Recognizing extraordinary achievements in obesity!
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It’s October 1st so fat thoughts naturally turn to the overconsumption of Halloween candy at month’s end. Here’s a little short story to get you prepared …
Halloween Ritual
“What is this, our tenth year?”
It took me a few seconds to answer my wife as my mouth was stuffed full of bite-sized Mr. Goodbars. “Yeah, ten years sounds about right honey.”
“Hmm,” she leered, “looks like someone has just about polished off an entire bag of Halloween candy” and gave my big belly a playful slap, sending it wobbling and rippling like crazy. “You’re just insatiable aren’t you Fat Boy, but don’t worry, I’ve got a bag of bite-size Snickers you can start on until our guests arrive.”
Just then our doorbell rung and she ran to the door to greet another batch of young trick or treaters … “don’t be give’n ’em all the good stuff I like,” I mumbled, mouth again full of chocolate and peanut goodness. “Don’t worry Chubs, I bought plenty extra for my blubbery hubby!”
I loved it when she said stuff like that! We met back in college when I was but a slightly chubby 160 pound sophomore and she a little 98 pound sprite of a junior who’d already established her reputation campus-wide as a chubby chaser. I was 195 pounds by the time she graduated and we planned to wed after my graduation the next year, provided I met her condition of eating myself to 225 pounds by then (though 250 would’ve been more her preference).
By the Fall of my senior year I’d only reached 202 pounds and that’s when our annual Halloween ritual began. She’d moved into an off-campus apartment and invited three other couples who were college friends to come over at 10 with any leftover Halloween candy they might have on hand, with the plan being to see how many calories her fat fiancé could consume!
Our friends loved the idea as they’d teased me incessantly over the years about how f**king fat I’d become and anytime we got together nagged me to “eat more for Mabel (my fiancé and now wife of nine years).”
That first Halloween set the standard for the annual ritual to follow with Mabel ordering me to wear a too tight shirt from my 160 pound days with lots of belly peaking out and ordering everyone not to clean up the candy wrappers that surrounded me on the couch, “so Two-Ton Timmy” (me) can see what a gluttonous pig he is!”
Anyone who dared take more than a couple of pieces of candy for themselves got an icy stare from Mabel and a stinging rebuke, “leave those for Tubby — he needs to pork up 225 before our honeymoon!” Our male friends would guffaw with laughter while our female friends politely stifled giggles over Mabel’s inflated plans for me, but the girls’ politeness abated when my appetite began to flag after about an hour of endless candy consumption.
As she saw my enthusiasm wane, Mabel snapped her fingers and one girl kneeled before me and the other two sat on either side of me, proffering candy to my lips and goading me to consume even more. “You can do it Fatty!” “Make Mabel proud of her Big Boy!” “This big belly can handle so much more!” “Keep going Tubby!” They were merciless, but I had fun and it was a definite turn on having three feeders and a wife who admitted later that she creamed her panties watching her friends stuff me so full.
By the end of my ordeal all three of them were grabbing handfuls of my belly fat and applying vigorous belly rubs and slaps as Mabel continued to look on approvingly and their boyfriends appeared to be getting hard-ons as their girlfriends said how much fun it was to play with all my extra belly fat!
So now, here we are ten years later and Mabel’s once merely chubby boyfriend is now a 440-pound behemoth of a husband. And the couples who joined us for our inaugural “Halloween Stuffing of the Pig” are now all happily married themselves and Mabel, as petite as ever, has become an inspiration and mentor to the wives, who over the years have learned her secrets for fattening up a man to obscene proportions!
Of course, I’m still the fattest of ‘em all, mainly because I had a head start … or at least I think I’m still in the lead. “Massive Mikey,” the last I saw him at a Labor Day cookout, seemed to be catching up fast, proudly telling me he’d just crested 380 pounds and that he (or rather his wife) had me in their sights!
We’ll find out soon enough, of course, as Mabel has my 750-pound capacity bariatric scale all set up in the living room ready to weigh the four “Hefty Hubbies” as the wives collectively now collectively refer to us.
Suddenly there’s an urgent ringing of our doorbell, meaning it’s 10 pm and time to commence our annual ritual of gluttony. Totally bare bellied, taking up almost all of a brand new extra-sturdy loveseat (replacing one I’d recently reduced to splinters), and surrounded by almost two full bags worth of candy wrappers, it’s just too damn much effort to heave myself to my feet, so Mabel hustles to the door to welcome our old friends!
