So Very She couldn't believe her luck when she walked into the convenience store. Wedged firmly behind the counter was a young man, probably in his mid twenties. From what she could see he was very large, sides spilling over the arms of his chair, belly bulging up against the cash register and snuggled up against the counter. As she walked farther into the store she could see that the rounded gut she had initially spotted above the counter wasn't all that this young man had to offer: his stomach dropped swollen between his legs to about where his knees would be if he were standing.
By Stuffa
She swallowed convulsively; this was not the sort of vision that greeted her every day. Determined to prolong her time in the presence of such greatness she slowly browsed the shelves, looking covertly into the curved security mirror that kept watch over the store. From there she had a good view of the young man behind the counter. She smiled as he shifted in his chair and then had to pull down his overstretched shirt. She knew nothing was going to make that shirt fit again.
Unfortunately, the shop was a small one and her browsing could not be stretched for much longer. Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the checkout, eyes hungrily running over the bulges and ripples of the mountainous young man in front of her. She set the basket down in front of him.
"Paper or plastic?" His voice was muffled by the fat of his cheeks. She stared, bewitched by the smear of chocolate on his second chin. "Lady, paper or plastic?" Startled out of her reverie she instinctively asked for paper. He rolled his eyes and then started to struggle up from the chair, easing his stomach free of the confines of the counter and then pushing himself upright as it bounced against his thighs. She had been correct, that beautifully rounded belly did reach almost to his knees. As he waddled towards the pile of paper bags she watched mesmerized as his shirt rode up the rolls of flab at his sides and his too-tight sweatpants were pulled lower by his bulging stomach. A six-inch gap of soft flesh was now revealed between the two garments, tantilising her with its closeness.
Bending over to get the bags his stomach started to sag forward and push the front of his sweatpants out of its way. Frustrated, he pulled the pants up again in the front forcefully, causing them to rip resoundingly along the curve of his belly. He cursed. She was in heaven.
As he stood again, his mounded stomach bulged at the point where his seams had split, showing itself soft and pink against the dark fabric. "I can never get on the bus dressed this way. Now what the heck am I going to do?" he groaned. This was her chance.
"I live around the corner and have a sewing machine. I could mend them for you when you get off of your shift. I kinda feel responsible, if I had just asked for plastic..." Her voice trailed off, hoarse. She was stammering, but the thought of having him in her apartment, partially naked, his bulging belly visible... Too good to pass up, too good to miss. He looked down again at what he could see of the rip, his stomach pressing through. He pulled at his shirt again, sighing at the futility in trying to stretch it to cover his belly - more likely it would rip off too. "Okay, I'm off in about five minutes. We'll ring you up and get out of here. Thanks very much."
They rang up the rest of her purchases and he asked her if she'd wait next to her car in the parking lot. With the alarm being set, he needed everyone else out of the store. Still dazed at her fortune she agreed.
Standing in the parking lot seemed an eternity. Slowly the lights went out in the back of the store, and then the front. She could see the outline of the clerk's body against the faint lights of the coolers: impossibly round, incredibly large. The lighter color of his belly shone in the faint lights. She tried to estimate his weight, comparing him to her previous boyfriend. He had weighed about five hundred, five fifty, but this man was larger by a good margin. Her ex's belly had only drooped to mid-thigh, and was not as rounded or protruding.
The door swung open, and the clerk turned sideways to step through it. She saw that he was carrying a few bags of groceries himself, and she hoped that whatever it was it was fattening, too keep that beautiful body soft and plump.
She started towards the trunk. "Okay, this is my car. Do you want to put those bags in the back?" He nodded his head, cheeks and chins wobbling. "Sure, but there's some ice cream in here - could I put it in your freezer while you sew me up? I really appreciate this, going out of your way for a stranger."
She swung his door open, "Oh no, as I said, I feel responsible. If I hadn't asked for paper..." "They would have split sooner or later anyway," he interrupted. "When you're this fat, you get used to clothing not holding up for long. Especially after I stopped dieting a few years ago, it's been tough to find things that fit."
"Stopped dieting," she breathed to herself. "Thank God." She jumped into the car seat in time to watch him lower himself in carefully, slowly wedging broad buttocks into her bucket seats. Then he grasped his belly with one arm and tried to ease it into the car. After some twisting and turning he managed, but his stomach was crammed up against the glove compartment, and his sides spilled onto her gear stick.
Worse, he couldn't seem to get the door closed. He looked at her, embarrassed, "Do you, I mean, the door..." She nodded and jumped back out. Walking around the back of the car, she could see how much lower the little sports coupe was on his side, and felt another thrill. Her ex had never fit so badly into her car!
