Fat and Happy

FAT AND HAPPY

Author's note: Thanks to cvmawirenut for editing. This is a flash story I hope you enjoy.

Yes, I, Mark, Marcus Lee Griffin, love fat women. Screw the politically correct 'big-boned,' Rubenesque,' or even 'pleasantly plump.' I know exactly where my romantic leanings come from -- my mother, and, no you pervert, I never fucked my mother. I did, however, love her tremendously, rest her soul. My mother was and still is the most wonderful person I have ever met.

Mother was tall, maybe 5' 11" tall and weighed close to 300 pounds. Her face was beautiful, and her breasts and rear were huge. Sort of a super-inflated Barbie without a wasp waist. My Dad was handsome and tall but was of normal weight for his height due in large part to his work in construction and an aversion to drinking alcohol of any kind. I never found out why he didn't drink, but I was glad that preference wasn't genetically passed on to me.

One day Dad announced that he had found a skinnier girl to love and left my Mom with me and my two sisters. I never saw my mother grieve at his leaving. She immediately reorganized chores in the home based on one less person living there. I got most of dad's chores, but my sisters had to take on some of mine. It was very tough financially although my father paid child support, usually. Mom took a lunch waitressing job to augment her third shift factory job. She was a seamstress at a sewing factory that made jeans.

Single mom, two jobs, two teenagers and one preteen = a formula for kids to go wild. Didn't happen. Our mother was home for breakfast and getting us off to school and was home when school was out. Homework came first and then we ate while she got ready to work. We wondered when she ever slept. Weekends were for the bigger chores, family fun time, and Mom's nap time. We wore out several board games over the years. TV watching was a luxury and only consisted of four non-cable channels: ABC. NBC, CBS and PBS.

One myth about fat people is that they are usually 'jolly.' The phrase 'fat and happy' also comes to mind. In my mother's case, however, it was true. How she kept a positive attitude with all that was on her plate is beyond me. I can still remember her laugh. If she ever started laughing, that would start or extend the laughing of those around her. Soon, we would be laughing like her mirth was instantly contagious. I'm ashamed to admit that I enjoyed seeing the rolls of fat jiggling up and down like a bowl of gelatin. That sight often kept my laughter going.

At least, all of the children were adults when she died from complications of her diabetes. She was proud of all of us and we all felt a profound loss in our lives. My sisters took opposite approaches to being overweight themselves. My oldest sister did not worry about it nor did it seem to bother her husband who was big himself. My youngest sister went the severe diet route. She even had to have therapy when she was diagnosed with anorexia. Her weight got down so low she has suffered long-term ill effects. She gained some weight after the therapy but, in my opinion, still looks too much like a picture of the survivors of concentration camps.

Football and weightlifting had me molding my large body into something useful rather than ponderous. I wound up at six foot six, 275-pound defensive end and have stayed close to that weight ever since. I played football in college at Purdue, but I was more interested in the computer engineering degree. I was drafted in the latter rounds of the NFL draft, but chose to go to work.

Throughout high school and college, I almost exclusively dated large women. A number of slender girls approached me, but I didn't feel any attraction. Several of the fat girls were eager to bed me. I'm afraid they thought they would not get many dates and I was their best hope to have sex. In some cases, it was probably true. I have several one date -- one fuck stories I could tell. But I won't.

In college, I hung out with a group that included several large coeds, two of whom I dated off and on. There was one other overweight but pretty girl, Izzy (short for Isabella), who was always telling either fat jokes on herself or fat people in general. She seemed to think anything she said was okay if someone laughed. I was not impressed and, apparently, she noticed.

We were celebrating a Purdue football win one night. A lot of booze was ingested, and Izzy had more than her share. Towards the end of our celebration, an obviously tipsy Izzy came over to me when I was standing by myself. "Mark, how come you've never asked me on a date? You date the other fat girls. We need to go out. I guarantee you I will rock your world in bed."

