Chapter 1 Steve

Note to the reader: This story has a Point of View that shifts around. I'll put the name of the POV character in each chapter title.


I watched as Darla ate her chicken. She loved fried chicken, and so we got it constantly. Right now she sat directly next to me at the table so I could reach out and hug her if I wanted, which I did occasionally. It also gave me a nice view of her cleavage as she ate, which no straight man would ever complain about. I was honestly getting sick of fried chicken, but Darla loved it, and I loved anything that made her smile, and especially anything that made her eat more. I had been with Darla for just over a year now, and I still hadn’t said a word about the. . . Excitement I got from watching her eat. Or the, even greater excitement I got from seeing her gain weight.

Darla had gone up a couple of sizes in the time I’d known her. She had told herself it was just age, that she had turned thirty, and a slowing metabolism was normal at her age.
I knew that was true, but I also knew that wasn’t the only reason why. I didn’t intentionally try to fatten her up of course. I may be a pervert, but I’m not a monster. But, if she wanted something I never said no. I would offer to grab her food, and if she asked me what we should have I always chose the heaviest option she gave. Okay, maybe I AM adding to her gaining a bit. But watching her do this how could I ever say no? Even if I didn’t love her putting on weight I adored the happiness she had when she ate something she loved. I liked it enough that I would still try to see it if I hated that she was getting chubby.

That’s not the only reason Darla was beautiful, and I don’t JUST mean her spirit. I DID love that, but she was gorgeous too. Her brown eyes sparkled like diamonds, cheesy as it may sound. Her long brown hair was slightly curly, just enough to curl up a bit at the ends where there wasn’t much weight pulling it down. When I met her she was fairly thin, she wasn’t SKINNY skinny, but thin regardless. Darla wore a size 2 when I met her, then it went up to a 4, and recently it hit the point where a 4 or a 6 might fit her on a case by case basis. It was wonderful watching her gaining, and we had the most intense nights together. She may not have known why exactly, but she knew that I was more attracted to her with each passing day, as she put on more and more weight.
Most of the weight she had seemed to gather around her hips. She was a distinct pear shape, she had a big butt, and bigger hips that she swayed in the most alluring way as she walked. I just adored watching as more and more swayed each day.

*Crunch. Another bite gone. *Slurp. Another mouthful of soda. *Gulp another load of calories entered her belly, and the whole time she radiated a kind of joy that made you feel warm just sitting near her. I sighed as I watched her eat. I never wanted this meal to end, and based on her face, neither did she. Darla noticed the lovey dovey sort of look on my face and asked me why. “It just reminds me of the night we met. You always look so happy when you’re eating something good.” And it was true, I adored how happy she was. She accepted my explanation and went back to her chicken.

Darla had always loved her food. It was half of why I NEEDED a second date after our first. The woman could eat, she had more than me at Applebee’s when we met. She was pretty embarrassed about it, and she made countless excuses about how she was a nervous eater and would eat less when she got comfortable with me. I secretly hoped that she was lying or wrong. At first it seemed true, she ate less and less each date. Until she got REALLY comfortable with me. Then she started right back up on eating nice, big, meals.
Darla loved the fact that I never criticized her for her weight, or for her eating habits. She said I was extremely gentlemanly. What she didn’t know was that I really didn’t want to discourage her from stuffing her face. I would regularly get desserts for her when we were out, and always made sure we had ice cream at home. But I never actually told her to eat more, and I never questioned it when she said she was done, or when she said she wanted more of course.

Darla had complained countless times about her gaining, she looked in the mirror and bemoaned her clothes growing tighter. Thankfully, she seemed less and less upset with it as time went on. As she accepted it. Still, she hated it when she started having to buy bigger clothes, and she never got rid of the old one’s, as she always held onto hope that she would get back down to her old size. I never spoke against her losing weight, but I wasn’t especially enthusiastic about the idea either. She seemed to think it was just me being skeptical about her ability to lose the weight. I always told her that I believed in her and knew she could do it. I did believe it, but I hoped I was wrong.

As my mind wandered Darla finished her food, she looked at mine and said “Not feeling hungry hun?” I looked down and realized I had been so lost in thought that I had forgotten to eat. I pushed my food forward and said “Yeah, you want it love?” She grinned and said “Honestly? Yeah, I do. But I’ve been eating too much lately, I’ll pass for now.” I did my best to hide just how sad that made me, as she stared at the chicken in front of me. Then I stood up and said “Well, that’s good, save some room for dessert.” She laughed and said “Dessert?” as I got up and walked over to the fridge, thankfully it was right by our table, we had one of those kitchen/dining room things .
I grabbed two small tubs of Ben and Jerry’s. It was her favorite brand of ice cream, and with good reason. It was damned good. I got two spoons and put the tubs on the table with a spoon set on top of each one and said “Chunky Monkey or half baked? I’m kind of stuck between them, so you pick and I’ll take the other." I smiled as she reached for the tub of half baked ice cream.