Misunderstanding
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s been weeks since I’ve heard those words. When I sleep, I hear them echoing in my head. Followed by the memories. A break in the luxurious feast I displayed on the bed we bought a year ago...His face craning up to look at me...His almond-shaped eyes tracing my features. He’d whisper those words to me, even though we were alone. I’d whisper them back. His face would always be mere centimeters from mine. Even though I wanted him to keep eating, I loved him first and foremost. Food could wait.
His lips would move first, gently nibbling on my lower one, making me giggle. My hand would reach out for a judicious roll of fat I had lovingly put on him. I’d squeeze and stroke it, all while tasting my boyfriend’s soft, sugary lips. Jason was the sweetest boy I knew. Almost literally. He had a persuasive sweet tooth. Every kiss had a lingering flavor of chocolate and peanut butter. His favorite.
“Todd,” he’d say to me, “I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”
Now the bed is too big, the kitchen is too empty, and I wake up with a sour glaze on my tongue. Jason left me over a month ago. Called it “a separation.” Said he needed to work some things out. When he left our apartment, I threw everything that could shatter onto the floor. Vases, picture frames, dishes...you name it. Then I dropped to my knees and cried for three hours. One hour for each year we were together.
Common sense and Cosmopolitan dictates that I should get over him. He’s not worth my love. But Jason was the first guy I had ever shared my deepest secret with. I liked fat. No. That’s wrong. I love fat. I have since I was a little kid. If I thought about all the childhood triggers...The Santa Clause...“Doug Tips the Scales”...I’d go a little haywire. Something about the way fat moves, feels, tastes...It’s like the most luscious hug in the world. I could go on for days about the topic.
Jason was not fat when I met him at the mall. He worked at one of those little kiosks selling sunglasses while studying for his Master’s. I caught him staring at me while I had lunch at the nearby food court. It was like he had frozen in place, eyes wide and wondering, mouth agape. Like he had seen some mythical creature land in front of him. He was completely oblivious to the mom browsing his kiosk with a baby whacking him on the shoulder with a rattle.
I am not above noticing when I’m being checked out. I stole a few glances of my own...and I liked the view. He was a bit thin for my taste, but well-proportioned with good, strong, wide shoulders and good legs. His hair gleamed like gold in the mall’s ugly fluorescence (a magical thing since it tended to make people look pasty and sick), and his almond eyes were a warm, chocolate brown. He had a nice set of lips on him too, and I couldn’t wait to see his smile.
If you want to know anything about me, you should know I’m stubborn. So when I saw Jason staring at me, I knew I wanted to go on a date with him. Don’t ask me why. I just wanted that date, and I wasn’t going to sit around like a spoiled princess and wait for him to ask me.
I tossed my half-eaten corndog into the garbage, marched up to him, and said “So do you like what you see?”
At which point, Jason melted into the most adorable puddle of shame I had ever seen. Poor guy. He was so embarrassed about being caught. He wrung his hands, stammered, and blushed every shade of red in the crayon box. He wanted assure me that he wasn’t a stalker or something like that. He thought he lost his chances with me. So I put him at ease by asking him to dinner that night. Well, actually, he was suspicious at first. But after we both lost two hours of our day talking to each other, we agreed a date might be a good idea.
The restaurant was Mongolian BBQ. Jason was really cute that night. I didn’t expect it, but he stole my heart. I don’t know how he did it, the little minx. One moment we were discussing whether or not to split the check, the next I tasted chocolate and peanut butter on his tongue. That’s when he told me of his addiction to things like Reese’s and Butterfingers. When he gets nervous, he tends to gorge on his favorite candy. And he was terrified of our first date.
But that first date led to a second. Then a third. Then a twelfth. Then a thirty-second.
On our fortieth date, I told him I loved him. And the little belly he had gained in my loving hands. His appetite was great, and I had elaborate fantasies of blowing him up like a Goodyear blimp. Jason said he adored me, that the first day he saw me I was the most beautiful boy in the world to him. He certainly made me feel it.
Thinking back on all this makes me want to punch him in the face...and then kiss away the bruise.
Because I did love him. I still do. He was my boyfriend, the first guy I ever called that. He was the only soul in the universe to know about my love of fat. And he ballooned for me.
I told him not long after I said I love you. Because I knew I’d have to be honest with him. He was so cute with his beginner belly, all soft and squishy and hungry. I could have fattened him up in secret. That would take no effort. But I loved and respected Jason. I would not go behind his back on this. So while he was munching away on a Butterfinger in bed, I rubbed his tummy and told him that I wanted him to grow.
I was terrified that night, almost paralyzed with fear. I never told a soul before. And I didn’t want to lose Jason. My voice trembled, and my eyes started to water. Jason looked at me sort of funny, then looked down at his little belly.
“Is this why I’m getting heavier?” he asked.
“Oh Jason,” I said, “I’d never go behind your back like that. I just like watching you eat and enjoy yourself. But I’d never make you gain without your cooperation. It’s your body. But I admit...” I rubbed his belly slowly. “I love a fat guy. And I’ve always loved fat...” I continued to explain, stammering worse than Jason did on the day we met.
