HOME | DD

Description
The landscape inside the bedroom left Becky speechless. Stacked against the TV stand were neatly broken down cardboard boxes marked “Assorted Flavors”. Beside the bed sat a tiny hotel-sized trashcan piled so high with wrappers and fast food bags it spilled onto the floor. The majority of the wrappers were clear wrappers – wrappers that once contained Indy’s new snack cakes. How many actually made it into client hands? Not many (if any at all) by the looks of the room. Dozens had spilled to the floor, dozens were still in the trash and dozens were lazily strewn about the bed. On the nightstand sat an empty box marked Krispy Kreme, on top of it, a bag marked Shipley Donuts, and beside that an empty two liter bottle of Coke.
On the bed, lying in a nest of clear wrappers that he hadn’t decided what to do with yet, was Max, semi-propped up with all the pillows in the suite, bleary-eyed. His eyes were slowly forced open, from a deep food induced coma, by the sound of his lover’s voice. His face flushed upon realizing he wasn’t dreaming. Becky really was standing in the doorway.
Brushing stray crumbs from his white t-shirt, he tried to sit up, but his gut was so stuffed and jutted out so high and round, it was unmanageable at the moment.
Becky was already sliding next to him on the bed by then, mouth agape, and she rested a reassuring hand on the top of his massive bubble of a belly. The image of a soap bubble ready to pop as she had once envisioned before came back to her. Only now, his sides were bulging, too . . . or was it those little rolls that had formed on top of his love handles turning into thick slabs? The initial flare of anger she felt quickly subsided and her heart softened. She gave his shirt a little tug to try to cover the excess fat. Realizing it wasn’t going to reach, she let it be and rubbed the exposed flesh instead.
“Oh Max, what happened?” Becky made an attempt at adjusting his white boxers like she usually did, but found them too tight and the waistband stretched too far to make any difference. “Are you okay? You’re so . . . big. You look like you packed on . . . twenty-five pounds in the last three and a half weeks. You’ve really gotten fat – you’ve ballooned!”
“Sorry Beck.” Max said sheepishly. “I know this looks bad. It just . . . went badly. One thing led to another. I just ate . . . and ate. It helped lift my mood, a little. Then today I went to Duey’s . . . and ate . . . until the button broke on my pants. Then I came back here.”
“And ordered pizza?” Becky asked. “I mean pizzas. There are two boxes out there on the counter.”
“Oh.” Max replied. “I’d forgotten about those.”
“Forgotten about them?” Becky said. “They’re still hot.”
“They are?” Max said. “Better eat them, I guess.”
“Max, you’re going to pop. Are you sure?” Becky said and ran both hands over his belly, pushing his t-shirt all the way up to his soft pecks.
“That’s so nice the way you do that.” Max sighed. “Your hands feel so good.”
“I bet they do.” Becky smiled sweetly; an understanding smile. “Your tummy is hard. I can’t even imagine what all you must have eaten or how much food it takes to pack this big thing this full.”
“A ton.” Max smiled weakly. “Can’t even remember it all.”
“I’m not surprised.” Becky said softly. “You’ve gotten so fat you have stretch marks. You didn’t have those before you left. But, you want to eat those pizzas, huh?”
He knew he shouldn’t, but the saliva that flooded his mouth practically made him beg for it. Now, he had to have them. He thought quickly. “You wouldn’t want them to go to waste would you? Maybe you can help me finish them. Your Momma wouldn’t like it if they were wasted.”
“Oh, yeah – I mean no, she wouldn’t.” Becky sat up straighter. If there was one thing her mother didn’t like it was wasting food. How many times did she or her grandmother lecture her and her sisters about cleaning their plates? “No, we can’t waste them, that’s for sure.”
Max began to struggled again, hefting his bulk. Feeling his weight shift under her hands made her feel warm in places that a person trying to abstain shouldn’t feel warm.
“No, hun.” Becky patted his belly. “You stay here. I’ll get it. You just relax. I know it’s been a really stressful trip. I’ll rub your tummy and you gobble up as much delicious pizza as you can, okay?” There was something about the way she used the word ‘gobble’ that caused a reaction in him that she didn’t miss. She was going to have to visit that word more often. “Let me take care of you.”
“You’d do that for me?” Max said. “I’m off my diet. I keep getting fatter no matter how much you ride me about my weight, but you’d still – not only let me eat as much as I want, but rub my belly while I do it?”
“Of course.” Becky said. “That’s what a good girlfriend does for her man. Just imagine how good I’d be if I were your wife. I’d feed you and rub your tummy no matter how fat you got.”
Max smiled, then his smile faded. “Sorry, Beck. I couldn’t stick to my diet. Are you disappointed?”
