chapter 1

“Are you sure?” she said to me as she stood hovering over me with her left hand upon her hip, her right hand holding a giant glob of cheesecake that was dripping all over. “Is this really what you want?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I said from where I lay upon the bed. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“I know you’ve thought about it, Adam, but is it really what you want or is it just a passing fantasy?”

About a week ago I had told my girlfriend Sasha that I wanted her to fatten me up, and I meant it. All my life I’ve been fascinated by fatness, and in spite of my naturally slender frame and fit physique, I really was very curious to know first hand what it felt like to be obese.

“You know,” she went on, “being this fat isn’t all fun and games. There’s a lot that you’ll have to deal with as a fat person.”

“Like what?” I asked, my mouth watering as I glared at the massive slab of cheesecake in her hand.

“It’s a lot of work carrying all of this around,” she said, grabbing a big handful of flab from her exposed love handles peaking out from underneath her tight-fitting tee shirt. Her bulging belly spilled over the top of her pajama bottoms like an oversized mushroom cap, her layers of flesh rippling with each subtle movement she made.

“Is it?” I said, rubbing my legs together eagerly.

“You’ve seen me trying to climb the stairs,” she said. “There are some days when it feels like I might not even make it. I get so winded I have to stop and catch my breath halfway up.”

Sasha is a short and stout woman just a little over five feet tall. She has big brown eyes that peer at me through wide-frame glasses that make her look older and wiser than her twenty-six years. Her hair is dark and thick and hangs in long spiraling curls bobbed just above her shoulders.

When I met her she was just a little over three hundred pounds, but in the six months or so that we had been living together she had put on over a hundred and fifty pounds. I guess she figured my love for fatness gave her permission to indulge herself, and indulge she did.

“People will never look at you the same way either,” she continued. “Everywhere you go for the rest of your life, people won’t see you anymore.”

“They won’t?” I asked, still eyeing the slab of cheesecake in her hand longingly.

“No,” she said. “All they will ever see for the rest of your life will be some fat guy. No one will ever say, ‘Hey, here comes Adam. Let’s see what he’s up to.’ Instead they’ll be like, ‘Oh, look out. Here comes that big fat guy. Hide the food because he’ll probably eat it all.’”

“They’d probably be right!” I quipped, reaching out to grab for the cake in her hand. She pulled it away quickly and glared at me sternly, choosing to prolong her teasing.

“You know they have all sorts of colorful names for us,” she said as she inched closer to the bed, her big gut pressing up against my side. “Fat-ass, fatso, fat pig — they just love making fun of us. I don’t know why.”

Her breath was getting heavy and labored as it often did, partially from excitement and partially from just talking so much. She started to lick at the bits of cheesecake that had dripped down her arm, torturing me all the more. I could feel my member swelling down below, gently nudging at the confines of my cotton sleepwear.

“Feel this,” she said, and she took my hand and placed it upon the bare flesh of her exposed belly. Her skin was so warm and soft, it felt like a massive loaf of freshly baked bread taken straight out of the oven. “Do you like that?”

“I love it,” I gasped, losing my eyes as I exhaled.

“You like the way that feels?” she asked again.

“Yes,” I said. “I really do.”

I began to run my hand up and down the curvature of her abdomen, digging my fingers ever so lightly into her softness. There was something so incredibly comforting about the tactile sensation of touching her; I truly could never tire of it.

“You want your belly to feel like this?” she asked. “You want your belly to be all big and soft and heavy like mine?” She reached down inside her waistband with her free hand and grabbed a hunk of the lower part of her belly apron, pulling it out and letting plop down on top of me. It indeed felt very full and heavy.

“Yes,” I said again. “I really do.”

“Because you know, once you get this big and fat, there’s no going back.”

“I know.”

“I mean once you give in and let yourself get really big, you’ll never be the same again. You’ll always be big and fat — even if you lose some weight, you’ll still be fat forever.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s part of what I love about it. That I’ll be permanently altering a part of myself. I’ll be changing myself in monumental and lasting ways.”

Sasha continued to gaze down upon me through her glasses, the lenses of which now appeared to be fogging up considerably. The temperature in the room felt like it was rising, and that slab of cool cheesecake was melting more and more by the minute. I couldn’t wait to get it inside of me.

“Listen,” I said. “I don’t know why, but all my life I’ve always been in love with fat. For as long as I can remember, the idea of being with someone who was as fat as you, or being that fat myself was just so exciting. The fullness, the roundness, the heaviness — all of it so appealing.”

I watched as she started licking her lips. I could see that she was getting every bit as turned on as I was.

“None of us know what tomorrow will bring,” I went on to say, “but right now in this moment, Sasha, all I know is that I want you to feed me. I want you to feed me and stuff me until I get so full I can hardly breathe. I want to eat and eat, and get fatter and fatter — but I don’t just want to get fat; I want you to make me get fat!”

The rate of speed and intensity in which I was rubbing her belly increased, and I could feel her hand reaching down and touching my leg. Her glasses seemed to be getting steamier, such that it was difficult to tell if she was even still looking at me.

“I want you to fatten me up,” I told her. “I want to get big and fat just for you. For you and only you, Sasha!”

“You think you can keep up with me?” she said, leaning forward and taking a little nibble from the cake in her hand. “You’ve seen how much I can pack away? You think you can handle this lifestyle?”

“I sure do want to try,” I pleaded.

“Come on, now,” she said, pulling away slightly. “I think you can do better than that. If I’m gonna feed you I want to know that you’re ready to eat.”

“I’m ready!”

“Are you? Are you ready to be my fat little pig and eat up everything I give you — and still be begging for more!”

In that moment I decided to be playful, and I held my hands up to my chest like they were my paws, and let my tongue hang out of my mouth as I started panting heavily, acting like I was a hungry little puppy begging for food. A little drizzle of drool dripped down and landed on the from end of Sasha’s big belly.

“You are too damn cute!” she cackled, and before I knew it she shoved the entire slice of cake into my open mouth. Before I could even finish chewing and get half of it down my throat, Sasha was wobbling her way back toward the top of the dresser in our room, where there was a wide array of desserts laid out: pies, cakes, pastries and cookies. She quickly grabbed a pie in one hand and a cake in the other and waddled back toward the bed.

“I’m going to make you get so fat,” she said as she climbed up on the mattress, taking care not to drop or spill either of the desserts she was holding, then she slid her way over toward me on her knees and startled my body as she mounted herself on top of me. “I’m going to stuff you like a Christmas ham!”

“Oink! Oink!” I grunted like a pig, my mouth still half filled with cheesecake, my face slathered in the white creamy substance.

All at once Sasha set the pie and the cake down on either side of me, and began grabbing large fistfuls of each and violently stuffing them into my face. “You want to get fat?” she said, “I’ll make you fat! I’ll make you good and fat! You’ll get so big and round you’ll need a forklift to get you out of this bed!”

I was in heaven. This was something I’d been dreaming of all my life, but I never thought I’d actually get to experience. Sasha stuffed food into me like it was her job for hours, and when all of the cake and all of the pie and all of the cookies and pastries were gone and stuffed inside my gut, she wrapped her arms around me and licked my dirty face and neck clean. Then she stripped off her clothes and pulled my manhood out from below my now very swollen tummy. She rode me like I was a prize rodeo bull for what seemed like an eternity, climaxing in an orgasmic wave that washed over us both, leaving us both exhausted, fat and completely out of breath.

It was an amazing night — one of many more to come!