Jason stared at his new gut, his eyebrows pinched together. “How...How big are we talking?”
Personally, my fantasies made him pretty huge. But I didn’t want to scare him. “Only until you’re comfortable, babe. I won’t force you. We can just forget about it and pretend it never happened.” I switched on the TV, trying to drown out my shame.
Jason switched it off. “You’ve never told anyone about this secret, have you, Todd?”
I shook my head. “I was too scared. But I adore you, Jason. You’re my boyfriend. I wanted to be honest with you.”
Finally, a smile (the most amazing, perfect, gorgeous smile on Earth, hands down) spread across his face. “Then I guess I better get another candy bar.”
Three years and over a hundred pounds later, I thought we were happy. Jason had ballooned into my beautiful, perfect fat boy. He was the softest, sweetest, cuddliest guy I ever knew. I spoiled him, feeding him as much of his favorites as I could, massaging his swollen gut, loving him more than anything. He was the love of my life.
Then one day, he tells me we’re finished, and my happy world is destroyed.
* * *
The worst thing about this break-up is running into Jason at the mall.
He’s still there at the sunglasses kiosk, now three times the man he was when I met him. Mediums gave way to 2XL’s stretched tight over a food-loving gut. A thick double chin cradled a soft, sweet face framed by two chubby cheeks. His chest sagged onto his gut. I could see a little bit of belly peeking out from under the hem of Jason’s work shirt. It drove me nearly insane. I wanted him so badly.
Our eyes met...and we turned the other way. It was like he ripped my heart out of my chest with that one look, leaving me weirdly hollow inside. I ordered my lunch at the food court and picked a good spot where I could watch Jason for a little while. Now I felt like the stalker.
Dammit, Todd, my common sense would scream, You need to get over him. He dumped you. All that crap about loving you and thinking you were beautiful was just a pile of horseshit!
I couldn’t believe that, even if I wanted to. I thought he did love me. Once. Then somewhere along the way, his love soured.
I snuck another glance at him. My God, he was big. He dwarfed his customers. I could make out each bulge and roll of sweet blubber I put on him. Jason was the dictionary definition of fat. Our fat. The fat I put on him. Out of love and tenderness. I treated him like a king!
It suddenly got very hot in the food court, and I was crushing my soda in my fist.
Jason got fat because of me. I put every delicious pound on him. That fat was almost a symbol of our love. Like a wedding band. I vowed to take care of him, to love him at any size. And that son of a bitch dumped me!
I had never been that angry in my whole life. I hated Jason. For one clear, crystalline moment, I loathed him. I grew dizzy from the sudden rush of blood to my brain. I could barely feel the ice-cold soda drooling over my fist. Everything went red.
How could he? HOW COULD HE?!
A voice calling out to a customer to pick up their order snapped me back to reality. My whole body grew cold. I was frightened by how deep that anger went. In six weeks, I had never really let myself get angry at Jason. I always blamed myself. But at that one moment, I put ALL the blame on Jason. Every last ounce. He was weighed down with it like he was with fat.
That fat. Our fat. I wished I could get rid of it. Every time I saw it, I remembered the stuffings, the late night feasts in bed, the happy weigh-ins. That pig didn’t deserve that reminder of how much I loved him. If I could lipo it out of him, I would have.
If only Jason would slim down again...
I shook the thought out of my head, feeling a headache burrow into my skull. All this frustrated anger and hurt was going to drive me to drink soon. I needed to get the hell out of here. Abandoning my lunch, I walked out of the food court.
And saw the worst thing in the world.
Another guy flirting with Jason. I could see it in his body language. He leaned too close, brushed his hips against Jason’s hard-to-hide belly, and laughed a little too much. I loathed the way his hand lingered on Jason’s shoulder.
Jason was mine.
Then the cold, hard truth slapped me. Jason wasn’t mine anymore. I lost the best thing to ever happen in my life.
My rage went from red-hot to white-hot. I stormed to the nearby restroom, anxious to escape before I did something REALLY stupid. I barely caught the look of concern in Jason’s eyes as he watched me storm off.
I punched the stall doors until my knuckles bled.
* * *
I should not have had those eight beers. I’m stupid drunk. Jason never let me get this drunk, but now that I’m single, I can make all the dumb choices I want. And this one was dumb. I was angry, hurt, lonely, and depressed. The last thing I needed was booze. But booze was easier to get than meaningless sex, so...
I went on Grommr. Another dumb move when I’m drunk. I can barely spell my own name when I’m like this. But I just wanted something to take the edge off, to make me not feel so stupid and ugly. I flipped through the catalogue of fat boy pictures, trying to find a good one that would send me into sweet oblivion. Nothing good. I didn’t feel like answering any messages or talking to my friends. I’d just end up bawling about how much I hate this break-up. I was about to close my browser when a last, liquored-up whim took hold of me. I mashed out a status and sent it.