“Max, you look like a big fat marshmallow.” Becky replied. “No, I’m not disappointed. Not at all. I love you. Besides, it looks good on you. Your extra pounds are . . . nice.”
“Really?” Max smiled and Becky nodded before going to the kitchen for the pizza.
“Did you know you have Chinese food out here.” Becky called.
“Oh, I forgot about that, too.” Max said.
“It’s still warm.” Becky said. “They must have come about the same time.”
“Food stupor.” Max said. “After I ate at Duey’s, I was craving Chinese food, so I ordered some. Then after it got here, I thought I was more in the mood for pizza. By the time the pizza arrived, I was finishing off my last box of snack cakes and this bottle of Coke to stay awake. But I couldn’t. I must have dozed off.”
“I don’t know how you’re going to eat all this.” Becky said.
“I’m too full, Beck.” Max said. “Maybe I shouldn’t eat any more. Look at me. Don’t I look like I’m ready to pop?”
“Too bad, Max.” Becky said poking his belly as she slowly pronounced each word. “Don’t waste food. Only take what you’re gonna eat. It’s hard to believe, by the size of your gut, but I think your eyes were too big for your stomach. But you’re still gonna eat it all.”
“Now am I going to do that?” Max asked. “I forgot all about the Chinese food.”
“Poor baby.” Becky fake pouted. “I know your fat tummy is full and I’ll rub it while you eat. I also know that Max is one hungry little hog when he wants to be. So I’m gonna rub your tummy while you gobble up the pizza. If you can’t eat all the Chinese food, I’ll feed it to you.”
Max felt his loins stir from the way she teased him and her change in attitude about his weight.
“Come on, Max.” Becky held the first slice of pizza to his lips. “Gobble it up little hog.”
“That’s so good.” Max moaned.
“See?” Becky smiled. “Suddenly, you’re hungry all over again aren’t you? Look at you go! Get your fill. I’m gonna have to roll you home you’ll be so big. Grow that fat belly for me, love. So big and round. Mmmm.”
Handling all that pizza became too much for Becky and soon her stomach was growling, not that she wasn’t hungry before, only now her hunger was more than just a need to quell the hunger pangs. After feeding him the first three, she couldn’t resist and matched him slice for slice. One slice and she was kicking off her heels. The second and she hung her suit jacket over the chair next to Max’s. Three slices and they were taking turns chugging another two liter of Coke to quench their salty thirst. Four slices and she was unbuttoning her skirt. Five slices and her glasses were sitting on the nightstand and her blouse was unbuttoned down to her cleavage. After six slices and then sharing the one left over, her blouse was hanging open and through it poked her bloated porcelain mound with rolls thick enough to bury her thong and sit in her lap. Her head rested on Max’s soft stomach while his tender hands massaged her engorged middle. In her fuzzyheaded fullness she moaned in pleasure at feeling her lovers hands glide across her expanding middle.
“Are you full, sweet pea?” Max said softly. “Or do you want to gobble up the Chinese food?”
“I wanna gobble it up but I’m too stuffed to move.” Becky whined. “Feed it to me Max. I can’t help it . . . I want to eat more. Feed me all of it, please Max.”

Max’s eyes popped open upon feeling two lips pressed against his. He jerked awake with a start to find Becky smiling above his face and the room filled with the early Texas sun. The trash previously strewn about the bedroom had been removed, the only thing left on the nightstand was Becky’s glasses.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Becky beamed. “You gonna sleep all day?”
“I feel like I could.” Max groaned. “Ugh, I feel like an overfed hog with gravy in his veins.”
Becky laughed. “Well, I can’t argue with the first part. You ate like an overfed hog last night. I have a surprise for you if you ever get up and get ready.”
“What’s the surprise?” Max asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Well, get up and find out, hun.” Becky said. “I called for room service. I figured you’d be hungry. I told them what all I thought you’d wanna eat, they said there ain’t that much food in Houston.”
“Funny.” Max smiled wryly.
Becky giggled at her own humor and took his hands to help him get his mass off the bed. He grunted and shifted and heaved, trying to stand, until he got to his feet. The way he moved made it apparent he’d gained weight so fast he wasn’t used to handling it.
“Come on. Get up and shave your scruffy face and shower and stuff – good grief you’re getting fat, Max!” Becky said once she had his mass on his feet and got a good look at how big he looked standing, then swatted his butt as he waddled past her. “Look at you jiggle, Jello-boy. I guess we know where all those dessert cakes went!”
Looking him up and down, she mouthed “wow” as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Willie Winslow sat in his van in the parking lot of the Crown with a kolache in his hand and a napkin on his lap. In the passenger seat, beside a paper bag filled with more kolaches, his camera was in video mode and awaiting use.
Strategically placed in the shade of few trees, with just enough cover to obscure onlookers, he kept his eyes on the lobby to watch for Max and Becky as they left for the day, or left for good.
