Gobble Goals
by B.J. Morris

Cindy was cute. She was twenty-two and stood at about five foot four with strawberry-blonde, shoulder length hair. She wore black stretch pants and a formless black top; not exactly a fashion-plate but that wasn't what he found interesting about her. She was big. He estimated she weighed around three hundred pounds. She carried it in all the right places, too. Her thighs made her pants skin tight and her breasts strained at the weave of her top. He knew she had the kind of body that could grow into an exaggerated hourglass shape, the kind he liked best. When they met at that party at Roger's she had been sneaking looks at him all night. He had asked her out to dinner for the following night and she blushed a bit as she said yes. Before the end of their second date he could see that she was hooked on him. He decided to help her grow to be all that she could be.

They were relaxing over dessert and drinks at her place and he maneuvered the conversation to his favorite topic.

"You really like fat girls?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Yes. I like my women big."

She shook her head. "You don't think I'm too fat?" she asked, patting her stomach.

"No," he replied. "I don't. In fact I think you're too thin."

"Thin!" She had to think about that for a moment. "No one's ever accused me of that."

"So, you've always been fat?"

"I weighed over one eighty when I started high school. I tried every kind of diet but I never could stay on them for very long. I'd starve myself into losing fifteen or twenty pounds, go absolutely crazy with cravings, and gain thirty pounds in half the time. I just love to eat. So much so that everybody gave up on my ever losing weight. When I went away to college I decided I was destined to be fat so I ate as much as I wanted, as often as I wanted. When I graduated four months ago I weighed 324. That's not too much, is it?" she asked, nervously.

"Not at all. Like I told you, I think you're too skinny for me...I couldn't feel attracted to you until you put on at least another seventy-five to a hundred pounds."

"What? Every other man I've ever met has been after me to lose weight and you want me to gain a hundred pounds?"

"I said at least a hundred pounds. That would put you at about four hundred pounds and your figure would be just rounding out. Of course," he said swirling the brandy in his glass, "if you really want to know I'd like to see you weigh at least twice what you do now."

"Six hundred pounds!" She was incredulous. She stared into his eyes searching for something. "I don't know if I should believe you..."

He pulled out a photo from his wallet. "Here's a picture of the woman I used to date." Her eyes grew round. The redhead in the picture was enormous, her body almost covering the couch she sat on. "That's Carla when she weighed 550 pounds; she weighed 658 at her highest. She looked fantastic then! But when we split up she was a mere shadow of herself at 389."

"She lost all that weight?"

"Yeah. She could never believe that I really liked her fat. She went on a diet she thought would make me happy and all it did was kill our relationship. I tried to tell her like I'm telling you that I like my women with some meat on their bones; but she couldn't understand. She insisted on riding her cycling machine and eating rabbit food. I watched forlornly as those luscious pounds just melted away. When she slipped below four hundred I broke it off. I couldn't feel attracted to her anymore. The last I heard she was down to two hundred and still dieting."

Cindy stared at him, her mind racing a mile-a-minute. She looked down at the picture, then down at her too tight jeans. "You really think I'm too thin, huh?" she said more to herself than to him.

When she looked at him again, a decision was there in her face. She smiled devilishly and picked up the cream pie in front of her. Cindy started to eat, taking huge bites that quickly made the pie disappear. Then she sucked the cream off her fingers seductively.

"Well, if big is what you want, big is what you'll get. I've just started a new diet...one I know I can stay on because God knows, I'm going to enjoy every minute of it!"

*

In the next few weeks, Cindy turned into an eating machine, devouring everything she could lay her hands on. She ate loaves of bread and half dozen egg omelets for breakfast, four foot sandwiches for lunch, and whole roasts and turkeys for dinner. Each meal was accompanied by desserts of pies, cakes, cookies, pastries, ice cream, puddings, and mousses. In between meal snacks were pizzas, candies, cheeses, and more cakes, pies and pastries. Everything she ate was downed with malteds that she drank straight from the pitcher. He was astonished at how much she ate each day. Within weeks her clothes were skin tight so he went to the big girls shop and bought her clothes two sizes larger. Cindy took this as a sign of his approval so she strove to eat even more.

