Men Are From Mars

I interrupted. "Did you, like, him that size? I mean either 230 or whatever he is in this pic?" She Nodded. "I see"

"That's not the point." She said softly. "He loved his body and his confidence in it attracted me to him. He would take joy in eating and that led him to gain a lot of weight." She pointed back at the screen. "I asked him how he felt and he told me I should try it. I had already put on a few pounds being around him and from my student diet of late night pizza and energy drinks so I thought I'd take a less passive approach for a month and see where it got me. And eventually this is where it got me" She gestured toward her body.

I smiled at her. She looked nervous as if she feared she had made a mistake in revealing this to me. I had an idea to put her mind at rest. "Show me more of your gain. I find it sexy". It worked. She began opening folders within folders loading pictures of the last 3 years.

"This one is when I finally got my belly to overhang", "And this one is when I could finally call myself obese" She declared the latter with such great pride it made me giggle. The picture of her belly hang stirred me again. She was pulling down on the bottom of her belly. It just folded over her panty line. I pictured it growing lower to where it rested now: completely covering her panties. The thought of her growing made me hard again. "I'm so glad you're so in to this. I don't think I could be in a relationship with a guy who didn't love fat." She started toying with my stiffening dick. "Let me show you more". She opened another folder. All the jpegs were called feed followed by a number. She started at the first. "This pic gets me off". My dick jumped when I focused on the pic. It was her at about 180lbs lying on a bed stuffing a donut in her mouth. Her belly clearly distended. Her left hand playing with her plump mound through her panties. "I would do this twice a day. Stuff myself until I could barely take it, and then make myself cum so hard I'd shiver at the slightest touch for minutes afterward". You could tell the sexual excitement in her face as she described the scene. It was the same lustful look that she had in the photo. "The great thing about doing this is that it made me eat more and more each time. Until I got to here" She took my hand and placed it over her navel. Returning to her previous motion she continued her teasing of my now throbbing member.

"Don't you love the way it feels?"

I nodded. It was so sensual, so warm. It multiplied her very essence. "I'd never have thought that I'd be saying this but I love it. I love your fat"

She moved slightly close to me, my hand slipping deeper in to her softness. "Close your eyes." The command was calm and sultry. A dark whisper I felt complied to obey. "I want you to imagine something. Feel my folds with your fingers. stroke my rolls. Visualise this belly in your hands." I began to picture what I was feeling. Her toying with my cock became a rhythmic stroking up and down the underside of my shaft. I twitched. "How do you feel? Are you, aroused?" I swallowed and nodded. This was new, hypnotic, spellbinding. "Lift it from underneath and feel its weight. Feel how it moulds to your hand, draping round your palm" she began to grip me as her slow rhythm continued. "Now, I want to take you somewhere different. Keep your eyes close and let your mind wander." her rhythm quickened slightly as she began to work further up toward the tip. I could feel I was oozing precum as her hand descended. "Imagine you're sitting on your bed at home. We're alone. You can see my face smiling at you as I stroke you, like this." she was practically purring as her grip tightened a little. "Keep kneading my belly."

It was getting intense, I could feel the tension building as her pace quickened. "Now I want you to do something for me. Just a little something." I was too aroused to respond with anything more than a moan. "Imagine all that fat in your hands, that warm sensual fat. Imagine it was yours. That soft belly moved with your every move. Gave you weight. Rested on your thighs, massaging your cock when you moved."

I didn't know what to do or say. I was too close to do anything. "Imagine you are fat." With that she pumped me hard a vigorously until I came all over my body.

I gradually snapped out of my stupor. The mix of emotions running through me was so intense. Clouded by the relief I'd just experienced I focused on her mouth. She was grinning again. Reaching out with her hand she stroked my face. "So?" She asked.

I was feeling defensive. "So what?". She'd gone too far. Or had she. She said she loved fat. Maybe this was something she needed right now.

"So, how did that make you feel?".

I still had no response. I was honest. "I need time to think."

"I'm sorry but I had to do it. I can see it in you. You love fat. Like I love fat. It's natural. There're a lot of people who do. But not that many of them take the leap I have. I just want you to think about it."