It wasn’t long until the sausage inside the kolache gave his middle-aged stomach indigestion. His face was making sour expressions with each acidic burp his thumping fist tried to draw from his unhappy gullet.
“Damn Texas food.” Willie grumbled. “I love it but it doesn’t love me. Should sell Rolaids at the counter at those kolache shops.”
Checking his watch, he debated whether to take a walk to the nearest convenience store for some heartburn relief or some coffee, or maybe both. It was getting close to noon and approaching checkout time. He thought, considering Max had been here for three weeks, they’d be heading home soon. For that he was thankful. Jenna wasn’t going to like the bill he racked up for spending three weeks on the road.
He was about to go when Max and Becky followed a bellhop pushing a cart filled with their luggage toward their car. For a moment, he thought Max looked right at him . . . again. Shortly after arriving, he’d gotten his hairstyle changed, and used that Salt & Pepper Just for Men hair dye, so he was sure he looked different enough from all those other times he thought Max looked at him.
They’d have to be followed and now he was kicking himself for not finding Rolaids. Fumbling with his camera, he dropped half of an egg and cheese kolache. It bounced off his shirt, missed his napkin and splattered on the floor. Right at the wrong moment.
“Dammit!” Willie growled and tried to focus his camera. Trouble was, the cart was always in his way, either that or the bellhop. He filmed anyway and at least they were together, she with her hands on his belly like she was rubbing a Buddha for luck. Once the bellhop began pushing the cart a little too fast for the growing couple to keep up, he got some nice shots of the two holding hands and he was fairly certain that came out clear in the video. Was Jenna going to be happy with that? Not after spending as much as she had already on this project. If he tried to submit that alone, she might renege and try to get off without paying.
Max tipped the bellhop and wobbled to the driver’s side and opened the door for Becky, and then stole a kiss before closing the door.
“Yes!” Willie cheered. Not too loudly and that was definitely caught on video. All he had to do now was get some background information to finish building the case. Their car crept out onto the street and he was sure they were on their way home. “Time to pack up and head home, too. Just a quick stop at the desk and I’m outta here.”
He quickstepped to the convenience store and grabbed some Tums, then huffed and puffed his way back to the hotel. Those extra pounds were really wearing on him. One of those quick diets from the TV commercials would have him back on track in no time. Stamping out his cigarette, he strolled into the lobby of the hotel.
“Can I help you, sir?” The girl asked.
“Did I just see my friends check out?” Willie put on an air of nervousness on purpose. Sometimes being a PI called for a bit of acting, no matter how bad. “Max Wells and Becky . . . I thought I saw them drive off.”
“Yes, they did.” The girl said.
“Both of them at the same time?” Willie asked.
“Yes.” The girl said. “They were in the same room.”
“Oh really?” Willie winked. “I had a feeling about those two. It’s just that they said I could follow them.”
“Follow them to Galveston?” The girl asked. “Just go out Capital Street and go south on Gulf Freeway.”
“Oh.” Willie said and held his surprise at finding out they weren’t going to Indianapolis. Being a PI for so many years, he learned to keep a straight face when finding out new and unexpected information and playing it off as normal.
“Didn’t the travel agency give you directions for the cruise?” The girl asked. “That’s all Miss Frost talked about was surprising Mr. Wells with a cruise vacation. But I guess if you know, then he knows, right?”
“Oh, uh, no he doesn’t.” Willie thought quick on the fly. He snapped his fingers like an idea just came to mind, which it did. “I bet that’s why they left without me, she was keeping it a secret. Thanks for your help, gotta pack so I can catch up!”

Becky hummed happily, like a kid on Christmas morning, while they drove from their hotel near downtown to the Galleria. The surprise she had in mind called for a couple new outfits for both of them, since nothing he had fit anymore, he need all new clothing. For her, something for the beach; tropical skirts, shorts and blouses. Something for formal dinners, like dressy gowns and strapless things. Also, something for lounging around, like pj’s in a bigger size, maybe a sarong and a big hat to protect her from the sun. She noticed a slip of paper in the visor.
“What’s this, Max?” Becky asked.
“Oh, uh . . . got a ticket.” Max mumbled.
“For what?” Becky sighed.
“I might have been going a little fast.” Max replied.
“It says 50 in a 35 zone.” Becky said. “Geez.”
“Why don’t they go after criminals?” Max groaned. “You know? Like people breaking the law or something.”
“They did.” Becky said. “Caught a big fat one too.”
“You know what I mean.” Max scowled.
“How many points do you have on your license now?” Becky asked.
“I don’t know . . . 27?” Max said.
“You’d be in jail if you had that many points.” Becky sighed. “You’re gonna lose your license. I don’t know why--.”
“Okay, Beck, okay.” Max threw up his hands. “I’ll be more careful, okay? You’re driving now, so everything is good.”