How can I get back at the fatass who dumped me?
It didn’t take long to get replies. I sifted through them. A Skype request. A request if I was okay. Bland sympathy. Skype request. Long ass rant about how revenge is unhealthy. A message from a friend saying he knew I was wasted and that he thought I needed someone to talk to before I did something “outrageously stupid.” A random phone number. Skype request.
My phone rang. Clearly my friend was now in a panic since I didn’t reply to his message. Oh well. I’d amuse him.
“What is it, Johnny?” I slurred.
“Aw dude...You’re totally shit-faced.”
“You got that right. Might get another beer.”
“Don’t you dare. Look...I know this break-up sucks but you can’t let it destroy you.”
“I’m in a sarcastic mood. I’m warning you.”
“Todd. Listen to me. You’re hurt. You’re drunk. And you’re on edge. I think it’s best if you...Did I just hear a beer tab pop?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh God, you’re a mess tonight.”
“Thanks, Johnny. That makes me feel better.” And I hung up on him. Actually, it was a soda can tab, but I just wanted him to stop talking. The phone rang again, but I tossed it on the couch and forgot about it.
One last message popped up. Some faceless profile. Normally, I toss that junk. But the subject line stopped me.
How to get even.
“Oh well,” I said, “I’m in the mood to make poor choices tonight.”
I opened it.
God, it sounded so stupid. It was some witchcrafty spell thing. Guaranteed to make gainers pay by sucking off all their hard-won fat, no matter how much they pigged out. They’d never get fat again. As an added cheery finish, the user wrote “Hey, it worked in that movie, Thinner?” I snorted into my soda.
Then I laughed. It was just what I needed. Something mindless and shallow to get my anger out. I could wish Jason’s fat away, all that weight which embodied how much I loved him. He’d lose every last pound of affection I gave him. Sweet revenge. It’d probably taste like a Butterfinger.
I rubbed my throbbing temples, forcing myself to forget that little memory. No more thoughts about Jason. He was going to pay.
I slurred through the spell, hiccupping a few times. God, I was so far gone. I’d probably pass out in the chair. But when I finished the spell, I felt a little better. Not staggeringly better. Just a little. I didn’t feel like I had sweet, justified revenge on the man I still loved. I just felt empty. Alone.
Oh well. There was still some beer in the fridge.
* * *
“Shit, Todd. You look like crap.”
Everything was blurry when I woke up, and my tongue felt like used cat litter. I tried to sit up, but the world spun too quickly so I just wilted back into the...the what? I tried to grope the furniture I was on. Couch. I passed out on the couch. Sure beats the floor.
Through the haze and the headache, I thought I saw Johnny hovering over me.
“Johnny,” I mumbled, “What are you doing here? You live six hours away.”
“I took a week off from work and drove like hell to get here, Todd. I knew you were messed up. You’re lucky I made the drive. I found you passed out on the floor. If Jason saw--”
That woke me up. “Don’t you DARE mention that fat son of a bitch to me!”
Johnny frowned. “How many did you have last night?”
“I lost count.”
“Todd...what are you doing to yourself? You never pull something like this.”
“Well, maybe it’s the brand new Single Todd. Has full-on benders and throws up in your mom’s closet.”
“I don’t think I like Single Todd.”
“Yeah, well...he doesn’t like it either.”
I tried to prop myself on my elbows. Johnny gently pushed me back down.
“You better rest a little, dude. You’ll hurt yourself with that hangover.”
“Since when did you become my mother?”
“Since you decided to pull this stupid stunt. For God’s sake, couldn’t you and Jason still be friends? Did you even talk to him about why he broke up with you?”
I tried to stifle my tears. “I don’t want to. He dumped me. End of story.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. You and Jason were so happy together. There’s got to be reason why he wanted to cut it off. He owes you an explanation.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I buried myself in the couch cushions.
Johnny pulled me out. “You’re worried it’s about the gaining thing. That somehow, you pushed him away.”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil. Now go analyze someone else’s life.”
Johnny crossed his arms over his sizeable belly. At 250 pounds, he was a fine chunk of meat. “Not until you tell me about that message I found on your Grommr. How to get even?”
I blushed. “You...I...Did you snoop through my stuff?”
“You left your browser open, hotshot. Probably passed out after reading it. After I made sure you were still alive and got you comfortable, I checked it out. What are you thinking, Todd? You know that crap doesn’t work.”
“I...I...I just wanted to vent.” I wiped away a few tears. “I was so angry at Jason. And then I saw this guy flirting with him, and it made me jealous and furious and I just wanted to make him miserable.”
“And it’s a good thing you got absolutely blitzed beforehand, right?”
“Is your job here to make me feel like crud?”
“No. I’m here to make you more self-aware. You scared the shit out of me, Todd. You were here all by yourself. What if something happened to you?”
I hugged my knees close to my thin body. “Yeah, well...thanks for checking on me.”