After three months she called him over to her apartment. When he arrived, the door was open. He walked in and found the living room littered with empty food cartons and containers, snack chip bags and bakery boxes. He called out to her.

"I'll be out in a minute. Have a seat."

He cleared off a spot on the sofa. After a few moments, Cindy came in wheeling a large scale. Her clothes were once more too tight: her stomach pushed out of the sweater and spilled well over the open waistband. Thighs rippled and chins quivered as she walked in her high heels. When the scale was in the middle of the room, she turned to him with a smile.

"When we met you said you couldn't find me attractive until I gained a hundred pounds, right?" He nodded. She climbed on the scale.

The readout was digital. The numbers spun by at a maddening pace, finally slowing and registering 432. She stepped off the scale and struck a sexy pose. As he predicted her figure had kept its hourglass shape, breasts and hips trying to outpace each other.

"Well, what do you think? Is the diet working?"

He simply stood up and gave her a bear hug. His right hand could just barely grip his left behind her. Cindy giggled. "I thought so. Well, don't worry. I intend to continue the diet until I weigh more than Carla before I'm done." There was a rumbling noise. "Looks like my stomach says its time to start that process right now..."

She waddled into the dining room and lowered herself into the chair at the table's head. The table was groaning with food. "Come on, I'm starved. Feed me till I burst!"

Cindy handed him a serving fork and spoon. He took the seat next to her as she tucked a linen napkin around her neck. He scooped up some mashed potatoes and gravy and placed them in Cindy's waiting mouth. "Mmmm! Good. Keep it coming."

Next it was creamed corn, followed by thick slices of roast beef and turkey. Stuffing, asparagus in hollandaise, creamed onions, string beans, meatloaf, and southern-fried chicken each took their turn. Cindy chewed, sighed, smacked her lips and continued to devour whatever he put in her mouth. She paused every so often to lift a pitcher of chocolate malted to her lips, chugging down a third of the pitcher each time. More and more food was consumed. He watched in astonishment as she loosened the zipper on her pants and motioned for the next forkful. Three times he refilled the malted's pitcher from the huge container in the refrigerator. Serving bowls and platters were emptying at an incredible rate. Finally, she heaved a huge sigh of contentment and motioned for him to stop.

"Aaaaah! That was good." She burped loudly. "Excuse me...looks like I've made room for dessert. Poor baby! You haven't had a thing to eat! And my pants have gotten much too tight. Why don't you grab a bite while I change into something more comfortable and then we'll have dessert, okay?" With that, Cindy rose ponderously from the table and waddled off, rubbing her hugely distended stomach.

He looked down at the table. A few scraps of turkey, a slice of meatloaf, and some scattered vegetables remained of the huge repast. He laid down the serving fork and spoon he had been using and realized that he had the hard-on of a lifetime! If she eats like this all the time its no wonder she put on over a hundred pounds so quickly! And if she keeps eating like this, there's no telling how big she'll get! His plan to fatten her up was working better than he had ever dreamed.

"Honey?" He heard Cindy call him from the living room. "I've set up dessert in here so we can watch TV while we eat."

As he stood up, he noticed his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and entered the living room.

Cindy sat with a whipped cream cake clutched in her hands. She spread whipped cream all over her face with each mouthful, but her eyes remained glued to the TV. She wore a pair of mint green sweatpants and a forest green ribbed sweater, both of which strained to contain her form. Her body covered half the spacious sofa with her dainty feet propped up on the cocktail table before it. On the table was a bowl of chocolate mousse and a gallon container of ice cream. He couldn't believe that she could still be eating but he thought it was a beautiful sight. He joined her.