“I’m sorry, hun.” Becky rubbed his knee. “I really am a nag ain’t I?”
“Oh, noooooo, not at all.” Max waved his hands in a dramatic fashion. “Not at all, Beck. What else is there about me you’d like to fix?”
“Shut up.” Becky laughed and playfully punched his mushy shoulder. “I said I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do it. I’m just trying to take care of you, ya know?”
“I know, Beck.” Max smiled.
“I’m doing okay though, aren’t I, Max?” Becky’s eyes were pleading. “I act as your secretary, I take care of non-work related stuff, too, like appointments for the doctor and dentist and stuff. I pick out your clothing, do your laundry, dry cleaning . . . cook for you when I can.”
“I know, Beck, I know you do.” Max patted her hand as it rested on his leg. “I love that about you.”
“Your weight, though, Max.” Becky moved her hand from his leg to his belly. He looked like he wanted to respond, but held his tongue. “You’re just so big, hun. I feel like it’s my fault you’ve gotten so fat.”
“Your fault?” Max looked perplexed.
“Yeah.” Becky said. “I should be cooking for you more often. I’d do it every night if I could. I also think if you were happier with me you would turn to food for comfort. Am I right?”
“Well, not exactly.” Max said. “I’ve always loved to eat, you know that. I do tend to overdo it a lot, and you’ve tried for years to warn me, but I never tried to cut back at all. I knew the pounds were creeping up on me . . . then all of a sudden my weight took off. Can’t seem to stop it and I can’t seem to cut back. Now I’m ballooning, like you said. Just ballooning.”
“It’s okay, hun, it’s okay.” Beck rubbed his belly. “You didn’t used to eat so much fast food. I think if we just get you off that . . .”
“I’ve taken a liking to it, to be honest.” Max said. “But you’re right, I gotta stop two-fisting the triple meat burgers from Whataburger. Probably shouldn’t do the buffet as much. Also, abstaining is killing me. I can’t get fulfilled in bed with you I look for it in the refrigerator. We have to talk about that. I know we don’t always abstain, but . . . it’s been a while and . . .”
“Don’t worry, hun.” Becky said. “We’ll talk about it. And, I want to cook for you once we’re back home, okay?”
“You do?” Max said.
“Yeah.” Becky nodded. “I want to take better care of you. Don’t worry, you’ll still eat well. I’ll keep your belly full. We just gotta fill you up with healthy food and I promise no more alfalfa sprouts.”
“Deal.” Max smiled.
“So if you have cravings, get them out of your system, because you’re gonna eat better when we get home.” Becky said. “Oh, look there it is.”
“The Galleria?” Max said. “You didn’t need GPS for that I go there all the time.”
“Oh.” Becky shrugged. “Well, in we go. Gotta get you dressed up with things that actually fit. Right, hun?”

Max patiently endured the trial of shopping with a girlfriend, complimenting her beauty and taking every opportunity to embrace her softening curves, always noting how much softer and fuller she felt. Last night’s memory of her belly swollen too big for her skirt and its subtle jiggle as she rubbed it to quell the discomfort, kept coming to mind. Stuffed into a pregnant looking ball, she kept begging for more and more, to which he happily obliged.
Now he watched her, always smitten by her sweet smile, as she tried on larger and larger sizes. She didn’t mention her weight or how much she’d gained, but wasn’t averse to showing it off either, or showing it off without meaning to, such as struggling to zip a skirt, or button her shorts, or resting her hand on her still bloated pooch of thick creamy flesh.
“Wow, I look just like Leigh!” Becky said, turning left and then right to examine her plump figure and new rolls in her reflection. “I think I need a bigger bra. Don’t you think I’m starting to look like Leigh?”
“Well, I’ve never seen her in a bra and panties, but considering you all look alike, I’d have to say yes.” Max smiled.
“You know what I mean, Max.” Becky twisted her torso to face him, the corners of her mouth curled in a wry grin. Then she turned all the way around and pointed to her butt in the mirror. “Look at the size of that badonkadonk.”
“Mmhmm.” Max nodded, he knew he was being coy, besides is pants were too tight already, he tried to hide the stiffening with the strategic placement of Becky’s purchases, but she’d already seen it and was much better at hiding her smile, even in front of the mirror.
“Okay, love, no more torture.” Becky smiled. “I’ll get the flowery blouse and a new bra and that’s it. Then we’ll get you some clothes and go.”
“Thank God.” Max sighed and Becky laughed. “Getting hungry, too. Do you want to eat before we go?”
“Oh, sure, hun.” Becky nodded as she held up the flowery blouse against her chest to check the look one last time. “I’d love to eat something. Pick something yummy.”
“I know just the place.” Max mused. “It’s only one street over . . . on Richmond.”