Johnny clapped a fat hand on my shoulder. “No problem, dude. Now let’s get some food into you. Then we’ll go to the mall.”
“Why?”
“You and Jason need to talk.”
* * *
I was too hung-over to fight, but in my head, I kicked and screamed. I didn’t want to see Jason. If I did, I’d either hate him or get horny, both bad choices. Johnny didn’t want to hear my protests. He stuffed me in his car and drove me to the mall.
Jason was at the kiosk. I could spot him from a mile away. But today, he looked different. Less big. Less bloated. I couldn’t see the delicious dip of belly below his hemline. Did he get bigger clothes? No...his face seemed a little less chubby too.
Oh God...Jason lost weight. Don’t tell me that stupid spell worked. That would replace all the rules I ever had for reality.
Jason blushed when he saw Johnny and me approach. “Oh hi, Johnny...Didn’t know you were in town.” His eyes drifted over to me. They softened and warmed. “Todd...”
I felt the irritating twitch in my jeans and thundering of my heart. Oh crap, I would never get over him.
“Listen, Jason,” Johnny said, “You and Todd need to have a long talk about what happened between you two. You guys were crazy about each other. So why don’t you tell him what happened before he pulls another stupid stunt like he did last night?”
Jason’s eyebrows lifted in alarm. “What did he do?”
“Get blackout drunk.”
When Jason’s frightened eyes turned to me, I lost my nerve. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand there and listen to the man I loved tell me what’s wrong with me. With us. With everything we had. I wasn’t ready.
So I bowed to my own cowardice. I ran. Bolted away from that stupid kiosk. Johnny and Jason stared after me, frozen in shock.
I didn’t stop running until I reached the Mexican restaurant at the front of the mall. Tears were flying down my face. I felt stupid and exposed and scared and none of the rational arguments my brain made seemed to take hold. Johnny could find out what was wrong with my relationship. I was going to hide out in the Mexican restaurant, living off free chips and salsa for the next fifty years.
I started that plan, at least. I shuffled inside, and the waitress showed me to my booth. She shoved a menu in my face, rattled off a few badly pronounced Mexican specials, took my half-hearted drink order, and bounced off. Good riddance. I just wanted to be alone.
The emptiness came back. Since last night, it had grown into a huge abyss. The beer did that. The beer made it blacker and deeper. I hated myself.
The waitress splashed some of my soda on me when she delivered it. At least, it woke me out of the trance I was in. The one where I was sliding into the emptiness.
I ordered the biggest meal they had. Something to fill the abyss inside me.
And I ate every scrap. I guzzled soda and ate until it hurt. Until I couldn’t feel anything but the harsh pain of my stomach.
That’s when Johnny and, to my surprise and horror, Jason found me.
“There you are!” Johnny said, “Will you knock it off with these stunts?! We searched the whole mall for you!”
I could only hiccup and burp, rubbing my swollen stomach. It hurt to breathe.
Jason slid into the seat across from me. Oh how he used to do that every date night. It made my heart ache, and I felt like downing another basket of chips.
His beautiful almond eyes were wet with concern. “Todd...Don’t do this to yourself because of me. I can’t stand watching you suffer.”
“Then why did you fucking dump me?” I slurred.
“I didn’t dump you, Todd. I...I just...I had some things to work through.”
“Yeah...some things...Some things you couldn’t work through with your boyfriend. What was wrong with me, Jason? Spit it out.” I hiccupped.
Johnny restrained me when I reached out for another sip of my sixth soda. “Dude, you haven’t been getting drunk, have you?”
“No. Just hungry.”
Then Johnny gaped at the collection of plates, bowls, baskets, and glasses on my table. His gaze shifted to my swollen gut. “Dude, did you eat all this? Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“Shuddup, Johnny.”
Jason put his hand on mine. I felt the warmth pass between us, the electric tingle. He didn’t play fair.
“Todd...You’re scaring us. We care about you. Why don’t you tell us what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?!” I choked on my soda. “How about my sweetheart of a boyfriend who I loved faithfully for three years dumping me out of nowhere?! How’s that for wrong?! I’m getting out of here!”
Jason squeezed my hand. “I think we do need to talk. I still love you, Todd.”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. Why don’t the two of you talk it out if that’s what you want. Maybe you should get married while you’re at it since you’ve gotten so chummy. I’m leaving.”
And I stormed out of the restaurant without paying. Johnny told me later that Jason took care of it for me.
* * *
Johnny’s week with me consisted of him keeping me in line. I was, as my friend so bluntly put it, “insane.” I either wanted to drink myself stupid, fuck anything with legs, or gorge until my insides exploded. He kept asking me why. I told him I was trying to fill the emptiness. He looked at me like I was crazy and kept me on a short emotional leash. He threw out all the booze in my apartment and watched what I ate. And how much I ate.
But I tried to subvert his well-meant actions. Like when he caught me bloated from three tubs of ice cream. He threatened to call a shrink because I was not handling the break-up well. I told him to shut up and bring me the chocolate sauce.