"I'm going to need to go shopping for bigger clothes," she said absently between bites. "Nothing fits me anymore...again. I'm going to have to get things not just two but several sizes larger because I outgrow the clothes in no time."

As she finished the cake she reached for the mousse, using a serving spoon to bring it to her plump lips. "The movie is 'Babycakes'...you know, that movie with Rickie Lake. I used to think she was so fat, but now," she looked at him coyly, "I can see she's such a skinny little thing."

*

It was the anniversary of their first date and he was hurrying home to his Cindy. She had decided to quit her job six months ago and move in with him. They were spending all their time together anyway. And with her home all day she had accelerated the diet to a single meal a day; a meal that lasted all day.

He made only two very essential stops on the way home: the bakery and the Chinese restaurant. Each place had the orders he had called in that morning waiting for him. After all, he and Cindy were two of their biggest customers. He chuckled at the pun as the boy helped him pack the loads into his Blazer.

He zipped into the driveway and entered through the kitchen. "Cindy! I'm home, honey."

"Need help with anything?" she called from the living room.

"No thanks." He dashed out to the Blazer and brought in the white bakery boxes, two bundles stacked four high and tied with string. " Do you need anything?"

"Well, now that you mention it...bring in a malted when you come in?"

He chuckled as he brought in the last take-out bags. He quickly put things away and then pulled out the container of Super Wate-On powder. As he mixed the powder, milk, and ice cream he thought about when Cindy had first showed him this secret of hers for mammoth weight gain. He had responded by buying her the commercial-sized blender he now used to mix her the malted. The product was designed for weight lifters who wanted to bulk up but worked wonders for the weight gainer, too. Eliminate that nasty exercise step and the formula turned out beautiful fat instead of muscle. He filled Cindy's gallon-sized mug, stored the rest in the refrigerator, and headed for the living room.

Cindy sat in a corner of their modular sofa. Her strawberry-blonde hair had grown half-way down her back but it wasn't the only part of her that had grown. Her cheeks were puffed out, flowing out to meet up with her triple chins and surround plump lips. Rounded shoulders met up with football-

sized upper arms and dimpled elbows. They framed mountainous

breasts that jutted out from the over-sized sweater she wore. Cindy liked sweaters and he loved sweaters on her. A large round stomach met her swelled belly. Together they covered most of her lap, hiding her thick meaty thighs. Acid-washed jeans strained to contain her huge hips and the boulder butt on which she rested. Overall her body covered more than four of the modular pieces.

At the sight of her lover, Cindy struggled to her feet and quickly waddled over to him. Somehow she could still balance herself on the spiked-heels he loved her to wear. So excited was she that she nearly knocked him over with her embrace. It wasn't the malted he carried that stopped him from embracing her in turn; he'd given that up long ago when he could no longer reach halfway around.

"Ooooh, I love you!" she squealed.

"Here's your malted, honey."

She released him and took the mug eagerly. Lifting it to her lips with a gleam in her eye, she chugged it back. He stood in amazement as she drained it in a single draught. He imagined all those calories racing to her breasts and hips. His long ago prediction continued to prove true: her body was still hourglass shaped though exaggerated to a perfect 98-78-98.

"For our anniversary," he said after she had wiped away the chocolate mustache, "I've brought home a Chinese feast....thirty-two courses."

"Is that all?" she pouted, teasingly.

"Nooo. I brought home several desserts from our favorite bakery."

"Thank you," she purred.

"Well, that's what I got you. You said you had a surprise for me."

"Yes, I do. Please sit down and close your eyes." As he did, he heard her move out of the room and then return after a few moments.

"Okay. You can open your eyes now."

She stood before him in an incredibly tiny blue satin dental floss bikini. Nearly every enormous inch of her sexy body was displayed before him. Where did she...? Then he realized that since she outgrew commercial sizes she had been having her clothes custom made. Obviously, her seamstress could make anything for her.