“Uh oh . . . you have that look in your eye, Max.” Becky smiled. “Better get you to the tubby man store first . . . then find you a man-sized bib for my little piggy boyfriend.”

Becky giggled as they strolled across the mall. She kept her arms tightly twined around Max’s elbow, with a half dozen shopping bags hanging from the crook of her elbow. As smitten as Max was with her smile, she was just as smitten with his wit and he entertained her with it as they walked. She had just rested her head on his shoulder when he stopped walking.
“Oh, is this the place?” Becky looked up at the ‘Houston Big & Tall’ sign. “You must come here a lot, you walked right up to it.”
Max smiled. “I’ve had to come here a time or two.”
“Do they know you by name?” Becky teased.
“Not that often.” Max hesitated for a moment. “Uh, well . . .”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Wells.” Said a thick young woman with a long red ponytail dressed in a smart looking business suit. She looked his belly over and nodded. “Back again?”
Becky’s eyes narrowed as she looked up to meet his eyes, her arms still wrapped around his meaty bicep. “Don’t come here that often, huh?”
Max shrugged.
“And you must be Becky.” The girl extended her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh?” Beck said, her eyebrows arched in surprise and reached to shake the girl’s hand.
“He certainly didn’t exaggerate your beauty.” The girl said. I’m Katrina, the manager.
They both looked to Max to see him quietly shrug and grin, shamefaced, but amused.
“Well, Max, it’s nice to see you again.” Katrina said looking him over front and back. “Your pants look a little tight, did you need them let out?”
“I think we need new pants for him.” Becky said. “A few outfits, really.”
“He looks like he put on some weight since last time.” Katrina felt his belly as though she were testing the firmness of an oversized melon. “Probably twenty to thirty pounds or so . . . I think.”
“Or so.” Becky grinned. “He’s a growing boy.”
“He sure is.” Katrina held his belly with both hands. “I didn’t think it was that long since you were in. September wasn’t it?”
“Uh, I think so.” Max said.
“I see your belt is on the last notch.” Katrina said. “Again.”
“Max likes to overeat.” Becky chuckled. “Don’t you, hun?”
Max blushed. He knew she said that just to get the result she did. To make it worse, she was gently pinching the fat on his side just to show she got him to blush, he took it all in stride, although she suspected he might hold her down and tickle her feet later. With his weight, she’d never get him off.
“Just like my husband.” Katrina smiled. “We’ve been married for five years. I think he packs on about fifty pounds a year.”
“I think Max is packing on more pounds than that and we’re not even married yet.” Becky said.
“Wow!” Katrina said. “He must eat pretty good then. Well, then no, I wouldn’t let these pants out. He’ll need new ones. Did you have anything in particular in mind?”
Becky took Katrina by the arm and pulled her aside so Max couldn’t hear. She wanted to keep the coming cruise a secret until they parked the rental near the dock. Their figures stood side by side in a nearby mirror and she could see the redhead was smaller in stature, but she would have known even if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, because Max never ogled her like he usually does thicker women. With a smile, she explained what she needed.
“I’m taking Max on a cruise.” Becky said. “A long cruise. We’ll be lounging a lot. Mostly lounging, in fact. Some beach time. A lot of browsing in local markets. Um . . . think tropical vacation . . . for a very chubby man.”
“Gotcha.” Katrina said.
“So . . . your husband is a big guy?” Becky asked.
Katrina nodded. “He’s huge.”
“Wow, huge?” Becky’s eyes widened. “Like, how huge?”
“He’s over six feet tall, well over 400 pounds.” Katrina winked. “Well over.”
“Wow!” Becky said and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
Katrina laughed. “It’s okay. He loves my Southern cooking. What can I say?”
“Yeah, Max loves mine, too.” Becky said. “We just had a little talk about it. I’m kinda afraid for him because he’ll end up that heavy and he’s only 5’9.”
“I saw you gushing all the way from Lane Bryant.” Katrina said. “I don’t believe you’d be too unhappy if that happened.”
“Can I ask you something?” Becky said. “How did you feel when your husband first started putting on weight?” Becky asked, lowering her voice.
“To be honest, I was mad.” Katrina said.
“You were?” Becky glanced over at Max who was looking through the ties.
“Yep.” Katrina nodded. “I thought, ‘oh that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?’ We get married and he porks out. He seemed to be happy with my cooking and always asked for more and I was flattered by that. So . . . I just kept feeding him bigger and bigger meals. After a while I started getting more upset if he happened to lose weight.”
“Really?” Becky turned her head towards Max again.
“Yeah.” Katrina smiled. “Now, I make sure that doesn’t happen anymore. You know what the best part is? He’s so focused on his own weight, he hasn’t even noticed I put on sixty pounds since the wedding.”