On his last day, I could tell he wished he could afford to stay longer. He got me down to a reasonable lifestyle. I didn’t want beer anymore (It brought the emptiness.) and I didn’t really want another sexual partner after Jason. Food was hard to get me to quit. It seemed to be the only thing that could plug up the hole in my heart. I even told him that, when I was full, I felt more like myself.
As he was leaving, Johnny clapped both hands on my shoulders and looked me dead in the eyes. “Okay, Todd. This is it. You promise me you’re not going to go hysterical, right?”
I assured him I would be good.
“Don’t get mad at me, dude, but I think you’re going to regress a little. You’re in for a hard couple of months. I’ll check on you regularly. If you ever need to talk or think you’re going to have a nervous breakdown, call me, okay? I’ll take the call.”
I made my promises.
But after I heard his car leave, I grabbed my keys and went to the grocery store. I was going to buy a mountain of junk food and gorge until I died.
* * *
I didn’t die. But I think I came close. I was so stuffed that sitting upright was a Herculean labor.
This isn’t healthy, I know. I’m swapping food for Jason. I’m so messed up in my head. But eating like a pig makes me think of him, brings the same, if not better, feelings of arousal and love in me. It’s like we’re back together, back in our happy days.
Except each time I go to the mall, I see Jason has dropped more weight. Losing all the fat I loved onto him. He’s still so handsome, happier even. There seems to be a new spark of confidence in his eyes. And guys take notice. All the single gays in the city flock to him.
And when I watch this happen, I go to the food court and slam two or three meals down my throat. It’s getting easier to eat more. And when I stuff myself, I think that I’m the only one who knows this secret Jason and I shared. I knew what turned him on, what made him happy. Those skinny fucks that flocked around him didn’t know a damn thing about my man. Except that he wasn’t my man. Oh hell. Bring on the dessert.
Then I’d sit and rub the bloated pad of fat on my stomach, wishing my hands were Jason’s. But it hurt too much to say I missed him.
After a month of this, I gained fifteen pounds. The next month brought another fifteen. Soon, I wasn’t eating to fill the void inside me. I was just hungry.
Every once in a while, I’d catch a worried glance from Jason. That made me want to gorge more and show off. Yeah...Look at what’s happened to me, jerk. You’ve destroyed me.
Maybe I was falling apart.
Halfway through the third month (adding another six pounds to my frame), Jason stopped me before I charged into the food court for another pig-out.
“Todd, I was hoping to catch you. I’m on my lunch break. I think we should talk.”
“Dream on,” I said and moved to pass him.
He held me back. “Todd, please. I’ll...I’ll take you to that Mexican restaurant up front. I have a coupon for buy one entrée, get another free.”
My traitorous belly purred at the idea. Oh yeah. I had a full-on pot belly showing through my now snug shirt.
So I went with him. Hey, it was free food. And I was going to make him pay...just not in the way I used to think.
Jason and the waitress gaped when I ordered two huge entrees for myself. He ordered a rather modest meal for himself. He lost so much weight. His jawline was becoming more defined and his arms and chest were more toned. His belly had shrunk considerably, giving him a beefy ex-jock look. He was annoyingly handsome and sexy, especially the new confidence that glimmered in his eyes.
When the food came, I decided to go for the throat. “Let’s the cut the crap, Jason,” I said, “You’ve hoarded that coupon for days just to get me to have lunch with you. What do you want?”
He blushed, stung by my words. “I wanted to talk.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk. I want to eat.”
He murmured under his breath. “So I’ve noticed...”
I glared at him. I was gearing up for a fight. “Care to run that by me, Jason?”
He gave me a hard look. “You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing? For the past few months, you’ve gone to the food court and stuffed the shit out of your gut.”
“Just like I’ve noticed those queens hanging off you.”
“Queens? If you’re talking about the guys, I don’t even flirt with them. Actually, they make me uncomfortable.”
“Still hasn’t stopped you from dropping all the weight I put on you.”
“Nor has it stopped you from eating like a pig.”
I jabbed my fork into my fat, oozing burrito and started shoveling the food into my mouth. “Is this what you hate? Me being a pig? ‘Cause I remember a time when you liked it. Does it bring back too many happy memories for you?”
Jason looked horrified. “Is that what this is all about? Are you getting fat just to get back at me?”
He said it. He dropped the F bomb. I knew I was gaining weight. I acknowledged that I was chubby now. But fat--the word I loved--was now being used as a weapon against me. I couldn’t let that happen.
I stood, my belly straining against my shirt. I grabbed a handful--quite a bit more than I expected to be there--and shook it.
“Take a good look, Jason. Because every time you see it, I want you to remember what caused it. You broke my heart. I’ve been feeling empty and lonely inside for months. Eating seems to be the only comfort I have left.”
And I plopped back down and continued to eat, occasionally sneaking a few bites from his plate. It could have looked cute if I wasn’t so mad at him.
Jason’s voice grew soft and started to tremble. “Todd...I...I can’t help but feel responsible for this.”
