Too Bad

Chapter 1: Large and Lovely

I remembered how she’d looked when we first started dating. How she’d been way too skinny for me… practically emaciated, even for a girl. I remember thinking that she was perfect for me in nearly every other way, a prime example of petite perfection that would have turned the heads of every straight, hotblooded man, likely even plenty of straight, hotblooded women too, if even one of her many drunken recollections of her college “experimentations” ended holding up as true. But, as far as my personal tastes went, she was… okay, she was lacking… a bit. She was just too skinny…

My girlfriend, when we had met at least, had had no curves to speak of. Her rail-thin physique was practically appalling to me, in spite of how pretty she was. She had beautiful almond-brown eyes and shiny, striking auburn hair, but her flat chest, super-slim waist and nonexistent ass were far from enticing for me. With such a perfect, pretty face and a beautiful smile, it had only taken one date before I’d been convinced that she was the girl for me.

But her curves… or, rather, lack thereof… I hate to admit it, but it was a hangup of mine in what I thought was an otherwise perfect relationship.

And I, not knowing what it would mean down the road at the time, made the mistake of telling her that.

~~

“You know, you can slow down, if you want,” I said in the present day, addressing the very, very differently proportioned girl sat across from me at the table of the all-you-can-eat restaurant we were currently occupying. “Babe. Fiona…” I said, using her god-given name out of the frustration that bore from her mostly ignoring me. “FIONA SHAW.” I practically shouted, trying to sound forceful without raising my voice, lest I attract the attention of the other patrons at the buffet.

My girlfriend could hardly be bothered to pay me any mind. Where once she’d have smiled at me coquettishly and enthusiastically, responding to me with eagerness and anticipation, the Fiona of today barely registered the fact that I was even seated across from her. Our level of communication had changed quite a bit over the years…

But, to be fair, my girlfriend had changed pretty drastically herself in other ways as well.

“Mmmph… Mmmm… what!?” she nearly spat, not looking up from the plate she had carefully positioned atop of her doming, burgeoning belly. My once waifish girlfriend had become so massively large that she was no longer capable of reaching a table in front of her without leaning forward with her belly in the way.

So she simply balanced the plate on top of her boobs. Those had grown incredibly substantially since her dedicated increase in size. But, to be fair, so had everything else…

Fiona’s upper arm flab was now significantly wider around enough in circumference than her waist used to be. She was the largest girl that I had ever seen in person, and it was even more shocking that I had seen her grow to such an extreme before my very eyes. Her weight gain had started off pleasingly enough, with the distribution of her weight lending itself to quite the alluring hourglass shape, her hips and butt getting increasingly curvier as her bust surged forward in its most earnest attempt to keep pace. But that had only lasted for the first few hundred pounds… somewhere in between the 450’s and the 550’s, Fiona had started to take on an increasingly more belly-heavy physique, her oft distended stomach making quick strides to catch up to the rest of her overly abundant curves.

And she hardly made much of an attempt at hiding it.

Fiona, for some ungodly reason, still tried to pull off the same types of outfits she’d worn some six or seven hundred pounds ago, albeit in much, much bigger sizes. Still, the black bike shorts and white tank top that she had squeezed herself into left not much to the imagination regarding my girlfriend’s frighteningly fat physique.

Fiona’s voluminous form was in the full limelight, the primary beneficiary of her mindless munching not even fully covered by her inadequate shirt. Of the two frankly jaw-droppingly enormous tires of flowing flab that made up her stomach rolls, she’d only managed to tuck the bottommost into her bike shorts; her upper roll of stomach fat was free and exposed, the bottom hem of her tank top nowhere near reaching far enough the deep crease resting in between her belly rolls.

A questionable fashion choice,for sure… but, to be fair, I’m pretty sure it was the last good tank top she had. Clothing was a nightmare to find in her size, and whenever she did manage to find an item she could wear online, it was my debit card that inevitably wound up eating the enormous charge. If Fiona wanted to put off clothes shopping for a while, I knew my wallet would thank her.

It’s not like I already wasn’t spending enough on food… I’d tried to argue at first against yet another trip to the buffet, but had finally relented when I’d realized that eating out at any restaurant where I had to pay per plate meant I might come up short on rent next month…

And at a time, I’ll admit, watching my girlfriend pig out on plate after plate would have been one of the biggest turn-ons that my Fat Admirer libido could have asked for. But that time had passed maybe a few hundred pounds ago.

No, rather, all of this made me that much more vocal in reiterating the point that I had been trying to assert earlier.

“I said you don’t have to eat so much!” This time I nearly barked, not caring nearly as much who had heard me in the subdued but spirited din of the daily evening rush.

I’d expected some sort of embarrassment or indignation, some kind of remorse over having her perturbed paramour call her out on her gluttony in such a direct manner. Instead, she merely scoffed, making a half-hearted attempt to shrug her supple shoulders before digging back in to the overloaded plate of pasta, her ninth so far, that she’d piled high in front of her along with multiple other dishes that had been ferried from the trolley to the table in her plump, puffy arms.

“You know you love it,” she didn’t even bother looking up from her half-empty plate as she responded, twirling another parmesan-coated calorie bomb around her overburdened fork before shoving the whole thing unceremoniously past the jiggling jowls of her multi-tiered maw.

It was there where she had me cornered.