big ass, bigger dreams

You eat dinner and your undershirt starts to ride up, displaying the stretchmark riddled fat belly that you've created. But you like the feeling of the cold air tickling your exposed and sensitive flesh. You don't even try to pull the shirt down. It's as if you want your belly seen.

You wake up in the morning, earlier than you need to, feeling ravenous. (But of course you're starving, the way you eat before bed, you're too full to breathe... your stomach is a suffering empty vessel the next morning). You gluttonously stuff yourself with everything you can. What else would that extra time before work be for? Coffee? Hell no.

Your appetite is impressive. But then, you try to dress for the office, grabbing the largest clothing you have, and you can't even button your shirt. You had just purchased these button down shirts, how do they no longer fit?

It looks like it'll be another day off for you... but will you spend it buying clothes that fit? Or will you push that to another day so that you can indulge your gluttony? For you, time off is an invitation to spend the day ordering take-out and treats.

You're going to lose your job soon... I don't think the "I can't find clothes that fit me" excuse is going to work with them too much longer.

Outgrowing clothing is one thing; but eventually, you'll waddle into the house at the end of the day, plop yourself on the sofa, and it WILL collapse beneath you. It's really only a matter of time until all the furniture fails on you and suddenly even the doorways themselves will become restrictive.

But, for me? You outgrowing your world is such a pleasure to watch. You always seem surprised as you become too fat or too heavy for one thing after another.

But I'm not. Not one bit of me feels shock or surprise. I see the way you eat. I see the way you avoid exercise (you won't even stand from the couch to get food if I'm there... you let me use my energy; after all, we can't have you expending calories).

You want to be immobile. Your beautiful deep voice has never literally stated your goals or desires on that front. It's that unspoken, elephant in the room. But your actions certainly shout out your need to become as fat as possible.

I can't keep my eyes off of it. But you know I love it. The way I stare at you... you know you're sexy. And the bigger and fatter and more jiggly you get... the more I can't take my eyes or hands off of you. They aren't stares or touches of digust or disappointment. In fact, my positive attention only makes you want to get fatter and outgrow everything in your life.

At this point? Go ahead big boy... outgrow your clothes and waddle naked around our house. Outgrow our furniture, force me to buy bariatric items. Outgrow our home... make me spend tens of thousands widening doorways, reinforcing flooring and the structure itself.

like yes, tell me about how your belly gets in the way of putting on shoes!

tell me about how your belly keeps on bumping into your desk!

tell me about how you're out of breath so fast now!

tell me about how hard it gets to get up from the couch/bed!

Today I tried on a newish 5XL shirt and my gut hangs out the bottom of it pretty much with every movement. I have only had this one 6 months. I also tried to slide on my favorite shorts from last summer and they simply didn’t fit. I had to pull and pull to get them over my fatpad and my ass, and I realized I wasn’t using my size extenders on them…WRONG. I already had the small (one size) extender on! So I tried the 2-3 size one and now it fits, but goodness does it creak.

This isn’t even coming from a fetish perspective. Fat people look good in everything.

And so you gained a little weight.

Then we got married. Everyone gains some weight after marriage. You're happy, you're comfortable, you're secure. It was no different for you. The difference was me. You thought, since you had me, you could let go, but it was actual me who had you. You weren't so much letting go as letting me take you. Coming home with cake on on a regular basis. Running out to get you ice cream in the middle of the night when you ran out. That one time I bought you a whole other burrito after the home cooked meal wasn't quite enough. And of course, ever-flowing praise and encouragement. My hands on you at all times. Orgasms after the second desert. You had finally given in, sunk into the hedonism I was providing you.

And the weight started pouring on.

You were curvy before. I always joked that the first thing I ever noticed about you was your fat ass (which was technically true, since the first glimpse I got of you was from behind while you were browsing the shelves at that bookstore). Well, once you settled into your life with me, that ass got fatter and those thighs swelled. The first 20 lbs accentuated your curves, but the last 30 has filled in your waist and turned that soft tummy into a swollen jiggly belly that's now beginning to hang over your soft fat pussy.