"Think about what" I knew her answer already but I did not want to lead this conversation

"You know. About BEING fat. Fat like me. Fat with me."

"I.." I honestly had no answer. I simply shut up and let her continue.

"If you'd let me. I'd like to show you what it's like to be as free as I am to enjoy myself" She moved closer. "To eat, to grow. To feel yourself move against your own thighs." She was getting excited. "I want to help grow you. Turn you in to a gourmand like I am. Watch your belly soften then sag. Feel the pleasure you feel of having it rest on me as I give you pleasure. Watch your body get enveloped in this wonderful jelly. Make you hard by moving your belly. I want to make you complete" She was impassioned. "Just try it", She whispered. "I know you'll love it".

My heart raced at the realisation that we had 2 more nights together before I could seek the sanctuary of my own place. I was psychologically marooned in the city ocean. No media distractions I could understand, no familiar faces to be my crutch. I was staring change in the face, my back against a wall. Was it a friend or foe?

"How do you know?" I asked plainly. I wanted to test if this was just a sexual stupor or if she was seriously inviting me to gain weight. I knew she had it in her. Her ex was a sure sign of that. But who was leading who into larger sizes?

"I know, sweetie, because I've watched you. I've been with you intimately without your guard up. I've seen the look in your eyes when you enjoy a meal. It's in you. You just need to set it free."

I don't know if what she was saying was true or if it was simply a phantom of her desires. Either way that night shaped our relationship in to everything that it became.

She settled backward as if in retreat. She probably felt as unsure as I did at that moment but she tried not to show it. "We have 2 more days" she began, "Two days for you to sample my life style without risk of anyone but me seeing it." She started subtly nodding, "We wouldn't want you to leave Paris without having experienced all it has to offer. You can eat to excess in the city where people come to eat! And, if I'm right, you can discover yourself."

She made a compelling case. Paris at the time was home to more award winning restaurants than any other city on the planet. It was the foodie's mecca. At least I could show her I was overindulging for the next two days. And at the same time I could sample some of the world's greatest flavours. If I changed my mind then I could call the whole thing off when we returned to London. The risks were low, the potential upside was high. The costs were minimal. This was a good deal. "Shall we call concierge and get them to find us a table somewhere?"

She was ecstatic. She began clapping her hands together rapidly in an animated fashion, her billowy upper arms reverberating her joyous motion. "I knew you'd say yes. I promise to make this weekend the best of your life!"

Her excitement was getting the better of her as we got ready. In the shower she began stroking my stomach. "This is the way to a man's heart. And you have a big heart" She wanted to keep me excited about everything. She was practically babbling about the intimacy of it all and the bonding we were doing. It was all a little much but I kept a brave face. There was not a moments silence as we put on our clothes and headed to the lobby. The concierge was a friendly portly fellow from the south. He had the Marsaillais twang and was keen to talk about his country's great culinary history. He had selected a restaurant he saw fitting for a couple who wished to experience the best Paris had to offer in traditional surroundings. He said they didn't offer a tasting menu but if we mentioned Hugo sent us they could put something together. Thanking him for his service we entered a cab and a stunning 15 minutes taxi ride later we arrived at Le Relais. It was as he described: traditional in every decorative detail. The walls like a tudor home had visible wooden pillars and beams. Our table was low lit and felt intimate. The stage was set for a romantic evening.

Kate was keen to get started and beckoned the waiter. Teasing me under the table with her foot she created a tasting menu consisting of 3 appetisers, a middle course, followed by the beef rib for two. The waiter looked both surprised and pleased. Summoning the sommelier he proceeded to the maitre d'maison's post and appeared to be conversing with him about us for a good 5 minutes. "I think he thinks we've gone mad!" I whispered.

"I think he thinks we're critics." she replied knowledgeably. She'd obviously been in this situation before.

The sommelier was a dry fellow but clearly enjoyed his job. He asked us how much wine we would like. I took charge this time and asked for a match per course and for him to suggest providing the bottles weren't extortionate. Kate added an aperitif of pastis to the order. Closing the menu he bowed with a smile and proceeded to his decanting table.

