Chapter 1

He took her hand and led her to the stairway, waving for her to go first. She wondered if he would be watching her ass wobble, while he wondered if she knew he was. He imagined a time when he would feel comfortable fondling it on the way up, commenting to her about it, teasing her, but he knew that would take a little time.

She led him into her dressing area, where the mirrors were, and he whistled. “Nice set up, lady. Pretty ritzy.” She laughed, looking him in the eye, and said, “My clothes take more room than little ones, so I figured I’d just give myself a whole room as a closet. I’ve never regretted it.”

He positioned her in front of the three-way mirror, and stood behind her. He nuzzled her hair, fondling it with both hands, and whispered in her ear “Everything about you is abundant, starting at the very top. All of these curls invite my hands to bury themselves in them, beg my face to be lost in them, surrounding me with your scent…”

She blushed, but stood perfectly still, waiting. “Your cheeks are so soft and full, like ripe fruit, waiting to be nibbled…” he did as he was describing… “and your double chin, daring my tongue to trace your jaw, my lips to kiss its arc…”

She shuddered, and he laughed low and deep in his throat. “Does that feel good, bella? Do you like seeing what I see, knowing what I think? And then your round shoulders,” he continued, pushing the dress away to allow his lips and tongue to roam, “they lead to your collarbone, so important a bone, and even when it’s padded like yours, the place where it meets its mate is so sensitive…” He alternated kisses with little puffs of air, bringing up goose flesh all over her, heightening her every sensation.

“When I see this place, where the collarbones meet, all I can think of is to kiss it. But on you, it is also the place where your big, pillowy breasts begin their outward journey… Look. See here? Most breasts begin several inches further down. But this is one of the places where all of your pleasure shows so enticingly; your enormous breasts begin higher up and reach out as if they are begging me to suckle at their fullness.”

He took her hand, tracing from the beginning of the cushion under her collarbone, down and outward, arching outward in a round ball shape, resting on her bloated belly. “Does my belly always stick out this far? Do my breasts always rest on top of it like this?”

“In all the time I’ve known you, cara, your belly has always supported your breasts this way. It is magnificent; instead of simply drooping to the sides, sagging downwards, they rest like royalty in a carriage. When you eat as you did yesterday, then your belly dislodges the two princesses, swelling up between them, upwards and outwards, trying to find as much space as it can in its greedy journey.”

Tony nuzzled her neck quietly for a moment, her hands still under his on her breasts. Gently, he took them and had her lift her breasts, first one, then the other, slowly, back and forth, whispering “See how beautiful they are… soft, full, so much more than even two hands can hold… so lush… mmmmm…” She shivered, and he smiled. “But let’s continue.” She expected him to move downwards onto her belly, but instead he began to drag her fingers along the thick rolls of fat that extended from the sides of her breasts under her arms. “This is a secret part, but so enticing to me. Only true lovers of fat notice this roll; it drives me wild. When you came into the deli, I saw how it pushed your arms away from your sides, and I dreamt of fondling it, nibbling it, caressing it slowly…it is the real difference between a woman who has gained a few pounds and a truly gloriously fat woman like you.” She blushed, and looked away.

“You still hate the word ‘fat’, don’t you?” he asked, softly. She didn’t answer, couldn’t make eye contact. “You love the feeling of your soft, fat, growing body, and still the word bothers you? Look at me, cara.”

He turned her towards him, chucking her under the chin to make her meet his gaze. “You have always been beautiful to me, and you would be even if you were much, much smaller. But the fatter you get, the more I melt each time you walk into the deli. For people like you and me, fat isn’t a bad word. It’s not an insult. It’s a joy—not just the trace of years of decadent pleasures, but also the soft fleshy expression of abundance right now, rolling over on itself, caressing itself, making you into a mountain of delights not only for me, but for you. I’ve watched you when you don’t know I’m looking, and you have no idea that you’re fondling your belly or your hips in full public view. All of the flesh that excites us both is described in that one tiny word. FAT.”

“I’ll try to learn to hear it differently. I promise. It was just an insult so often…”

“Never mind, coccolissima, Let’s continue, no?”

“OK. But I’m terribly embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Here, turn around again,”—he faced her towards the mirrors—“and let me show you. Where were we? Ahhhhh, yes, the lovely side rolls… Give me your hand. Close your eyes, and let your hands drift slowly down your side, starting under your arms… Yes, that’s it… Tell me what you feel.”

“The skin is soft, and a little damp, and the rolls feel round and firm but soft… it’s hard to explain, and I’ve never tried to put it into words.”

“Keep your eyes closed. Let’s continue.” He put his hands over hers, and began to slip them gently and ever so slowly frontwards. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Feel how far forward your abundant belly reaches… still going… still going…our hands meet in the middle, so let’s explore the other arc, up under your breasts, and down to your underbelly, and up under to where it folds.”

She shuddered with the sensations, and moaned quietly. “Don’t hold back, tesoro, love your body as I do, appreciate the generous arcs, the copious, overflowing mounds and rolls and curves of pillowy fat…” He purred softly in her ear, making her shiver again, raising gooseflesh again… She turned a bit, running her hands up and down over her belly. “I’m always self-conscious about my belly—it’s not just huge, but it’s one big round ball, so it looks like I’m pregnant with twin baby elephants or something. I love the way it feels, hanging heavily even when I’m really hungry. But it must look strange indeed.” “No, no, cara, no! It’s glorious! I feel like it’s an invitation to play with you, beginning with this big swollen ball in the middle.” He proved his point by taking her belly in his hands, one on each side, and wobbling it back and forth, as she moaned.