“Well, you are,” I said through a mouth stuffed with food.
“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you. Honest. I love you.”
“If you love me so much, why did you end the happiest time of my life?”
“Because I wasn’t happy.”
I choked down the rest of my soda and yelled for a refill. “So the cat’s out of the bag. You were miserable with me.”
“I was not! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You just said--”
“I said I wasn’t happy. It wasn’t with you. It was with me.” Then his eyes dropped to the table. “Well...maybe a little with you.”
“That’s it. That’s all I need to hear. Sayonara, buddy.”
“Will you let me finish?”
“No. You’ve said enough. I’m satisfied.” And I punctuated the remark with a burp.
Jason pounded his fist on the table. “Dammit, Todd! I’m trying to be honest with you. The way you were with me.”
I scratched my now stuffed gut. “Yeah...I just bared my soul to you. You’re dropping little hints and being vague. Totally the same thing.”
“Well, maybe I’m not as open as you. I’ve always been insecure.”
“And I always loved you enough to make up for it. Jason, you were the best man I ever had. When you left me, I was destroyed. I’m just now struggling to find my way again.”
Actually, I was struggling to get out of the booth. Being this stuffed made me want to nap. I heaved myself out of my seat and settled a hand on my bloated belly inching out of my shirt.
“Thanks for lunch, Jason,” I said, “but I think I’ll go to a buffet and eat until I explode.”
“Todd...why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Because it feels right.”
I charged out of the restaurant, feeling a bit more winded than usual, and made good my promise. I ate until my tight pants burst open. My belly, full with new fat, flopped into my lap. I never felt more satisfied.
That next month, I gained a record twenty pounds.
* * *
I had the most conflicting dream. Jason and me in bed. Having sex like we used to do. He was a big, fat mattress of a man again. I snuggled into his soft body, kissing every inch of skin I could. Every kiss made his fat ripple. He giggled, saying it tickled. I told him, my voice raw with lust, that it was going to tickle even more.
I worked my way over his fat, drooping chest and reached the promise land: Jason’s belly. God, he was enormous. Bigger than ever. His fat pooled across the bed. I kissed it, working up and over the soft, smooth blubber. I grabbed the sides of his mammoth belly, molding it in my eager hands. Fat personified. Glorious and gorgeous.
The scene changed. Gone was my fat Jason. Now the toned and lean Jason replaced him. He grinned at me, that devilish spark of confidence in his eyes. He worked himself down to just the merest of pudge. I still growled with lust at him, his beautiful eyes, his golden hair, the scent of his body. Jason reached up and pawed at my sides, grabbing a fat handful of...fat. I looked down in shock. Fat pooled out in front of me. A true fat belly. I looked like the old him.
I felt an odd stirring down below. Jason sat up and pulled me against him, my big belly squished between us. God, I was huge. I was enormous. I was fat. And yet, I was half-mad with the pleasure of being with my Jason again. We kissed until our tongues ached. I moaned as he squeezed and pinched every plump roll he could find. Hunger woke within me, and I nibbled on his firm, flat stomach. I wanted him. He wanted me. I--
--jolted suddenly, launched out of the dream with one hand on my new belly and the other one further down. Sweat peppered my hairline. My heart broke at the lost pleasure. Only a dream. The bed was still too big for me.
I crawled out and hobbled to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to return to harsh reality. What a wonderful dream. I could almost taste Jason again. Chocolate and peanut butter. Admittedly, I had taken up his old habit of Reese’s and Butterfingers when I was stressed, fluffing up my belly pretty well. My boss at the coffee shop says I’m looking “porky” now.
Chubby. Porky. Fat. For the first time, I gazed in the mirror and took blunt stock of my figure. I did get fat. I knew I was growing, but holy shit...Not this big. I calculated. Sixty pounds total. Pure blubber. I had become a pig.
Two plump cheeks met a freshly sprouted double chin. My neck had thickened along with my chest, which had the slightest of droops to it. My belly pillowed out from the constant stuffings and snackings, bookended by a pair of juicy, stretchmarked love handles. I turned to the side. My butt ballooned out behind me. My belly bulged out big and round, hungry for more food. Even now at two in the morning, it rumbled and purred.
I lifted my gut and let it puddle out of my hand. Soft. Fat. Flab. I felt a familiar twitch down south. I knew I loved fat, fantasized about it since I was five. But now I was the fat boy with an out-of-control appetite. And getting fatter, since I was growing hungrier and knew I would have a carton of ice cream before going back to bed.
I let my hands explore my belly a little longer. God, I was getting big. I wondered how big I could get. My body seemed to like gaining. Theoretically, I could get as big as I wanted.
Did I want to get any bigger? I was pretty fat already. My stomach growled some extra encouragement. It liked all the food. It liked being stuffed. It liked growing.
I liked it too. I smiled at my plump reflection. So what if I never find another fat boy like Jason? I could do it myself. Then I’d always have a gut to enjoy. I turned to the side again and slapped my belly. It jiggled happily. I was a gainer.