So taken in by this sight was he that he didn't notice the new scale until Cindy stepped up on it. He wondered about the new scale until he saw the numbers racing by. The old scale only went as high as 550 and Cindy had passed that mark a month or more ago. So that was the surprise! A new scale for her to use and him to enjoy. He was about to go to her when he saw the numbers pass 600. Six hundred! More! Finally they stopped on 661.

"Like my surprise, honey? I promised I was going to double my weight and I promised I was going to pass Carla's top weight. I worked hard to make it happen on our anniversary." She giggled and her whole body jiggled. "Without a scale I had to guess...I guess I guessed too far, huh?"

"No, no...I love your new size."

"You don't think I'm too fat, do you?"

He thought of Carla and that fiasco. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Good." She stepped off the scale and slowly moved over to him. She stopped just inches from him. Even at five foot four she seemed to tower over him. "Because I'm not finished yet. I've heard that the female world record is over eight hundred pounds. And I should beat that before our next anniversary...."

And with that, she poured herself all over him.

*

It was the night of their second anniversary and he had fought with the company to finally let him come home. He had been away for training at the home office for over three months now. He was scheduled to stay until next week but he had worked weekends to finish early. He got off the highway at his exit.

Cindy had taken her new goal very seriously and had been working to pass the world record in time. When he had left she was up to a beautiful 804....still over a hundred pounds short of the record 911. He was sure she was going to make it, eating the way she was. Each night he had jerked off dreaming about his growing wife. When he had called to tell her he would be home for their anniversary, he tried to hint around the question. She wouldn't give him a definite answer; in fact, she sounded depressed. He couldn't believe that she wasn't already over the record!

He turned into his driveway. There was a strange car parked there. He went in through the kitchen.

"Cindy? Cindy, I'm home!" he called, wondering what he would find. What was that strange car doing in the driveway?

"Honey, come quick! We're in the living room."

We?

He entered the living room and couldn't believe his eyes. There were three strangers in his house. One was taking notes and asking questions. The second was busily snapping off pictures. The flashes served to annoy him further. And the third was holding a measuring tape and also making notes. Why, of course! They must be the people who....Cindy had beaten the world record after all!

And just then he looked over at Cindy.

She stood in the spike-heeled shoes he loved on her. She wore a violet, satiny one-piece outfit gathered at the waist and ankles that he had never seen before. But when he looked more closely, his eyes bulged wide and his mouth fell open. She was huge! From the side he could see that her hair was touching the top of her double-beach ball ass. Her thighs were bigger than barrels and her stomach rolled out hugely beneath her breasts. Her breasts! They were larger than the globes of her ass. She turned to face him and a wide grin spread across her face. Her button nose and green eyes were swallowed up by her bulging cheeks and quadruple chins. She still had her hourglass figure but it looked like most of the sand was in the top half. Cavernous cleavage displayed above the enormous roll of her stomach.

"Hi," she said. That one word spoke volumes of passion.

The three men, surmising the situation, quickly let themselves out; but not before congratulating them both.

He hugged her, or tried to. His arms barely reached halfway around. He squeezed the parts that he could, exploring her enormous body, his manhood growing hard. He kissed her warm full lips, tongues darting and promising more. After a minute, he controlled himself enough to ask a question.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What? And spoil the fun?"

"But you sounded so depressed when I called...?"

"I was! I knew those men were coming and my outfit hadn't arrived yet! Didn't you want me to look good?"

"Look good!"

She giggled. "Come here, I want to show you the record." She dragged him to the couch and sat down. He noticed that she took up more than six modular pieces. She handed him a letter. It was from the beer company that tracked the records. He read through their congratulations and nearly passed out when he saw the portion that had been hand-

written: her measurements and her weight.

His darling Cindy's measurements were now 158-115-144 and she weighed nine hundred ninety eight pounds. 998!

He looked at her. "I had to add a little to keep ahead of the competition, you know," she stated simply.

"The competition!"

"That's right. I don't want anyone breaking this record until I do next year!"