Growing for hubby

chapter 1

Early in my marriage I found my husband’s stash of porno magazines hidden in the garage - not your typical Playboys - rather they were ones with big fat girls titled Buf and Plumpers. Layla Lashell and Brie Brown appeared to be his favorites based on the number of stuck together pages. Later that night I questioned him about this and he was ashamed, said he had a thing for fat women. Me at 160 pounds was not his ideal. I told him I knew he liked to rub my front stomach and pinch the pooch that had slowly grown there, but had no idea he wanted me bigger. Then and there I vowed to make my hubby happy. Told him I would put the feed bag on and get as big as he wanted me to. He was ecstatic and the sex was great. Told me “You can never get too big for me.”

Years went by and my body changed for the bigger - softer and fatter - given my constant gorging and complete lack of activity. When passing the 250 mark, family thought I was pregnant - “no just fat” - I replied and kept on stuffing down pizza and ice cream. 2 pregnancies later I passed the big 300 mark - with a nice double belly forming. The weight piled on my body, layer after layer of blubber, mostly on the belly but also hips and ass. Obesity.

Now 15 years later I am 410 pounds and a mass of quivering adipose, subcutaneous, blubbery belly flesh. Every day when hubby comes home I meet him at the door in tight sweatpants, my huge lower belly covered, and with his beer. He smiles and with both hands slides the huge softie mass of lower belly roll goo out from the constricting sweats so it hangs over my waistline. Kitty is hidden. Tells me I have gotten fat. Asks me if I know how fat I am. Pinches the goo till it hurts a little. Smacks my roll till it is a little red. Asks me if I have been snacking? Sneaking food between meals? He says it is time to get some real extra weight on me and have the fat apron roll hide my knees. Tells me how much weight I am hauling around and how I won’t be able to climb stairs.

Then he drops to his knees and licks and kisses and kneads my huge hanging belly, and we go have sex. I tell him how much fatter I am going to get for him every day and he empties himself into my fat pussy. I like it on top. Then he funnel feeds me and I gorge a half gallon of ice cream.

Hubby makes sure the house is filled with all kinds of fattening snacks and I gobble them down for him. He has never strayed because he has what he most loves at home, an obese, blubber belly, lazy wife who is headed to 500 pounds for him. We get looks when in town at the buffet, and when he parades me at the beach with my massive heap of goo shaking on my waistline as I waddle along, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Get fat for your man, ladies.