Even before the food arrived I felt a sense of achievement. Knowing I was about to eat more than I'd ever ate before didn't phase me. It felt right. I was not sat staring at a mound of junk food. I was doing something that was acceptable. I was sampling the finest food in the city of love with a girl I was falling for. All seemed right. The pastis was set down. It's milky white colour clouding the glass and my judgement. "This helps build the appetite. It will help reduce the feeling of bloating as you go on too. Which will help you finish." her sole was massaging between my legs for the whole statement.

As the first dishes arrived I started to realise I may have tackled a little more than I thought.

Like with the patisserie, each dish was as much art as a meal. The physical size of each dish did not set as much of a challenge as the richness of the food. Salted butter and cream sauces topped meats which sat on fried croutons. Some with foiegras, some with cheese. All a delight but not for the weak palleted. The sweet wine that married the savoury were sublime. But for all the grandiose dining going on above table, the white cloth hid a taboo underpinning to the entire meal. Dish after dish, course after course we appeared the epitome of upper middle class pomp, describing each dish and comparing with other restaurants we had visited; all the while her foot was keeping me on edge, running up and down my member which was pressed hard against the fabric of my trouser.

Of course this was not the only strain they were feeling. My belt was already undone and I was rapidly running out of space as the cheese course arrived. Sweating slightly - partly from the strain of overeating, partly from the tension in my loins - I pushed my way through. But it was not over:

Desert was a sampling platter in itself with two mini versions of all eight offerings dividing the table. I looked at her and looked down at the platter with defeat. "I..."

"You're not done yet." She interjected coldly "They're ALL yours except the mille-feuile. I'll coach you through".

I was running out of space for my lungs but she was relentless. "One bite for one stroke". I tested her. A chocolate bombe. I took half on my fork and put it to my lips. The moment it passed through I felt her. I repeated. so did she. Again and again, I was so caught up in it. Everything visible to the patrons was normal. Everything I could feel was not. By waist band was taught, by breathing laboured, my boxers wet. She was right. I did love this. She got all she said in to me, and all she predicted out of me. We were done there but far from done for the evening.

It was a slow walk to the cab. Even with a complimentary stiff drink of poirwilliams I felt inflated. In the back of the cab Kate quietly cooed over the damage done. My tummy pushed against 4 buttons of my blue shirt, my trousers were undone and my lower gut pressing on the zipper. "Round one was yours sweetie. You owned it!" She seemed as pleased with herself as she did with my efforts. She began stroking my midsection. I stifled a belch. "Who my sexy glutton?" I could tell by her tone she was ready for the bedroom.

In the cab she began giving me my reward. "Always stroke it in a counter clockwise motion" she began circle in my paunch with her palm. "Think of it like an exercise in coordination." Her other hand joined in on my crotched. Slowly and firmly she began teasing me in to an upright state. "That's it. Feel your fullness getting you aroused!" Her words like a siren drew me to her touch.

Exiting the cab I was too far gone to care if the people in the lobby could see my excitement. Through the lobby and in to the elevator, I was feeling lighter on my feet with anticipation of what was to come.

Sitting was a chore, but she knew how to relieve me of my discomfort. She began sliding my trousers off. The weight of my distended gut drew my eyes to it. The damage was minimal. A slight paunch. Nothing to reflect the bloated feeling I was experiencing. Looking up I was greeted with her mischievous grin.

"Time to some weight training." She sounded sultry as she continued, "I'm going to make you crave this feeling as much as you crave me." Her hand toyed with her love handle that was shaping her dress.

Dropping the strap off her shoulder she began to undress herself. "I think I see a little more space in there. I bet I can find it" Her dress dropped to the floor revealing her plump flesh. "Sit back sweetie. While I find some supplies"

She waddled over the fridge. I instinctually knew what was coming and didn't care to fight it. I was sated but if she wanted to try she could feed me more. Emerging with a box of six truffles she made her to the bed. "Comfy?"

I moaned. Of all the sensations I was experiencing comfort was not at the top of the list. "Such a greedy man. I think you deserve a reward".

As gracefully as her ample form allowed she lowered her mouth to my cock. Lightly licking the tip she smiled "Mmmm. Tastes sooo good." She took me in her mouth. Her saliva lubing my member which was having no problems overcoming the fading discomfort in my abdomen. "Eat for me. Feed yourself. Make yourself grow for me and I will give you pleasure like you've never felt before."

