful day and I need a treat.”

“Sure.” And at the drive through window, when he was handed Betty’s order — three double bacon cheese burgers, two large fries, a diet Coke and a chocolate milkshake — something about the sheer weight of it made him realize something awful about himself. He’d rather have a crazy girlfriend than a pregnant one.

But their friends didn’t feel the same way about it. Once they started realizing that poor Betty had problems, the date nights and day trips got more and more infrequent until Freddy and Betty were all alone with Betty’s belly, which just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger…

The chamber in Freddy’s vape was empty; time to go back inside and have some fun with Betty. She sat on the couch finishing off the last of her sandwiches. Every morning, Freddy took a loaf of Wonder Bread and a jar of Jif and a jar of Smucker’s grape jelly, and made eleven peanut butter sandwiches. He took the one made with the heels to work for his lunch and left the rest in the fridge so Betty didn’t have to cook for herself when he was gone. Freddy bent over Betty and she gave him a peanut butter-flavored kiss while she was still chewing. She said, “I’m still hungry. I think we need to start buying cereal for the baby. The sandwiches aren’t enough any more.”

Freddy cupped his hand against one of Betty’s breasts, measuring it through her dress and bra. Freddy could swear she was bigger now than she’d been that morning. “Whatever you want, sweetie,” he said and dropped his hand to her belly and playfully drew an expanding spiral across the yielding dome of flesh.

Betty pulled her dress up to show off her bulge and Freddy got down on his knees in front of her and kissed the soft mound of flesh over the hard-packed stomach slowly working his way down. When he got to her navel, he swept out a bit of fluff before kissing it as if it were a mouth, tasting her sweat, smelling her flesh, feeling like a happy astronaut marooned on Planet Betty.

Betty made a sweet little sex noise and stroked Freddy’s hair. “I want you on the floor,” she said. When she got on top and they were in bed, Freddy just sank into the mattress. When Betty got Freddy on the floor, she felt heavier, a lot heavier, and since there was no other place for him to go, her yielding flesh flowed over and around him so he was literally imbedded in her. They didn’t do it often because it was hard on her knees but it was their favorite.

Betty used both hands to get both nipples in her mouth at the same time, then used her left arm to hold her deliriously overflowing breasts in place as she worked her right hand under the heavy mound of her belly and between the folds of her thighs as started getting herself ready.

Freddy got a clean towel, then went to the bedroom, stripped, and got four pillows, one for under his head, one for his knees, and two for Betty’s knees. Already erect from the thought of Betty’s weight bearing down on him, he went to the living room, pulled the coffee table out of the way, then arranged the towel and pillows on the floor. Freddy lay down and got properly positioned, hands overhead so he could caress her once she was in place. “Okay,” he said. His own slight weight was enough so he felt pain at hips and shoulders from the hardwood floor. He was about hurt a lot more and he wanted it.

With a strained grunt and a sharp exhalation, like a weightlifter hoisting a too-heavy set of barbells, pretty Betty heaves herself off the couch and waddles ponderously, one step at a time, over to Freddy. She starts at his head and moves slowly over him so he can look up at her thighs and ass and the rotund bobbling bulk of her great big belly and as always Freddy feels a delightful thrill of fear at the sheer size of her — so much bigger than him — that makes him even hornier than he already was.

When Betty passes his feet, she turns to face him, then approaches and positions herself carefully over his hips and slowly lowers her body, intimidating as an unbalanced rock formation, until gravity overpowers her and she drops in place, straddling him, fat clapping against Freddy and forcing the breath out of him in an undignified involuntary grunt, the monument of her blubber covers him from knees to his chin. As Freddy kneads her like dough while he struggles to inhale, she walks her hand between their bodies inches at a time, taking minutes to get her ham of a forearm between her folds but eventually is able to get Freddy’s naked cock inside her — she’d made him stop using condoms after she decided she was pregnant.

The slick heat startles him, it always surprised him even if he’d been looking forward to it all day. His back and ass are painfully flattened to the floor by the weight of Betty’s massive, magnificent gut. Every slight ripple of her flesh grinds him against the unforgiving hardwood. Betty's smile as she shakes herself makes him think she knows and knows he knows she knows... Maybe they should talk about it.

He puts his arms around the vast, gurgling bulk of Betty's child and strains to curl up so he can kiss it.

Betty asks, “What do you say to baby? You know you're supposed to talk to her,” and begins to croon softly, as if comforting an infant.

Freddy presses his face into soft flesh, then turns so he can speak. “I love you,” he whispers to Betty’s belly. “I love watching you grow big and strong and happy.” He kissed Betty’s belly softly, lovingly, over and over.

Betty crooned to them both. “We don’t need anybody else,” she said and Freddy, face hidden in her fat, shook his head. Betty pulled him into the mass of flab until it touched both ears, cutting off his air and holding him there. “Just the three of us.”