Chapter 1

Michael’s Story (based on actual events)
Chapter 1

I met Ann when I was a senior in high school. We both had Economics class together. She sat in the row of desks next to me—just one seat ahead. I remember spending most of the class time staring at her chubby thighs, hoping the hem of her skirt would ride up enough for me to see the top of her pantyhose. It was as if she could read my mind because every time her skirt rode up, she would turn her head to look at me, smile and then tug it back down.

Not only did Ann have sexy legs but the rest of her was hot also. She was petite, standing 5 foot 2 and weighing about 105 pounds.

She had a curvy hourglass figure—with full perky boobs, a thin waist, and a round firm butt. Ann's face was pretty, with delicate features, sparkling eyes, and a warm smile.

Every day after Economics, we would chat as we walked to our next class. It was during one of these walks that I got up the courage to ask her out on a date.

To my surprise, she accepted.

I remember how high I felt when I kissed Ann for the first time on the doorstep of her house after our date was over. Two years after that kiss, we got married.

After our wedding, Ann and I moved into a small apartment together. We had never lived on our own before, nor had we experienced the freedom to do whatever we wanted. So, we smoked a lot of weed, drank wine, and ate a lot of junk food.

I worked as an investment broker, which meant that I sat at a desk all day, talking on the phone. Each workday morning, I would get up and drive into downtown St. Paul, enjoying a joint along the way. Once downtown, I met up with two of my coworkers at a restaurant where I had a hearty breakfast. At 11:30, I would once again go out to eat at a restaurant with the same two guys. I usually had a couple of glasses of wine with my meal.

Ann worked for a lumber broker in downtown Minneapolis. She skipped breakfast—unless you count the two donuts she ate at her desk each morning as 'breakfast.' For lunch, she had a candy bar, a bag of chips, and a Coke, all purchased from the vending machine in the lobby of her office building.

When we got home after work, the first thing Ann and I would do was to sit down on the sofa and smoke a joint together. Once we were sufficiently stoned, we would eat the fast food I brought home, drinking a couple of glasses of wine as we ate. After dinner, we would snack on chips or popcorn while we watched the TV.

Because Ann and I could always eat whatever we wanted and still stay thin, it never occurred to us that we might gain weight.

One Monday morning, as I was getting dressed for work, I noticed that my pants were uncomfortably tight around my waist. The waistband pinched my skin, making it a struggle to fasten the button.

When I mentioned this to Ann, she shrugged it off, saying it was “no big deal” and suggested I simply have a tailor let out the seams on all my dress pants.

Possibly due to my struggle with my pants, I took a closer look at Ann and noticed that the pencil skirt she had chosen that morning tightly hugged her hips and thighs. The length of her skirt had also seemed a bit shorter than usual, now riding just above her knees. Her blouse appeared to be unusually snug, the fabric pulling slightly at the seams. The buttons, in particular, seemed to strain, as if they were fighting to remain closed against the added tension.

My gaze drifted downwards, and I couldn't help but notice the bulge in my pants at my groin area. My penis was engorged with blood, straining against the fabric of my clothing. The sensation sent a shudder through me, and I reached down to adjust my clothing, only to find that no amount of tugging and pulling could hide the undeniable proof of my arousal.

And it occurred to me that I was not only turned-on by the sight of my plumper wife, but I was also excited by the realization that my own body growing fatter.

Up until this time, I had no idea that had a fat fetish, even though I might have figured it out from the clues. For example, when I was a young boy, alone at home, I used to stuff a pillow under my shirt, parade around in front of the mirror in my sister’s room, and imagine that I was fat. Doing this would arouse me sexually. When I was a teenager, I got a hold of a magazine that had pictures of naked girls with big boobs. The one photo that I always masturbated to was of an older woman that was overweight in addition to having big breasts.

Now, as I stood there, my cock throbbing against my pants, I realized that my old desire about fat had become known to me, manifested in my attraction to not only my wife’s expanding body but also in my own growing paunch.

After work the next Friday, I brought up the subject of our weight gain with Ann while we were smoking our weed.

"I suppose my pants are tight because I am gaining weight," I confessed.

"I think we are both gaining weight," Ann countered.

"Does it bother you that I am now fatter than when you married me?" I asked.

"Not really," she replied. "Do you mind that I am fatter now?" she asked.

"No, Hon, I think you look terrific," I answered sincerely.

Up until that time, I had always been totally honest with Ann, so I decided to tell her everything and hope for the best.

"But Hon, there is something that I learned about myself that I think you should know about... I discovered that your weight gain really turns me on," I paused before continuing, "and I was hoping that you could get even chubbier."

"You do?" she said, sounding confused.
"And here is the weird thing... I get excited about the thought of us gaining weight together."

It seemed like it took forever for Ann to say something. When she did finally speak, I was shocked by what she said.

"I'll make you a deal... I'll gain weight for you if you get fatter for me."

This was going better than I could have imagined.

"That's a deal," I replied, and immediately felt my penis become hard.

“Before we go any further, we should see what we weigh now,” Ann suggested.
I think my dick got even harder after she said that. So, when we got up to walk to the bathroom where the scale was, Ann could not help but see my massive boner.

“Holy shit! she exclaimed. I guess that you weren’t kidding about getting turned-on by this.”

We removed our outer garments and took turns stepping on the scale.

I weighed about 165 pounds when Ann and I got married. As I stood on the scale, wearing only my boxer briefs, now tightly stretched over my erection, I was shocked when the display on the scale said that I weighed 187 pounds.

Ann weighed about 110 pounds when we moved in together. Wearing only her panties and bra, she could not believe that now she weighed 122 pounds.

Weighing our mostly naked, plumper bodies got us so horny that we furiously stripped off our underwear – we hugged, deeply kissed, and stumbled into our bedroom. There we engaged in some of the most energetic and passionate sex of our lives!

After each of us had an incredibly satisfying orgasm, we both laid in bed feeling ravenous. Suddenly, we both realized that we had not eaten any dinner yet. Being anxious about the conversation I expected to have when I got home, I had forgotten to pick up any food. So we decided to have food delivered to us.