I had had enough to drink that I didn't mind being brutally honest. "The reason I haven't asked you on a date is a matter of respect. I can't respect a woman who doesn't respect herself. Your self-deprecating comments about your weight turns me off. You are a beautiful, intelligent FAT woman. You should embrace it. You should not be ashamed of your size. If you start treating yourself better, I might consider asking you for a date. But if you just want to fuck, that's another matter entirely. We can go to bed right now. I don't have to have respect for a beautiful woman in order to fuck her."

I must have struck a chord. Izzy looked pissed. "I wouldn't fuck you with . . . with, oh, I don't' know. I just wouldn't fuck you ever." With that she threw the rest of her drink into my face.

I licked some of the drink off my face and remarked, "Try ginger ale as a mixer next time instead of a regular soda." Izzy stomped off.

In the next few weeks, Izzy was unusually quiet while in our group. I think I saw several times where she was about to say something but seemed to restrain herself. Her change led me to resist deliberate poking her for her typical snide comment. I wondered how long this change in her social interactions would last. I kept watching for her to change back.

As the group was breaking up one day, Izzy came over to me and asked if I was busy. My mind raised a red flag, and I was about to come up with some bogus appointment excuse. Instead, I was honest. "I don't have special plans. What do you have in mind?"

"Could we go get some coffee? I would like to talk to you about something."

She seemed sincere and scared at the same time. I stopped myself from saying something sarcastic. "Grounds and Stuff okay?"

We sat down each with a coffee in our hands. Izzy seemed reluctant to speak. I threatened to leave. She put her hand on mine and said, "This is hard for me, Mark. Please give me chance. I need to apologize to you which is something I am not used to doing.

"Mark, you were right about me. I thought I had to make a joke about being fat so people couldn't see how hurt I was with what I saw in the mirror. I see what type of women men are attracted to: small waists, big boobs and ass. I couldn't believe that a handsome man like you actually were attracted to large women. You have no idea how jealous I was whenever you went out with Angela or Shirley. I wanted to be them so badly.

"Your words cut me deeply, but I needed the pain to help me take an objective look at how I viewed my appearance and my interactions with others. You were right. I needed an attitude reboot. I hope you have seen a difference in me lately and have liked it. I still have a lot of improving to do, but I need help. Would you be willing to help me?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Talking to me honestly like this and, hopefully, on dates."

"No 'rock my world' sex?"

She chuckled, "That will be up to you. My old self and my new self would love to stain the sheets with you."

"Do you know how to get cum out of sheets?"

"I think so. Just regular washing should do."

"Want to go find out?"

"Now?"

"Do you have another time in mind?"

"Yeah, I want to find out about an hour ago."

*****

Izzy and I went to my apartment and acquainted our bodies to each other. The sex was beyond good. I was especially enjoying the taste of her pussy before she begged me to fuck her. Izzy was happy to see that the largeness of my body extended to my private parts. I was evidently larger than any other man she had been with although she had mentioned there had only been a couple as a base of comparison. There were several comments she made about never having been so filled up before. She wound up spending the night and complained about having difficulty walking the next morning.

We dated regularly and then exclusively. When we both graduated, we were married. I had a great job where I had interned. Izzy got a job as a RN at the local hospital. We committed ourselves to buy the house for our lifetime. It was large because it was based on our having several kids. Our mortgage payments were high, but both our incomes were high. Most of Izzy's take-home pay was used for saving money to put towards starting a family.

Although her irregular shifts created some problems in running our household, -we eventually got into a routine. At the time I thought that was good because to me, routine meant stability, comfort, and smooth sailing domestically. I found out it might also create a desire to break out of a perceived rut. It seems that Izzy perceived she was in a rut.

Izzy worked with mostly women at the hospital, some married and some single. She found out that both the single women and some of the married ones liked to party without their husbands. There was a new place called The House (as in 'Let's take it to the House') where the pre-middle aged and well-to-do started hanging out. The House became known as a venue for picking up short-term relationships.