“Wow.” Becky said. “That must be why he hasn’t said anything about my weight.”
“Probably.” Katrina said. “Let’s start with these outfits here.” She put six or seven shirts and pants over her arm. “I’m guessing there’s going to be a lot of eating, too. I have one more thing you might be interested in.”

Max stood smiling inside the fitting room wearing a new suit, minus the jacket, with loose fitting pants and a new belt that was more of an accessory than a utility. Something else was holding up his pants. Becky couldn’t help but kiss his plump cheek and double chin.
“See? I told you he’d prefer suspenders.” Katrina said. “Much more . . . chunky friendly. Also, notice his waist.”
“His waist?” Becky was confused. “It’s really big.”
“Feel it.” Katrina said.
Becky did and smiled. “It’s elastic . . . but it doesn’t look like elastic.”
“Exactly!” Katrina clapped. “My husband loves these. So, um, how big do you think Max is going to get?”
“Are you kidding?” Becky snorted. “You got no idea how much he loves to eat. He couldn’t stop being a hog if he tried.”
Max cleared his throat uncomfortably, but the two beauties ignored him.
“Just like my husband.” Katrina poked Max’s belly. “Well, the good news is, these are a little big, so he’ll still be able to wear these – even if he packs on another, say . . . 30 or 40 pounds.”
“Great!” Becky said. “Let’s get five or six pair and then we’re going to lunch to test them out. Right, Max?”

Heading south on I-45 was taking much longer than she’d anticipated. Construction around Beltway 8 had traffic inching forward and had been for a long time. Without the need to keep her eyes on the road, she let them roam over Max’s sleeping form. They first met nine years ago and secretly dated for the past eight. Six of those years he’d been thin. Then one day she noticed a few pounds collecting around his waist. Then a few more and then a few more. Now in what seemed like no time at all he nearly doubled his weight.
People who hadn’t seen him in a while no longer recognized him. She wondered how many of his own relatives wouldn’t recognize him. They spent more time with her relatives and most of those had to look twice to figure out who he was. And what had changed to cause such a dramatic change? The simple fact that this metabolism could no longer keep up with his voracious appetite. Max had always been an enthusiastic eater. How many times had she warned him that one day being a hog would catch up with him?
Even knowing one day he’d develop a spare tire, she never anticipated how he blew up like a balloon right before her very eyes. The thought was making her warm and tingly in places she knew a person shouldn’t be warm and tingly over a lover getting fat. Everything about society said being overweight is bad; bad for health, wasn’t supposed to be attractive, let alone sexy or desirable.
Yet, here she was looking at his chubby cheeks and second chin bigger than his first and considering him more handsome than ever. His arms had gotten so pudgy they made his short sleeves tight and his belly had gotten so big it made his new XXXL golf shirt tight around the waist and his legs were large enough to be the envy of an offensive lineman . . . and she found him sexier than ever.
Stranger still, she knew he felt the same way about her and the stigma about a man admiring a fat woman was much worse than a woman’s preference for a heavy man. Max couldn’t keep his hands off of her and she knew he noticed the weight she’d gained, whether he said anything or not. The way he touched her, the way his eyes devoured her left no doubt. A honk of a horn from behind brought her back to reality. A gap had opened between their rental and the car in front of them, much to the chagrin of those waiting behind. Meanwhile, she’d been daydreaming, biting her lip and twirling her hair, flustered and aroused. She pulled forward to placate the driver behind them, not that the twenty feet between her and the next car mattered.
Thinking of her weight reminded her just how much she’d eaten at the restaurant. Max knew his food! They had Italian. She was so full she popped the button on her skirt the moment she noticed Max sleeping. As she was starting he jerked awake.
“I’m sorry, was I snoring?” Max slurred.
Becky shook her head. “I think you were dreaming of gumdrops.”
“Gumdrops?” Max rubbed the grogginess from his eyes.
Becky poked his side. “To fill your belly, like a bowl full of jelly.”
"I don't think that's how the story goes." Max looked down and rubbed his fat hand over his belly as though he just realized he’d gained weight. He squeezed it with both hands and made an attempt to lean forward, but gave up, knowing his lap was thoroughly buried under a spare tire that had inflated into an inner tube suitable for a tractor. “That big meal put me right out didn’t it? Didn’t plan to eat that much.”
“Really, big boy?” Becky snorted. “How much more did you plan on eating?”
“Funny.” Max shifted his bulk around to release a few belches at quietly as he could. She may have been joking, but if the portions would have been bigger, he surely would have eaten more as his plate was cleaned by using his garlic bread to mop up all the leftover sauce.
“Your tummy is getting close to my side of the car there, chubs.” Becky patted a love handle that spilled past his seatbelt buckle and inched over the center compartment. Finding it irresistible, she wrapped her hands around as much of his blubber as she could and gave it a little pinch. “Look at all this. Your cheeks shake when I play with your belly.”
