Growing Up

Prologue: This is my true story of the year I gained 80 pounds.

I had just graduated from High School and had went away to College. I liked having the freedom and independence and I also loved the meal plan. I have a sweet tooth, unlimited access to food and no real self control. I never had to have self control before, but I guess I was a little more active before.

I began to gain weight pretty quick. Probably between September and November I had put on my first ten pounds. Which put me at 130, to my previous 120. I'm 5'3, so quite short.  My body hid the gain pretty well. I thought a few times that maybe my legs looked a little bigger or maybe my arms less toned. I shrugged it off easily because I was busy.

It was around this time that I also got a part-time job. It wasn't glamorous, in fact it was in fast food. When I started working there I was given a pair of size four pants and a small work shirt. We were told not to snack on the job, but everyone did. Soon I was doing it too. A handful of fries and taking chicken strips. Everyone encouraged each other's gluttony. In fact many times my closest co-workers Natalie and Andrew would bring me little 'gifts' of food. As I said I have no self control. I would start the shift and declare I wasn't going to snack. Then a few hours in the temptation and boredom would lead me to drinking milkshakes and dipping fries in mayonnaise (Something I'd learned from working there.)

My work pants were soon getting tight. I'd say they were uncomfortable after the first month, but they held out. I'd noticed my weight gain by then. It was always in the back of my mind as I ate. I'd begun a few diets but those barely lasted a day. I had never had to diet before and I didn't know how to eat healthy. I was used to eating whatever I wanted. I got discouraged and in those times I would devilishly buy myself fattening goodies. There were nights I had a cheesecake for dinner.

Around December by pants were almost unbearable. I was too embarrassed to ask for another larger pair. So I'd undo them whenever I had to sit and pull my shirt down. The first twenty pounds almost all went to my ass,hips and thighs. I could feel my butt pushing the seams of my pants. Every time I bent over I hoped it wasn't going to be the time they ripped.
Having my pants so tight meant that it really cut into my growing belly. A small roll was now visible through my shirt. I could also feel the short sleeves cutting into my softened upper arms. During one of these shifts I was leaning against the counter drinking a milkshake when Janet came over. She pinched my little belly roll and made a 'tsk,tsk' sound.
"You're putting on weight,eh?" she told me. She was known for being straight forward. I stammered out a something like 'maybe' and she chuckled.
"Just be careful all this food. You'll get fat." I smiled politely and nodded. The oddest thing was I didn't feel insulted by her pointing it out. I felt almost aroused. And then I felt shame.

That night I looked at myself in the mirror. My hips had widened. My thighs looked soft and jiggled when I walked. The panties I was wearing were tight and cut into my doughy body creating little love handles. I touched my softened body. Grabbed a handful of my belly and shook it, watching the rest of it jiggle along. I thought I looked pretty, but I also felt that was wrong to think. I was confused. I ripped my pants two days later (luckily at home) and Andrew got me another pair.

This pair was a size 6. Even they were a little tight but I lied and said they fit. It was nice to work in comfort. Even if my pants now fit, my belly was now  always noticeable under my shirt. I was still pretty slim, and so I suppose people felt like it was fine to pat and pinch me. Natalie, Janet and Andrew were the top culprits. They'd always say a little warning advising me to watch out because I was getting a belly. I took their advice to heart, but I really couldn't stop eating. I'd reason this: cutting calories and exercising was hard and it was much more easy and enjoyable to eat treats. I'd wake up and eat and not stop all day until I got bored snacking in front of the t.v and went to bed.

Andrew began to show interest in me around this time. It was shortly after I had to go and get new pants. He'd asked me the reason,and I told him I'd got them caught in the washing machine (and not that my fattened ass had ripped the seat bending over). I liked Andrew too. He was handsome,funny and a great story-teller. He was also going to school like me. I admired him because he could work as a manager and get good grades. He asked me out to dinner one night while we were closing and I said yes.

The day of our date I was panicking. I had nothing to wear. All I'd been wearing were leggings and slouchy sweaters. The Christmas festivities had helped push my weight even further. I wanted to look nice. I eventually settled on jeans and a cashmere sweater. These jeans were my 'fat pair', but not anymore. I could barely get them over my chunkier calves, they squeezed my squishy thighs. I managed to button them but under my belly. Sweaters are forgiving so I had no trouble there. I could feel my belly bouncing with every step.

We went a Chinese buffet. I was happy to go, but I wished my pants were looser. Me and Andrew talked and laughed and had a lot of fun. He'd offer to fill my plate for me and I was glad otherwise I would have been embarrassed to refill my plate. Around the third time he left I discreetly unbuttoned my jeans. It felt great to have my belly push free, and I was a lot happier now that I wasn't in pain. When I mentioned my sweet tooth he made sure to make us up a big dessert plate to share (I ate most of it). I was usually embarrassed to eat too much in front of others, but Andrew made me feel at ease. He asked me where a skinny girl like me put all that food, and though I didn't feel skinny he made me feel better. I was probably up to about 160.

That became all too clear when I saw a picture of myself. It was posted on my social media after our Christmas feast. I was laying on the couch, probably digesting my over indulgence. My arms were crossed under my chest and I was smiling a pretty smile. It would have maybe been a nice picture if I wasn't so shocked. I was wearing my usual black party dress, but I filled it out completely. My hips and ass pushed out to my meaty thighs which were crossed showing an eye full of pale doughy flesh. My belly was round and sticking out. With my arms crossed I noticed just how flabby they had gotten. The most shocking though was my face. I had lost all definition. In fact it was looking quite round. From this angle even the flesh under my chin was starting to double. I hardly recognized myself. Of course I started a half-assed diet but gave up because it wasn't fun being on a diet and seeing Andrew.