She lets out a shriek and exclaims “you boys are f**king blimps!” And I see for myself as Massive Mikey, Bob the Blob, and Jumbo Jimmy waddle through what suddenly seems a very narrow opening, Mabel admiringly pats each on their massive protuberances and exclaims to the delight of their wives, “you boys may finally have caught up to the old Lard Lad here!”
Mikey, lips smeared with chocolate, admits “yeah Mabes, all of us made a pact after the Labor Day cookout, where Two Ton Timmy here smoked all of us, to out-eat him between then and Halloween!”
“Take your shirt off Mikey and show ‘em,” his wife Donna says with pride, “he’s packed on almost forty pounds in less than two months!” Mabel arched her eyebrows at the news, then pointed to Bob, who declares “32 pounds”, and then Jim who says “got all you fatties beat … 44 pounds!”
“OK you Hungry Hippos, you know the drill,” Mabel orders like a Marine drill sergeant, “line up at the scale and let’s see if you can beat my Timmy here — just look at that magnificent mountain of lard, fill in’ up our new loveseat, and already two bags of candy in — he’s gonna be hard for even you Tubsters to beat!”
Deciding to accept the challenge belly on, I rise from the loveseat, candy wrappers scattering before me, and the other wives gasp as they see how far down my belly apron reaches toward my knee caps, with maybe only an inch or two of clearance. “Don’t anyone declare victory just yet — Mabel is still the Feedress Queen!”
Beaming with wifely pride, she kisses me and wobbles my apron, just to show off her culinary handiwork to our friends. “Oh, thank you baby — I’m so proud of my piggie, the undisputed Feedee King — I love it that you just can’t stop eating!”
“You know I do it for you Honey.”
THE END UNTIL NEXT HALLOWEEN
Subcutaneous or Visceral, all fat is good fat.
Sunday morning (well, any morning really) is such a great time to sleep in when you’re a person of size … particularly if your significant other feeds you breakfast in bed!
Nine years apart, same approximate weight (a little under 250 pounds), same Tommy Bahama 2X swim trunks, but after gaining and losing 70 pounds in between the apron is hanging a lot lower and the stretch marks are a lot angrier!
Isn’t it fun to use your surplus of fat to put on a little show for everyone?
It’s State Fair season around the US so take your favorite person of size to the Fair and fill ‘em up with love and their favorite unhealthy State Fair foods!
Big Belly Energy: Exuding self-confidence and exercising leadership while completely filling up his office loveseat — he’s a true role model.
Does it ever surprise you to see a pic of yourself and realize how much space you take up … and doesn’t it turn you on n a bit too seeing just how enormous you have become?
The best of Urban Dictionary:
gucci belly
A well fed man. A man who has a large belly because he's got paper (i.e., money).
It’s officially Fall now, so who’s up for a friendly game of coed touch football next weekend?
Pics run through a Prisma filter from my personal belly archive, documenting downs and ups in my weight from 2014 (245 pounds) to 2022 (over 310 pounds).
What 700 pounds looks like …
Familiar with the terms “big dick energy” and/or “big titty energy”? If not, Google or look them up in Urban Dictionary … it all comes down to radiating personal energy that naturally draws people to you and gives off the impression that you really have your life together. I bring this up because I fervently believe that BIG BELLY ENERGY is a thing too and that us people of size need to project it more. So walk into your office or classroom or wherever on Monday morning with an easy and relaxed air of self confidence, knowing that your mere presence commands the room … say hi and flash a smile to that cute he, she, or they you’re interested in, dazzle them all with your presentation, wow them with brilliant questions and witty observations, and if there is food out don’t shy away from grabbing more than your share — in other words, exude your big belly energy!
At the bakery counter: What’ll you have this morning Big Man? You: (patting your belly) I’m trying to cut back so three of your giant eclairs and a 20 ounce Coke … oh, and throw in a half dozen glazed donuts for my mid-morning snack, thanks! Them: Are you on a diet or something?
A physique to aspire to …
Squeezably soft and sumptuously sexy
The seat holder in front of you at the stadium: “Pardon me sir, but since it’s already draped over my seat back, would you mind if I use your belly as a head rest?”
I know coveting another person’s things is a sin but when I see pics like this I develop a severe case of double belly envy …
It’s kind of a rush when people just need to lay hands on your massive belly!
From my personal belly archive, circa 2016 and around 265 pounds …
What an amazing feeling when your lover sneaks up from behind and lovingly caresses your rolls, folds, and jiggly parts …
In praise of bodacious bums, divine derrières, big fat fannies — whatever you wanna call ‘em, they make life so much more rewarding!