I marched out of the bathroom, into the kitchen, grabbed the ice cream, and dreamed about the next hundred pounds.
* * *
Taking control of my weight gain has done wonders for my mood and outlook. I’m no longer blindly stuffing myself hoping to fill a void inside me. I’m eating for a purpose. As such, I’ve actually scaled back on my portions. Stuffing myself stupid and to the point of bursting wasn’t too good for me. I wanted to enjoy the ride and take care of myself. I was still going to get very fat, but I wasn’t going to be fat and insane.
I gained another twenty pounds, lusciously filling out my bigger, fat boy clothes. My belly was always on display. I made sure that Jason got a good look at it and its steady growth. I felt sexier than ever. I wanted him to know I was feeling good about myself, even with this ever-hungry belly hanging off me.
I finally decided to change my Grommr profile to reflect my gainer status and filled it with pictures of the new plumper me. Which is how my breakfast was rudely interrupted the next day by some frantic knocking on the door. I opened it to find Johnny. His eyes bulged out of his head when he spotted my extra additions.
“Shit,” he mumbled, “You’re fat. It’s true.”
“Can I help you Johnny?”
That shook him awake. He cleared his throat. “I...uh....saw your new profile and...uh...can I be really honest with you?”
“Sure, but you’d better come inside. My neighbors don’t need to hear the expletives you’re going to say.”
Once inside, I settled down to my big breakfast again, Johnny gaping at me and my feast. My belly swelled into a huge dome of lard, the seams of my clothes creaking. I was eighty pounds fatter than when he last laid eyes on me.
He finally found his voice. “Todd...I’m going to sound like a hypocrite, but what the hell happened to you? You’re...You’re...”
“Fat?” I smiled. “Actually, I don’t feel quite as fat as I could be. Another twenty pounds should fix that. Bring me to a hundred pound total gain.”
“A...A hundred pounds? Todd! You’ve let yourself go!”
“To be honest, Johnny, I think I’ve finally embraced what I’ve always wanted to be. Fat. I made Jason gain because I was too afraid to do it myself. I lived vicariously through his belly. He got fat for me. And I mean that literally. His belly was my belly, and I always wanted it bigger. I forced it on him. But now...” I patted my substantial gut. “...I’ve got one of my own.”
“So you fattened up because of Jason?”
“Well...kinda. At first. I gorged because I was lonely and empty inside. I missed him. Then I started getting chubbier and chubbier. Finally, I had a breakthrough that I loved being fat and getting fatter. Food is too good to pass up. So now I’m embracing it.”
“Embrace it? Hell, you’ve married it and got knocked up. Look at that thing.”
I stood, modeling my skin-tight tank top. My gut bowed outward like a sail stuffed with air. My chest had started resting on my belly. My face was a fat man’s face. I looked bigger than Johnny.
“I love this belly, Johnny. I feel like myself again. I feel....I feel like I can be happy. Even if you don’t like it, I’m going to get very fat.” I lifted the hem of my tank top, revealing buttery soft blubber scratched with dozens of stretchmarks. “And I mean very very VERY fat. I don’t know if I have a limit.”
A sly grin worked across Johnny’s face. He reached over and grabbed my belly, almost like he was checking that it was real. “So...you’re a full-on gainer now?”
My laugh made my fat jiggle. “You know it!”
“I never thought I’d see the day. I guess the only thing we can do is make sure you’re very well-fed.” He thumped my gut.
“Damn straight! I’ve got twenty more pounds to go before the big day!”
I didn’t elaborate on what the big day was. I wanted to reach a hundred pound total gain before I went back to the mall. And the kiosk. Because I was going to get my man back.
* * *
It took another two months and tons of food to bring me to my goal. Grommr exploded into encouragement at my sudden and impressive gains. Johnny helped me put on those last few pounds. I think he finally worked out what I wanted to do.
Man, I was fat. The definition of fat. My boss stopped calling me porky when he saw how quickly I was ballooning. He suggested all sorts of diets and gyms and who knows what. I simply smiled and helped myself to day old pastry. The people at the Mexican restaurant have gotten very used to my patronage. One of the cooks has taken delight in my growth, seeing it as positive promotion for the taste of his food. He always asks me “How fat?” I proudly tell him my new weight and measurements. Pleased, he puts a little extra food on my plates. I finally got up the nerve to tell him about my future goals. The cook grinned and said, “I make you the fattest boy in the city.”
I looked in the mirror when I hit that hundred pound mark. I loved what I saw. I looked better than the old fat Jason. Sexier even. Like the person I saw in my fateful dream. My belly was a masterpiece. I smirked when I saw a smooth crescent of fresh blubber poke out from under the hem of my XL shirt. I couldn’t wait to knock Jason off his feet. Maybe literally if he got too close to this belly.
I gorged on chocolate and peanut butter candy to steel my nerves and waddled off to the mall. The stares from strangers were arousing. I was a wall of fat. Children were afraid I would eat them. I laughed at the idea. Only Jason would really understand how much of a teddy bear I was. I rubbed the soft, blubbery sides of my belly. I was decidedly cuddlier than before.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I waddled faster than I thought possible.