I noticed a change in Izzy over a couple of months period. She started by asking if it was okay to go out after a shift to have a drink with the girls. I saw no problem with that. She worked hard and deserved a break from her job and me. After a few weeks of going out occasionally, she appeared to me to become more and more depressed.

One night she spoke to me. "I'm not happy. When I go out with the girls from work, we have a few drinks, gossip and they dance with some of the men who come there."

"That doesn't seem so bad."

Izzy teared up and blurted out. "It's bad for me. No one asks me to dance because I'm too fat!"

"WARNING! WARNING! WILL ROBINSON" went off in my head.

"Now Izzy, you look just . . . "

"Stop it. I know you will say that I look good to you and you do show me that in many ways. I really and truly appreciate you for being that way. But I want to be appreciated too, by others besides you."

"I don't understand what you are getting at."

"I want to have stomach reduction surgery. I've already checked with a doctor. I am fat enough and I have failed at several diets. Our insurance will pay for 80%. We just have to pay the rest. There are good reasons for me to do this: Most importantly, it will improve my health. Your over-weight mother died young. I don't want to. I will feel better about myself. Wouldn't you like a more confident, independent wife? I have been made fun of all my life because I was overweight. You wouldn't understand how bad that makes me feel." She was crying.

I was stumped as exactly how to respond. "You know I will love you no matter the size. I know YOU think you would like yourself better if you weighed less. My concern is how this will change your personality and your feelings towards me. As more men find you attractive, you may want to be with someone else rather than me."

"Marcus Lee Griffin, I can't believe that you think I just want this surgery in order to replace you. I want to be 'attractive' to other men, not 'attract' other men. I plan for us to have children together and I want to be around for grandchildren. I'm disappointed in you. I thought you had more faith in our marriage than that. Yes, I want men to think I'm more attractive but the only man's attention I really want is yours. I can't believe you would not want me to have the surgery just because you are jealous of the possibility of other men hitting on me." Izzy started crying in earnest.

"Sweetheart, I won't prevent you from getting the surgery even though it will put a dent into our children's fund. All I wanted to do was to make sure of why you are really doing this."

"I'm glad you agree because I've scheduled the surgery for next month." She got up and left the room. It was a good thing because I was fuming. She had 'asked' me only after having already decided. It took me a while to calm down.

*****

Unfortunately, my apprehension was justified. Izzy had the surgery and in the months that followed she lost close to 150 pounds. She looked quite different to say the least. Her next 'request' was to have the rolls of leftover skin from rapid weight loss surgically removed. Another hit to the children's fund. Her weight stabilized after about a year. She looked fantastic if you used the modern definition of a beautiful woman as your standard. To her delight, the size of her boobs and ass were not reduced that much. Of course, this meant a brand-new wardrobe. Did I mention what was happening to the children's fund?

Izzy was happy beyond belief. Besides smiling all the time, she wore out the carpet while posing nude in front of the full-length mirror. She showed her appreciation to me in bed. Her weight loss did allow us to try some positions we had not used before. They were great, but so were all the other ones we tried before. She seemed to have become sexually insatiable overnight. I was having trouble keeping up. I know. Another warning I didn't catch.

She started back with girls' night out. They were longer lasting than before, but when she came home, she was ready to fuck regardless of my being asleep or not. Soon I could not stay up that late and she gave up on waking me.

I asked her what she was doing staying out so long. That made her angry. "What are you accusing me of?"

"I wasn't accusing you of anything, but it seems like someone has a guilty conscience. Want to elaborate?"

"I have been spending time with my friends, drinking and dancing. That's all, period."

"That's all? Answer me this: Have you done anything with another man that you would not have done if I was watching?"

Her face told it all. "I've been there to have fun. With the work I have to do in the hospital, I deserve it. So, what if some of the men get a little touchy-feely. It's nothing I can't handle. Are you telling me I can't go back?"

"I'm telling you that the fear I expressed before the surgery that you might be motivated by attracting other men seems to be coming true. I will not accept that. I cannot stop you from going out. But you can't stop how I will react if I find out you have gone too far."