I liked going out with Andrew and we managed to see each other outside of work a few times each week. Mostly we'd stay in and watch a movie. Of course there was always a little extra snack to go along. Maybe pizza, or cheesecake, bags of chips, boxes of cookies. I always knew I shouldn't, and he never forced me but I couldn't help myself.

One night I was wearing a short skirt, and a loose top. Luckily the the skirt had an elastic waist but still it had to be under my belly. My shirt kept riding up. I noticed that Andrew kept looking at my belly. This turned me on, him noticing what a little piggy I was. So I kept letting it ride up, sometimes I didn't even fix it. I just let the under hang of my stomach peek out of my shirt. He brushed past it a few times. When we spooned on the couch that night he rubbed my belly. He asked me if I liked when he did that, and I said yes.

So now it had become custom for Andrew to rub my belly when I finished eating. He said it was to help me digest, but I didn't care what reason it felt so nice. We'd go out to buffets and sit in a secluded spot so he could massage my stomach. I didn't know at the time there was a name for our type of relationship. I just knew I liked eating, and he liked seeing my well fed.

I'd taken to wearing my old clothes on dates with him, and he seemed to like that. They didn't fit well anymore and every new lump, bump and roll was visible. Wearing these tight clothes made me look a lot bigger. I liked him looking at my fattened figure. Touching it possessively. I also liked strangers noticing my body, even the looks of disgust. I was still wearing leggings but that's because they stretched like crazy.

Soon I had to go to Andrew for a new pair of work pants. I didn't lie this time. I couldn't close the buttons. He made me show him. Then go me a new pair of size tens. I told him eights were fine but he just chuckled. The tens did fit well, plenty of room. My shirt was still a small though. I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror, my sleeves bit into my fat upper arms. They were flabby and even jiggled if I waved. My belly was taking most of my gain at the moment. It was round and full curving out under my breasts and still held up by gravity. The full outline of which was visible under my shirt. You could even see my back rolls because I was still wearing a too small bra.

Once our boss from head office stopped by. He and Andrew spent some time chatting in the back. Our store was doing well and he left happy. That night we were in Andrew's apartment. I was sitting in between his legs in my underwear eating a bag of M&Ms.
"Do you know what Harold said today?"
"What?"
"He mentioned that you gained a lot of weight. He thought you were Natalie from behind."
I just nodded. Natalie was my friend, and she was also pretty over weight. She used to seem a lot bigger to me a few months ago though. I was slightly aroused from hearing someone mention my weight gain so publicly.
"Do you think that's true?" he asked me, running his hands down my fat hips.
"Maybe, a little?" I said shyly. Although I loved hearing it, I was still embarrassed.
Andrew began to rub his hands under the over hang of my belly. This part is so sensitive to me. I leaned into him and sighed. He kept rubbing. But also pinching and jiggling watching my pot belly bounce in his hands. I was so soft and flabby.
"Maybe we should put you on the scale to see."
"I don't know." I hesitated nervous that if he saw the number he'd break up with me because it was too high. But he went and got it and brought it down. I closed my eyes and stood on it.
"How much do you think you weight?" he asked.
"I don't know. A lot." I said hoping I was being melodramatic.
"Take a guess."
"160?"
He smiled, and pressed himself against me. "No, 185."
I gasped, and felt like crying even though I was aroused. He pressed himself into me and we were soon making love.
He loved to have me on top so he could grab my love handles and big soft hips. If he had me from behind he was always slapping and squeezing my ass or playing with my belly which bounced against my thighs.

When I got home I looked at myself in the mirror with the knowledge of just how fat I was. In front of me was a big girl. She had large creamy white thighs that touched no matter what. The pear shape of her body was even more pronounced. Wide hips, and big volleyball sized butt cheeks. It was hard to turn around and see just how big my ass was because my sides formed rolls. My belly had begun to sag down now just a little. It fell in front of my panties. I had developed quite a fupa too. I had 'lunch lady' arms. The fat folded over my elbow. My face was just as fat, but now my double chin appeared almost anytime I moved my head. Soon, it would always be visible. I had love handles at all times.

Looking closer I noticed that my big butt had cellulite dimples which extended onto my thighs. There were a few fading stretch marks on my hips, back of my knees and under my arms. It turned me on even more to see these imperfections.

I got myself off sitting on the floor looking into my full length mirror. I grabbed my belly at climax. Then I felt ashamed and confused. I liked to look at myself, see my big cute body. Watching my seductive jiggle. Seeing my fat ass crammed into too tight leggings. I pulled them up to try and keep my jelly belly in check.

The months rolled on, and I suppose my big gain began to even out. At my next yearly check-up my Doctor was shocked to announced I was up to 200. He asked me what happened, and I told him the truth, I didn't know. I sat on the crinkly paper unclothed barely contained by the little bib they gave to cover me. My stomach had begun to rest on my thighs and my sides had permanent rolls. That double chin of mine was now front and centre. I got my hair cut into a bob to highlight my rounded features (Andrew had really liked it, and said how cute it made me look.)

That Christmas no one mentioned anything about my weight. It had just gotten too high that anyone pointing it out would be embarrassed. A few people patted my belly, as if to cheer me on while I stood there snacking away. I had begun to waddle a little now. It was more pronounced in my high heels. Andrew kept filling up my plate with cookies, brownies and cake. I ate all of it greedily.

I was happy. I knew people looked at me with disdain for letting myself go. But I didn't care anymore. I was so fat I knew I could never imagine being slim again. I knew I couldn't give up all my fattening treats and laying on the couch eating until I fell asleep. I was happy.