Yes! There he was! My Jason! He looked like pure sex, the icon from that dream. Lean, toned, gorgeous. I was the big porker now. My heart pounded in my chest. I always knew I loved him. I couldn’t love anyone else. Not after all we shared. And he always said he still loved me.
Jason looked up, saw me. His almond eyes ballooned like my belly. They zeroed in on my glorious gains, tracing every bulge and roll like they used to trace my facial features. I turned to the side just so he could see how many feet it stuck out in front of me. I thumped it once, making my fat wobble in waves. I saw his tongue pass over his lips.
And I was on him. In front of customers, strangers, and God Almighty, I kissed the crap out of my boyfriend at the sunglasses kiosk.
* * *
“So then I realized that I loved being fat. I gained the next forty pounds on purpose.”
I patted my now full belly, full from the belly-busting chocolate and peanut butter ice cream sundae I had with Jason in the food court. He and I found a nice, quiet table by ourselves. I was really ready now. We could talk for hours.
At first, Jason suggested splitting the sundae. I put my foot down (I’m still stubborn, you know.) and said “I’m fat. I’ll eat it.”
He marveled at my size, at the soft curves and ripples of flab bulging out on my body. I felt his hand nervously caress my belly a few times. I knew he wanted to touch me again.
But not until we straightened a few things out.
“I’m ready now, Jason,” I said. “I wasn’t before. I was too scared. I didn’t want to admit that I did something to hurt you. But I did. And I’m beyond sorry.”
Jason smiled at me, tears just starting to brim against his eyelashes. “No, Todd...You did it out of love. I did it because I loved you more than I loved myself. And that was toxic. You see...” He wrung his fingers together into weird knots. “I didn’t want to get fat. But I didn’t want to lose you. I loved you so much. And I wanted to make you happy. So I got fat. Then you got even more excited, and I got huge. Bigger than I wanted. Sometimes, I wished that you’d get fat instead. You’d be a cute fatty.” His eyes looked into mine. “You are a cute fatty.”
I coughed and blushed.
Jason continued. “I knew it made you happy, but I was really starting to hate myself. I didn’t want to lose you, Todd. I thought...I thought if I lost weight, you’d leave me. I didn’t want that. And you just kept feeding me and feeding me. I couldn’t say anything to you. I was a mess.” He looked sadly at his hands. “Then I caught a glimpse of that website you’re always on. Grow-murr or something like that. I saw the things people posted. Some guys got fucking huge. I...I didn’t want that for me. I was scared. I didn’t enjoy being fat anymore. And I couldn’t stand lying to you. I...I wanted some time off...some time away from you to sort things out. I wanted to find a way to tell you that I wasn’t happy with this fantasy you wanted for me, the fantasy you adored more than anything.”
My heart crumpled when he spoke. I really did push him a little. He was only trying to make me happy. “I...I guess this whole thing could have been avoided if we were more honest with each other. You could have told me the truth, Jason. I wouldn’t hate you for it. But...I think I’m a bit grateful that you did what you did.”
Jason arched an eyebrow. “Todd...You were a mess. Sorry, baby, but you were flying off the tracks for a while.”
“Yes, at first. But later I realized that I wasn’t happy with myself either. We were living the wrong lives before. We misunderstood what we wanted. I made you fat because I was too afraid to gain myself. I forced you to accept a life that I wanted for myself. And that’s unhealthy. I think we’d be much happier as Lean Jason and Fat Todd.”
A braver hand fondled my overhang. “Yeah...I kinda like Fat Todd.”
I felt a sly smile cross my chubby face. “Fat Todd likes it too.”
“You’re...uh...You’re not...seeing anyone, are you?”
I laughed. “You think the guys in this town ever spared a second glance at this fatass?” I grabbed my blubber and jiggled it.
Jason blushed. “I know I did.”
He leaned toward me. I held him back for just one more second.
“I just want you to understand something, Jason. I’m still a gainer. This belly isn’t big enough. I’m going to get fatter and fatter and fatter. At least, another hundred pounds. You need to understand that. This is what I want for myself. I want to get outrageously fat.”
Jason continued to lean forward, his eyes bright and mischievous. “Baby, you could get as big as a house, and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful boy in the world.”
His face was mere centimeters from mine. I couldn’t wait for the foreplay so I just dove right in. I tasted chocolate and peanut butter, but I knew it came from my lips, not his. Jason moaned deep in his throat. The sound that meant he loved every second of this. And I loved the way he handled my big belly in his strong, muscled hands.
“You taste like my favorite candy,” he whispered.
“And from now on, I’ll always taste like it.”
“Mmmmmm...”
And we settled back into our long overdue kiss. And boy was it long. My tongue still tingles from it. I knew that Jason was mine again. And that together we’d help me gain to the truly enormous size I wanted to reach.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
The End
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