“I know, I can feel it.” Max looked to Becky with sad eyes. “I’ve really gotten fat haven’t I?”
Becky tried to make him feel better with loving and comforting eyes. Her hand glided over as much of his belly as she could reach. Without knowing what exactly to say her heart broke a little bit as his shoulders fell.
“Sorry, Beck. I really didn’t mean to get so fat.” Max said. “It’s just . . . a few pounds here and a few pounds there . . . then I started --.”
“Hey, hun, it’s okay.” Becky patted his knee, her voice was soft and soothing. “It’s okay.”
“Yeah, but . . . you’re not embarrassed by me are you?” Max tugged on the bottom of his shirt to correct how it had ridden up while he dozed. “Embarrassed over having such a big boyfriend . . . or having a boyfriend who’s gotten so big.”
“No way!” Becky said. “Are you kidding, hun? I love you and I’d never be embarrassed by your weight. No matter how big you get. Don’t worry about that. Now, do I get embarrassed about you ogling other women? Yes. Do I get embarrassed when you’re using ‘guy talk’ with Paige and Sabrina’s husband about women? Yes. Do I get embarrassed when--.”
“Okay, Beck.” Max sighed.
“Sorry.” Becky frowned. “No, I’m not embarrassed by your big tummy. Get as fat as you want.”
“So . . . you still haven’t told me what we’re doing.” Max let her last comment pass even though he felt himself flush over it. Get as fat as he wanted? She’d need a U-Haul to cart him around if she kept talking like that. Stuffed or not, that comment made him want to stuff himself again.
“You saw the clothing.” Becky couldn’t help but poke his belly now that he was awake and thought that might cheer him up. Giving his belly plenty of love always brought a smile back to his face. “Where do you think we’re going, tubby?”
“Somewhere hot.” Max said. “We’re headed toward Galveston, but somehow I don’t think that’s our final stop.”
Becky smiled. “We’re cruising the Caribbean for two weeks!”
“Whoa!” Max beamed. “We better get you some industrial strength sunblock, Casper.”
“Shut up!” She laughed. “Isn’t it awesome though? Oh no!”
“What?” Max looked around to see what caused her distress and couldn’t find a source.
“Do you have your passport?” Becky asked.
“Oh . . . sure.” Max said. “It’s always in my bag just in case I have to flee the country.”
“Funny man.” Becky said. “Trying to get away, huh? I got news for ya, tubby. You’re way too fat to run at all, let alone outrun me. I bet you’d move those chubby legs for the dinner bell though, wouldn’t ya?”
“Mean.” Max grinned.
“Just teasing, love.” Becky poked his belly again and watched the waves it caused. “Actually, I don’t know if you need a passport or not. But it’s good that we have them.”
“Which ports?” Max asked and the way he started fiddling around his chest, he was getting a little heartburn after eating all that rich food.
She scanned ahead looking to see what the next exit offered. “Okay, get ready for this. Cozumel . . . The Cayman Islands, oh Max I can’t wait to see your big chubby belly wobble around Grand Cayman!” Becky shook his belly to watch him jiggle and then clapped her hands, her smile stretched ear to ear. “Okay, so there’s also Montego, Nassau, Puerto Rico, remember how we always talked about going to Puerto Rico? Now we’re going! Then the last stop is Key West and then it’s back to Galveston!”
“Holy crap!” Max said. “This must cost a fortune.”
“Of course it does!” Becky snorted. “And afterwards we’ll have enough time to spend a week in New Orleans and still make it back for Thanksgiving with my family.”
“Wow.” Max said and fiddled around his chest again tapping it with his closed fist as if he were looking for a belch. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand. “I really needed this, Beck. You’re the best.”
“You’re so sweet, hun.” Becky said, her face aglow. “How’s your tummy, hun? Need a Coke?”
“Oh, I think I’m okay.” Max said. “Don’t we have to get to Galveston?”
“We have time.” Becky said. “I’ll pull off and get you a liter. I could use some chocolate anyway. Like a bag of Kisses . . . or a bag of Twizzlers . . . or both. Maybe some M&Ms, too.”

So much for being in a hurry. Willie pulled his van onto the Gulf Freeway and headed south as quickly as he could. Traffic seemed fine for about ten minutes, but then hit a wall of brake lights and it all came to a halt.
“Hate frickin’ traffic.” He mumbled and stuck another cigarette in his mouth, then fished his cellphone from his pocket. “Hey Connie, how are ya sweetie?”
“Willie?” She didn’t exactly sound excited to hear from him. “What’s up?”
“Weeeell . . . I need a favor.” He winced just saying it and then winced again at the grumbling on the other end of the line.