Reaching his side, she could see that she would have to help him get into the car a little farther, something she was relishing. She met his eyes sheepishly. "Um, may I?" she said, and indicated where his lovehandles were bulging out sideways. He murmured asset, and she rolled down the car window and then leaned in from outside to place her hands on bulging side. Then she slowly leaned on the door while pushing his flab further into the car. With a last grunt, the car door was shut and looked to stay that way for at least the short ride to her place.
Getting back into the car, she saw that his body had further covered her gearstick, and she was going to have to reach under one of his rolls to shift. As she started the car her hand went automatically for the gearstick and met warm flesh. She pulled it back, stunned, and then apologised and started worming her hand under his flesh, this time watching what she was doing. This might be one of the most dangerous rides of her life, but it would also be one of the most enjoyable.
"Cars aren't really made for people my size. That's why I take the bus," he said. "I guess a pretty lady like you probably hasn't ever seen anything as fat as me before. I should really diet, I guess."
"Don't," she blurted. He stared at her. "Don't diet. You're fine as you are. You should be happy with who you are, I mean." She didn't want to come on too strong, tell him what an effect having his warm soft body next to her in the car was having. She risked looking at him again and saw that his mouth was hanging open.
He shut his mouth, and then took a breath as if to speak. A long pause, and then another breath, and this time he did. "But I'm huge, of course I should diet. It's not like I could ever find a pretty girl like you who wanted to be with a guy this fat. I just don't like diets, that's all."
She had to tell him, but gently, gently - he would be shocked by someone wanting him fat, even fatter. She couldn't scare him now. "Well, what if someone did like you how you are? What would you think of that? What if someone like me did think you were cute?"
He laughed. "Nah, never happen. I mean, look at this gut." He grasped his belly with both hands, fingers digging into the flab, kneading it. "I could never get someone like you into bed or as a girlfriend. I'd bet you a hundred bucks."
"You're on." She felt her face turn red, but she had to try it.
"Sorry? Did you just accept my bet? You're joking me," he stammered. "Are you saying that you'd go out with me or go to bed with me?"
"You pick," she said, attempting to sound lighthearted. "After all, we've only just met, and I'm taking you back to my place. Speaking of my place, we're here."
She threw open her car door and heard his open as well. Giving him a moment, she grabbed her groceries and his out of the trunk. Sneaking a peak, she could see that he wasn't joking about the ice cream - there were four half gallon cartons, two of them very soft. She shut the trunk and walked around to his side of the car. He had managed to get his feet out, and was trying to stand. This gave her a moment to stare again at his belly without him noticing, seeing that the tear had gone much further. Luckily for her, these sweatpants were going to take some work to fix.
He finished heaving his massive form out of the car and stood, belly swaying. She pointed to the double doors she had had installed for her ex, wide enough for the largest man. "Over there, that one is mine." He nodded and started his ponderous waddle towards the doors, mesmerizing her with the ripples she could see playing up and down his sides. She unlocked the door and turned on the living room lights.
"C'mon in, make yourself at home." She waved at the sofa, large and low slung, reinforced before her ex had dumped her. "Your ice cream, it's really soft. You shouldn't refreeze it when it melts, you know." Worth a gamble, worth a try... "I could serve you the really soft bits now so they don't go bad, but only if you let me have some too!"
She saw him looking at the sofa as he answered. "Sure, I'd love to - I haven't had anything in hours. Are you sure I won't, um, hurt your sofa?"
She knew he was lying about not having eaten earlier, after all, didn't he still have chocolate on his chins - but she was happy to scoop him a huge portion of the ice cream. "No, don't worry about that sofa. It was stress-tested by my ex. You'll be fine." She emerged from the kitchen with a large bowl. "I'm sorry, but a lot of it was melted. See what you can do. And speaking of seeing what you can do, I need to work on those pants of yours. I've got something you might be able to wear if you want to change in the bathroom?"
She trotted off to the cupboard where a few of her ex's things still were, pulling a huge pair of shorts out of the pile of clothing. While they were enormous, had been loose on her previous boyfriend, she had a feeling that they would be put to the test on this young man's enormous frame. Brandishing the shorts she walked back into the living room. "Here, I'll show you where the bathroom is. These were my ex's shorts - they might fit."
She showed him the bathroom and shut the door behind him, then sprinted back into the kitchen. "I know it's underhanded of me," she thought, "but his ice cream is melting, and I'm sure I could sneak a bit more into the bowl while he's changing. God, what a turn-on." More ice cream was added to his already heaping bowl. "So fat, so very fat," she murmured to herself. "So very fat..."
The bathroom door opened, and he emerged. Heaving his body into the living room, she was stunned to see how tightly the shorts fit him. Stretched almost to transparency over his rounded belly, they pulled at the seams. She swallowed. "So very fat..." she breathed to herself again.