It hasn't gone unnoticed, and yet, it hasn't slowed either of us down. For your part, you can't ignore the fact that about half the clothes you owned before the wedding don't fit, and the other half dig in to the thick layer of soft fat that covers you. Even your flowing sun dresses that I love so much now hug your belly like maternity wear. There's a reckoning coming in the fall when the weather cools down and you're going to realize you don't have a single pair of pants that will button around your thick waist. And yet, you're less shy now than you've ever been when it comes to asking me to go out and buy you another slice of tres leches after dinner.

For my part, I get to take the credit -- or blame, as you like to call it. I just can't help it. You've got such a sweet tooth, and I, by my very nature, have to exploit it. In my defense, I haven't been shy about telling you exactly what I'm doing. How I love to spoil you. How I love the size to which your ass has expanded into and every little dimple therein. How I love the shape and jiggle of your soft belly, even if you are slow to warm up to the idea that a full belly could be an attractive trait. How I think your round face is the cutest thing I've ever seen and the way those chubby cheeks frame your smile is the definition of beauty. I told you from the very beginning that I was going to spoil you, and I wasn't going to complain when you got fat. Well, now you're spoiled and now you're fat and I am far from complaining. I'm obsessed. I can't keep my hands off you. I can't stop the praise and compliments from spilling out of my mouth whenever I'm around you. The sex is amazing and abundant and increasingly more so as your own abundance swells. I'm in awe whenever you're walking around the apartment naked. I'm in heaven when I get to feel the softness of your body pressing against mine. I worship you everyday in every way I know how. Bringing ample offerings to my goddess, while an important aspect of my practice, is just one facet.

I knew what she meant by “we could try”. It was we could try to see if I’ll fit. We could try to see if I could handle the waddle from the car to the restaurant. We could try as in i may just be too heavy for this sort of thing now. The weight gain from the last year seemed to put me over the edge. Last year even though I was over 400 lbs it was still no problem. But now it’s a we can try.

So the next day we tried and I’m glad we did. It was the first time I had been out in a while. Getting in and out of the car was more of a challenge than it was last time. When we got to the restaurant I was glad to see that they still had the same seating arrangement with booths that had moveable tables. My wife got in her side first then pulled the table towards her. Then I got in. I have such a big fat spread now. When I sat down my ass and hips spread me the length of the bench seating. Then my wife pushed the table my way a little and it pressed into my stomach, so that half my belly was on the table and my tits resting on top of my belly fat.

“You fit, baby,” my wife said excitedly. A moment later the server was at the table. It was the same girl that used to serve us when we were regulars. She recognized my wife immediately then looked at me and her eyes said, “oh my you’re a big boy” but the words that came out were “long time no see. Great to see you again.”

After she took our order and left my wife looked at me. “Did you see that?” She said. “‘See what?”

“She was shocked by how fat I’ve made you.”

“What? Maybe she was shocked but why do you say it’s because she knows you are responsible?”

“Because I look happy. She saw how happy I look and saw how fat you’ve gotten. I saw the look she gave me after she looked at you.”

My wife is usually right about these things. I rarely challenge her on stuff like this or anything at all really.

When the server came back to the table with bibs and gloves she offered to put the bib on me. While she was doing so I could almost feel her taking in all my width. I looked at my wife and she still had this big smile on her face. A moment later our food came. Several bags of spicy cajun seafood. I got three lbs of shrimp just for myself and several orders garlic bread to soak up the sauce. We ate while guzzling down pints of cold beer.

I felt huge sitting there eating shrimp after shrimp. The fat on my upper arms jiggled every time I reached for my pint of beer. At one point my wife pinched my upper arm fat and smiled. “You’re such a piggie ordering three pounds,” my wife said. “I wonder if our server thinks you’re a piggie.”

“Probably,” I said. “I just don’t know when we are coming back.”

“Maybe only a couple more times,” she said. “Why a couple?” I said.

“Baby you’re getting so big. You’re going to be confined to the house sooner than you think. “

Then I felt my wife’s foot tapping on my fatpad under the table. She had slipped it out of her shoe and she was digging it into my fat. “Does that turn my piggie boy on?”

“Yes,” I said. “Does it turn you on?”

“You know it does,” she said. “When we get home i want you naked on the bed. I want to try to fuck you. I want to see if I can still get to your cock. But if I can’t I’m going to cum by straddling your belly and grinding on you. I’m going to cum so hard cuz I’m going to think about how you only have two more visits here because you’re getting so big.”