Chapter 1

Now sit right there and I'll tell you all about how my life got flipped upside down... Sorry, I love that song. But my life did get turned upside down. If you want to know more, go ahead and keep reading. If not, I'm not certain why you even opened the page, but feel free to leave at any point. Now that that's out of the way, my name's Kurt.

I suppose it all started when I was in college. When I'd started two years before, I was a pretty average looking guy. Im about 5'10", and was slightly on the thicker side then. By my junior year though, I had ballooned. I'd never watched my weight, and adding beer and buffets to my diet threw my weight into the deep end. Except instead of sinking it floated higher and higher... You probably got that, I shouldn't explain my metaphors. I hadn't stepped the scales in six months, when the 350 rated scale told me I weighed 5 pounds. I knew in my subconscious though, I had to be over 400. I'd never been a confident guy, but my weight sent me even lower. My day when this started was a pretty average day, so I'll just go ahead and tell you about it.

I woke up about 8; my first class was at ten, but it took me some time to get going in the morning. First thing to do of course was get out of bed; that took quite an effort on its own. I heaved myself to a seated position, and felt as my fat gut rolled over my thighs like a rising tide. My breasts fell to rest atop the curve of my stomach, and my second and third chins fought to find the best place around my collar. I then turned, letting my feet fall to the floor; they hit the ground with a harder sound then you'd expect. I always wear sandals, so my feet were fairly hard still. My legs were a different matter. While often outshone by my gut, my legs were still bigger around than a small guy's (or average lady's) waist. My thighs were even beginning to fold around my knees, although they weren't quite getting in the way yet.

After that I stood up straight, beads of sweat forming in my forehead with the effort of lifting my *** off the bed. I stood with my hand against the bed post for a moment to catch my breath. Then I started to get dressed. I pulled on a shirt that probably could have been a full size dress for a fairly hefty girl. I stepped into a pair of jeans with the numbers 68-34 on the tag. I buttoned them underneath my belly; that left the bottom of it peeking out under the shirt, but I preferred to be comfortable. I put on a belt, already on its last notch, straining around my waist.

I went about my morning routine. I lived alone in my apartment, so I didn't have to worry about any people bothering me yet. I brushed my teeth, flossed, drank a few glasses of water, normal stuff. I grabbed my bag (a normal backpack didn't fit around my torso) and walked out the door, my massive belly swaying with my slightly waddling gait. Walking at least was fairly easy, once I got going. I was used to walking around everywhere in town. I didn't like driving, even when I was thin, and the busses weren't worth a damn in that town. It took me perhaps 20 minutes to get to campus, and in another ten I was at the mess hall. There were probably 40 students in there that morning, about average for that hall. To my surprise, I saw Brigitte alone at a table.

I'd never thought of Germans as a particularly attractive people, but Brigitte was beautiful. She was the same height as I was, but if she weighed more than 120 I'd eat my school bag. She had long light brown hair that she kept loosely bound behind her neck, and her face was slightly narrow with a short, straight nose. Her neck was a little longer, with a deep collar exposed by her shirt. Said shirt bared just enough cleavage to inspire an overactive imagination such as mine. Her arms were thin, probably no bigger than my wrists, and became beautifully long and manicured hands. She had a waspish waist, not extremely so though. Her hips flared slightly, but her lower body was an unknown to me, as I'd never seen her without a full length skirt, usually a baggy one.

She usually sat with a small group of friends for breakfast, she of course having yogurt or salad most days. But today they were no where in sight. But still, I placed my bag on the table next to hers, instead of with her. I enjoyed seeing her, but I had no doubt the feeling was far from mutual. I went to get breakfast; I had timed it as usual, so I had an hour to eat before I had to go to class. I piled my tray high, a full slide of bacon, a dozen or so scrambled eggs, a head sized pile of hash browns, and a pitcher of whole milk.

I sat down, facing Brigitte's back as she picked at a salad. I didn't look at her for long, instead I dug in with gusto. It takes heart to eat as fast as I did you know. The food slowly filled the great chasm in my stomach, like using a straw to fill a 5-gallon bucket. It took me about half an hour to finish my tray. Normally I used the rest of the time to sit and digest, but the last week I hadn't quite been full. I thought about it for a moment, then got up to get more food.

"You must have hungry today!" I heard Brigitte's musically low voice behind me and almost jumped. She was smiling and laughing as she walked by. "Til class!" She said. I struggled to say yes past my embarrassment. I knew she wasn't making fun of me; she was far too good natured for that. Or at least seemed to be. But I was mortified by having been caught being even more gluttonous than usual. I looked back towards the buffet line, and made a tray only slightly smaller. When I was done, I had to leave, despite my being so full I could hardly walk. Instead of sagging down, my gut pushed forth, like a beach ball slightly over inflated. I dragged myself into class and sat down just in time. I was red faced and panting, so I didn't realize that of course I'd chosen a seat right behind Brigitte.
Thank God she didn't turn around. She had to have noticed, but at least she didn't draw attention to me. I pulled the hinged writing surface, expecting to get it close enough to use. Instead my protruding belly kept it out of the arc of my writing hand. I'd be using my full reach just to scribble. I resigned myself to the bad day I was clearly having. As the professor spoke, I barely took any notes. Instead just listening close, and hoping I would remember later.

The class ended without further incident.