"They're a bit tight, but thank you," he said, indicating the shorts. "Now that I've seen the size of his shorts, I feel a bit safer sitting on your sofa, if you say that your ex 'stress-tested' it." Slowly he lowered himself to the low couch and then reached for his bowl of ice cream, resting it on the mound of his stomach. "I left my pants folded up on the table outside of the bathroom," he said. She shook her head - she had almost forgotten why he was here.
She plunked herself down in the chair next to his sofa, grinning. "Oh, you're just trying to make sure you don't have to share your ice cream. I know your sort. Hand that spoon over." He grinned and did so, saying, "Well, as you can see, I don't often share my food." He patted his stomach possessively, ripples running over it.
They smiled at each other, and she took a small spoonful of the ice cream. She noticed that his eyes followed the spoon as she ate it, and remarked, "Oh, look at those puppy-dog eyes, as if I had taken away your favorite toy. Here you go." She dug the spoon into the bowl of ice cream, and leaned forward, waving it in front of him. "Open wide for the airplane!" He laughed and opened his mouth, allowing her to fill it with the mouthful of ice cream. "Now, be a good boy and finish that up, or you won't get your dessert."
He chucked, "Oh, I don't skip dessert, don't you worry. I'll be done with this in a sec. Could I get something to drink though? I'm a bit thirsty."
She stood up. "Oh, I've been a bad hostess. What would you like? I've got beer, wine, water, cola, milk... That's about it." "Could I have a beer please?" he asked. "It's been one of those days." She grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the cap off, poured it into a glass. "No problem," she said, serving it. "My pleasure."
She sat again, and watched him take the first sip with obvious pleasure. He patted his stomach and set the now empty ice cream bowl down. She glanced at it, stunned. "You've finished already!" she exclaimed.
"Oh yes, fat guys like me have no trouble with a bit of ice cream like that." He rubbed his stomach again, and then straightened up. "Now, about this bet. You know I won't hold you to it."
She panicked. "Don't weasel on a bet. It's bad sportsmanship, you know. A bet is a bet. Unless you're not, um, interested in me."
He snorted. "It'd be more likely you wouldn't be interested in me, seeing as I'm such a pig. You're gorgeous, and I'm fat, totally fat. What would you want with someone like me, you could have anyone."
She bit the bullet. "What if I don't want to date just anyone? What if you're more my type?"
"Your type? Your type? I'm sorry, are you saying that grossly obese guys are your type?" He gaped at her, incredulous.
"Well, look at the shorts you're wearing. Isn't that a bit of a tip-off?" She gestured at the clothing stretched across his stomach. "Those were my ex's, you know."
"But, he's your ex. Didn't you dump him for gaining weight?" He was still struggling with the concept that she might want him.
"No," she sighed. "He dumped me. He wasn't ever very comfortable with the fact that I thought he was the sexiest guy I ever knew, because he was fat." There, that laid it on the line. "He was gorgeous, almost as sexy as you, but he didn't believe me."
There was a long pause while he took this in. "So, you think I'm sexy? You like big guys?" He still seemed incredulous, but some of the color had come back to his cheeks.
"Oh yes," she breathed. "I adore big guys - the bigger the better. And you are gorgeous. You've got a beautiful body. I'd love to date you."
He looked at her. "You're not going to tell me in a week to lose weight, are you? Because I'm not going to."
She shook her head. "Oh no, I wouldn't. If anything, you're still a bit, skinny. Bony almost."
"You want me to gain weight? Skinny? No one has ever said that before."
"Oh no, you don't have to gain weight," she protested. "It's just that if you did, you'd be even sexier. As I said, the bigger the better."
He smiled at her. "If you really mean that... You're a dream come true, you know? I've been packing on the pounds for years, never thought anyone would encourage me to gain more. Okay, you're on."
"On?" She smiled at him.
He grinned harder, eyes twinkling in fat cheeks. "Oh yes. That bet is back on. Not only am I having you in bed tonight, but I'm having the rest of that ice cream right now. Bigger is definitely going to be better."
Three months later:
She rolled over in bed and found herself pressed up against his belly, bulging even further now than it did the night they met. He had kept her to that bet, and she had kept her promise not to ask him to diet. As a (very happy) consequence, he was even fatter than before, his belly rising off the bed, mounded and huge. His face had softened further, and his chins bulged to his chest. Fat arms lay against his body, pudgy fingers that brought her such pleasure gently massaging the fat of his sides. His legs were rounder as well, but it was always his belly that captivated her. It was fat, so very fat, almost to his knees, and with her help it would only continue to bulge and grow.