"If that's all the trust you have in me, I just might go further. There are certainly plenty of men who would be willing. Don't you dare threaten me with you not accepting it. I know that you want me to fear you divorcing me. But, I know you better than that. You won't do anything like that. It would ruin both of us financially and you don't want to give up our sex life. You're stuck in your rut and like it. You just don't want me to get out of the rut I was in. You have no grounds to be threatening me -- YET. Remember that."

It was time to investigate. I had to call three different agencies before I could find a private investigator that had the time to follow Izzy. He said there had been a plague of adultery lately. He said it probably had to do with Global Warming. When I got the report back, I was informed that she spent a lot of time at the club with one particular man, a doctor from the hospital. They rubbed bodies on the dance floor, openly kissed, and spent about 15 minutes in the backseat of his Mercedes. From their positions and the motion of her head up and down, there was no doubt of what they were doing. Both were straightening their clothes when they got out of the car. Izzy had some cum on her mouth that was pointed out by one of the other nurses inside the club.

I was lucky. For the next few weeks there were no girls' night out. A shortage of nurses caused overtime for all the nurses left. Izzy usually came home at all different times and crashed. No offer of or desire for sex came from either of us. By the time the hospital was able to restock their nursing pool, I was ready. I figured Izzy would be planning on a special night on her first night back out on the town, and I was right. She had announced that she planned on staying late and spending the night with one of her nursing friends who lived nearby. She acted like she thought I would object. I had a different reaction.

Izzy looked puzzled when as she was leaving, I wished her a happy life. She said, "You're so weird sometimes." And off she went.

I paid extra for the video I got. It showed her dancing with her doctor friend. Although they snuggled some, they seemed to be negotiating something else. Probably the night's later activities. After several dances, she returned to the table with her friends to retrieve her purse. There was a nerdy-looking guy at the table she had never seen. The other nurses wouldn't look Izzy in the eye. She announced, "I've been invited to a private party. I've got another ride home and we're leaving now."

The nerdy man said, "Wait a minute. I have something for you." He pulled out a envelope and gave it to Izzy. "You've been served." She was stunned and looked at her doctor friend.

He said, "So what? This doesn't affect what we are going to do. Let's go."

The nerd once again spoke, "Wait a minute doctor."

The doctor replied, "What? Do you have an alienation of affection lawsuit? We haven't had sex yet. There is nothing to charge me with."

Suddenly two uniformed policemen came up and said, "Oh yes there is. Dr. Perry, you are charged with several counts of having sex with and providing others with sex from patients who were under sedation. We have already arrested the doctors and administrators at your hotel room that were waiting for you. Miss, you were lucky you didn't leave with him unless, of course, you wanted the gangbang that was planned."

It seems that my private investigator had discovered the doctor's scheme in the process of checking on his calls to Izzy. He immediately informed the police who were able to find several women willing to file a complaint after they were shown a video of their assault and his prosecution was assured. Somehow, the videos the doctor had made mysteriously disappeared from his private library in his office.

The video from the club showed that Izzy was temporarily paralyzed at the shock of being served. After a few minutes of crying, she tried calling me on my cell phone. She heard this message, "If you are someone trying to reach Mark Griffin, he has changed numbers and will tell the new number to those he wishes to. If you are his cheating slut wife, sign the papers. My lawyer will be handling the divorce as I am long gone."

I was halfway to my new job several thousand miles away in Phoenix by the time the video of her being served was sent to me. My lawyer informed me that Izzy had made several pleas for me to talk to her as 'nothing really happened.' I resisted the temptation to argue about the 'nothing' and what would have happened without my intervention.

Part of my revenge was to create a 'Missing Person' photo of Izzy and put it on a flyer. Besides giving her name and a description, it said, 'formerly loving wife, now sex craving slut, last seen performing fellatio in back seat of another man's car. If you see her, you can have her." The flyer was sent to everyone in her email contact list and posted on bulletin boards and telephone poles the area near our house.