She was working my head with her well trained tongue. I opened the box and placed a chocolate in my mouth. She paused "Good boy. Now chew" I broke the outer layer and she went back to her task. I was on edge by then third and was barely aware of how full I was.

"Picture yourself stuffing your face, your body billowing out below as you lay back on the bed. Image your future, your fat engulfing you." Her mouth returned to my dick as I stuffed the four and fifth in my mouth at the same time. I was truly picturing it. I wanted it. I wanted to look down and see my belly hiding her. I wanted to have a body like her ex did. I wanted to be fat just to see the lust in her eyes. I grabbed the final one as I began to pulse. As it started she reached her hand to my balls and with one finger gland my no go zone. The spasm as I came was so intense my hip crack as I bucked, She pushed me down using her weight pinning me by my hips as I pumped my load in to her mouth. I was seeing stars. The crimson of the room warming my vision as the relief raised in to my head. I was spent.

As I lay their I felt her breath on my cheek. Kissing me warmly she whispered, "My Fatty."

I lay their yet again a changed man. She had led me to the edge, but I had jumped over. I felt like I was in free fall. I had just came imagining myself morbidly obese. It was the most deviant thing I had ever experienced.

The weekend went on in a similar manner. She would order room service before and after each outing. There outings were a symphony for the senses with the sights and sounds of Paris being decorated by excess. "You're finding this easier" she declared during our final lunch. Again she was right. I had eaten practically an entire 12 slice gateau within 24 hour plus all the meals. Every time I had stuffed myself, she stuffed me some more, then emptied my balls back at the hotel room. The pleasure pain balance had shifted and the discomfort no longer registered.

The week after we got back I noticed few changes in my size but a definite difference in my appetite. I was snacking constantly. On Wednesday I got a phone call from her in the evening. She asked me to put her on speakerphone as I ate. I felt dirty as I followed her instruction. Her tone dripped sex "Take a bite." She heard me chew, "Now stroke yourself inside your pants" I followed her instruction. "That's is dirty boy. mmmmm."She moaned, "I'm getting so hot. Do it again for me."

I did: A whole 20" Pizza passed my lips. "Now you've eaten 6000calories. That's a pound of delicious fat. Now, cum for me." My hand was on autopilot following her instruction. I came in my boxers with a smile at how dirty I felt.

It wasn't a long while until the effects began to take their toll. Little by little my waist band was growing tighter, issuing in a new size. We celebrated each change in size with dinner in bed.

Sitting face to face, legs apart her belly resting on the top sheet we fed each other. Her encouraging me exploration of both of our growing bodies. On my graduation to 36" pants she led me through an ordeal I still dream of today.

It was a Friday. She had been in the office but I couldn't get off the desk to see her. A text flashed on my screen as her meeting was due to start 'How's my growing man?'

I now knew how to get her going, '36s no belt. Shall we give the liver a rest for a w/e?'

The reply was short, 'my place, 2200.'

Her apartment lighting was dimmed. Candles guided me to the bedroom from where her seductive voice called, "This way sweetie."

I kicked off my shoes and proceeded toward the door. As I passed the threshold I my advance was halted by the sight that greeted me. She stood, in all her 315lbs naked glory aside a table laden with confectionary. The sheer quantity blocked my vision of half of the bed. I surveyed the serving: Chocolate Truffles, Laduree Macarons, fancies, Small ganache covered cubes, different colors and shapes set on tiered trays glistening in the candle light like three fondant Christmas trees under which candied presents covering the wooden floor.

"I hope you're ready"

Guiding me down on to the bed, I felt her dominance, her weight. "Make yourself comfortable." She propped me up against the back board. Her hypnotic sway had me entranced as she made her way to the table. "It's one for me and one for you tonight".

Picking up one of the tiered trays she surveyed my state. Her eyes resting on my now softened middle. A nod, a smile and she was ready to begin. "Tonight I'm going to try keep you on the edge. You're gonna beg me to finish you but your hands are only to feed and please me. Just as mine are only to feed and tease you."