Chapter 1

It wasn't just a large pizza, of course it wasn't. It wasn't enough for Kelly to see me eat a 20" pizza by myself in one sitting. Of course it also had to be a deep dish pizza with a thick, dense, greasy crust. Of course it had to have an obscene layer of cheese on top. And of course it had to have every kind of meat piled high on top of it all.

She watched like a hawk through every single bite. As the greasy cheesy pizza took residence in my stomach and sat there like a lead weight, she watched me.

As I ate what felt like pounds of carbs and dairy and meat, she watched me.

As the time between bites stretched longer and my jaw got tired and I grew short of breath, she watched me.

As my poor stomach stretched to contain this gruesome meal and I became uncomfortably bloated and full, she watched me.

As I groaned softly and rubbed my distended gut and loosened my belt and unbuttoned my pants and leaned back with my shirt buttons straining, looking and feeling huge and fat and swollen and pregnant and glutted to my eyeballs, she watched me.

As I finally chewed and swallowed the last bite and slumped back for the last time, completely undone and defeated and feeling like I had just swallowed a stack of bowling balls, she watched me.

She watched me with a small feral grin, with a quick licking of her lips, with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks and a victorious gleam in her bright eyes. She watched me as I swelled, expanded, ballooned. She watched me with intense rapture, visibly growing aroused, her gaze raking my bloated form as her fingers soon would.

I belched hugely, unable to stifle it. She won and I knew her gloating was inevitable.

"Oh Brett baby, you look like you're just about to pop," she purred with great satisfaction.

I could not argue that. Such was the internal pressure that I was surprised my navel had not yet popped out. A few more meals like this and I was sure it would.

"Alright now, up on your feet," she commanded.

I swore silently. She had been giving me less and less time to recover afterward. I think she just enjoyed watching me struggle.

With a truly disgraceful amount of effort, I moved my bulk to a standing position. I could not keep myself from arching my back to offset the incredible weight of my overstuffed gut. Talk about feeling pregnant, I was ready for maternity pants.

"I don't think you're going to be running this off," she smirked, patting my protruding middle.

The memory of a conversation from months ago came flooding back:

**** "Not worried about a few larger meals?" she asked, patting my firm, flat stomach.

"Nah, I'll just run them off," I replied, tragically not giving a second thought to it.

"You sure about that?" she inquired. "I'm not holding back. If you're going to let me feed you anything I want, you better be ready to eat."

"Trust me, I know how to eat," I chuckled. "I'm sure a few more calories here and there aren't going to be that big a deal." ****

That was before the first time I had been stuffed into a stupor only to have her bring out a cake and feed me three slices. That was before the first time I had the button on my slacks fly off in the middle of dinner. That was before the first time I had to lean forward to look over my recently formed pot belly to see the disturbingly high number on the scale. That was before the first Thanksgiving dinner for just the two of us that ended with me naked and comatose at the table, unable to see Kelly's head as she gave me the most mind-blowing, toe-curling blowjob I've ever received.

To sum up - no, I would not be running this off. I could barely waddle, although I was loathe to admit that to her. To be perfectly honest, I had not been running anything off lately. My rapidly growing waistline could attest to this fact.

I slowly walked behind her as we went up to the bedroom, gently cradling my middle like a forty pound sack of sand. I've heard that there exist goofy little suits that men strap on to simulate what it feels like for a woman to be pregnant. I unfortunately now carried around my own, rather permanent, simulation belly.

"Come on now, we don't have all day," Kelly giggled as she waited at the doorway, swatting my substantial rear as I walked past her.

I stopped in the middle of the room so the next phase could begin. I tried not to roll my eyes as she slowly circled me, tapping her lower lip with one fingernail as if in deep thought.

"Hmm, baby, it looks like something's different about you," she mused with infuriating innocence.

Even now my impulse was to suck in my gut, but I was so thoroughly stuffed that my bulging belly refused to budge.

"Now where did this come from?" she asked rhetorically, patting my stomach. "This certainly wasn't here when we got married a couple years ago. I guess someone has been letting themselves go a little bit, eh? Let's see the damage."

With that she began undoing the straining buttons on my shirt, slowly revealing my tautly swollen sphere of a belly. She slid it off and continued caressing my midsection, her fingers exploring every inch.

"And now what happened up here?" she asked as her attention moved upwards.

She was of course talking about my chest. My once proud pecs were now buried under a thick layer of flab that now gently sat atop the shelf of my gut. I was pretty naturally hairless and always liked that look, but as excess weight started accumulating in my chest I began to grow rather feminine looking breasts. Kelly wasted no time in starting to play with them, kneading the pads of fat and tweaking my nipples.

"Let's get you out of those pants," she said huskily, betraying her arousal.

Her hands slid down beneath my globular paunch and paused.

"Are your pants unbuttoned already?" she laughed in delight.

I wanted to retort that she had damn well seen me unbutton them, but I knew this was part of the game.

"Baby, we just bought you these!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "Are you packing it on that quickly? Oh my, you are really blimping up, aren't you? If you're not careful, you're going to end up getting really . . . fat."

She began to unzip my pants and paused again.

"Wow, your belly isn't the only thing that's swollen," she remarked.

It was humiliating but true. Not only did my wife conspire against my waistline, my own body was betraying me in a very visceral fashion. It turned out that being stuffed to the rafters was a real kickstarter for my libido. That was probably part of the reason that I had been derailed so quickly and thoroughly. There was no hiding my very visible physical response to the experience of being overfed and fattened which of course only spurred Kelly on more. As vexing as it was, I experienced just as much pleasure from this as she did.

I groaned softly as she ran her fingers up and down the cloth-enclosed length of my member. She loved to tease me and really draw it out, getting me quite worked up before moving on to slide my pants down to my ankles.

I awkwardly stepped out of them with her help, unable to bend over myself. Clad in only a too-small pair of briefs (per her request of course), I truly felt like a hog fattened for market. Love handles spilled out over an elastic waistband that was stretched to the max. My enlarged rear was increasingly less covered by the available fabric as more excess calories turned my formerly tight runner's rump into a disturbingly jiggly bubble butt.

With a mischievous smile she knelt down to tug my briefs down as well, chuckling to herself as they caught around my rather thick thighs. Again I stepped out of them with her help, but this time she didn't stand back up right away. While I had difficulty looking over my domed middle, I could certainly feel her fingers as they stroked the inside of my thighs and her lips as they pressed against the underside of my belly.

I really didn't need too much to rev up the engines at this point, standing at attention quite firmly already. Nevertheless she knew how to use fingers and tongue to push me right to the limit. All I could do was hold the swollen sphere of my gut and puff and moan as she teased me.

Finally she had had enough, standing up while still keeping me in a firm grip with one hand. She guided me backward until my legs bumped against the bed and then released me as she pushed me to a sitting position. I glanced down, my growing stomach was starting to take up a disturbing amount of my lap.

"Lay down and scoot back," she commanded.

I did so, slowly, with a fair bit of grunting. Then I peered over the bloated dome of my gut as she sensuously slid out of her own clothes. She bit her lip as she gazed upon my prone form, my excitement evident and my satiated state even more so.

I had learned that the more I had been stuffed into a stupor and thusly struggled to maneuver myself during our intimate moments, the more it seemed to arouse and energize her. I had to admit, it was incredibly sexy to see her lose control to her baser desires and be truly dominating in bed.

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