“I knew you were going to say that.” Connie groaned. “You’re going to get me fired one of these days, or sued.”
“Last time, I promise.” For a moment he even convinced himself.
“What is it?” Connie asked.
“I need information about some Galveston cruises.” Willie said. “Specifically, which ones my paycheck is on and how much it’s going to cost to get onboard.”
“You got to be kidding.” Connie said. “What name am I looking for?”
“Try Rebecca Frost.” Willie said. “I think they’re leaving today.”
“Nope.” Connie said.
“Maxwell Wells?” Willie said.
“There’s a Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell and Rebecca Wells.” Connie said.
“Really?” Willie shouted. “They got married?”
“Not necessarily.” Connie said. “They may have signed up as a couple for a discount or something. Or maybe they’re planning on getting hitched on the trip. It doesn’t look like they bought a wedding package though. That doesn’t mean they’re not getting married at a port, it just means if they are they made all the arrangements on their own.”
“Hmm.” Willie rubbed his chin. “Very interesting. I’ll have my brother look to see if they already have a marriage license. Say, Connie is the food free on this cruise?”
“Mostly.” Connie said. “Unless it’s a separate restaurant or something. The buffets are free and the dining area is free. You still have to tip your servers, Willie. Don’t be cheap like you usually are.”
“I’m not cheap am I?” Willie asked.
“Yes.” Connie said. “Are you kidding? Of course you are.”
“Can you book me or not?” Willie groaned.
“Sure.” She sighed. “What kind of cabin do you want?”
“Uh, hmm . . . just put me as close to their cabin as you can, okay?” Willie said.
“Okay.” Connie said. “It’s not far from the dining area, so be careful with the free buffets, Willie. You were looking a little pudgy last time I saw you. Better watch it. Somebody your age will blimp out in no time on a cruise.”
“Yeah yeah.” Willie hung up and looked down at his gut. “If you only knew how quick somebody my age blimps out.”

Golden rays of a waning sun cast the two lovers dressed in white in lambent bronze as they nestled on the deck. A stiff but pleasant breeze tossed Becky’s dark curls around her face while she rested her head on Max’s soft chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist as far as she could reach and settled her hands where his love handles stretched to the small of his back.
“Mmm . . . isn’t this romantic?” Becky hugged him tighter. “You feel so comfortable I think I could sleep standing up.”
“I’ll hold you up.” Max said softly.
Becky giggled and looked up to meet his eyes. Her fingers playfully squeezed his mushy arm. There was some strength there, probably not more than when he was average build. Maybe he could hold her up, but she knew if he could, he wouldn’t be able to do it for long given the weight she’d gained. He used to be able to carry her around. A memory of Max scooping her up and tossing her into the pool came to mind. Could he still do that?
“Is this what life is going to be like when our portfolios, uh,” Becky’s eyes looked up to the clouds to find the right word, “mature?”
Max grinned at the wrong word, but he knew what she meant. “Maybe.”
“Okay.” Becky bit her bottom lip. “I could live like this.”
“Jet setting, cruises, beaches . . . maybe some celebrity friends?” Max said.
Becky frowned. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“Huh?” Max’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I thought you wanted that stuff. Vegas? Monaco? Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous?”
With her arms still wrapped around his torso, she shrugged and wrinkled her nose to adjust her glasses. “Priorities change, hun. Those things sounded nice when I was 25. I don’t know, sometimes I think I’d rather just buy the old McAllister farm and be a mom.”
The McAllister farm wasn’t far from her parents’ farm and Max wasn’t sure how he felt about living that close to her family. Not so much for her parents and sisters, but for her extended family who were all orbiting in the same general area. A lot of them didn’t have jobs but plenty of time to hang out. He winced but didn’t say anything. Before his imagination could speed to worst case scenarios, her sigh brought him back on deck.
“Besides, do celebrities even have fat friends?” Becky scrunched up her face again, this time had nothing to do with her glasses, although they still slid down her nose.
“Umm.” Max thought for a moment and chuckled making not only his own body jiggle, but also Becky’s since she held him so tight and that made her chuckle too. “They must have some . . . I guess.”
“I like how big and round your tummy gets when it’s stuffed.” Becky giggled and squished him tighter. “I felt my cheek jiggle when you laughed. Big. Big belly. You got some junk in the trunk, too.” She gave his butt a good pinch.
“Becky!” Max wasn’t ready for that.
“What?” Becky grinned. “I guess neither one of us are exactly lacking--.”
“Winter?” Asked a shrill voice. “Is that you?”
Startled and mouth agape, Becky cocked her head and brushed the black curls from her face. She blinked a few times before reality sunk in. “Aunt Ruth?”
Aunt Ruth stood and stared for a moment looking her niece over from head to toe, over and over again. When her eyes settled on all the thicker and softer parts, her look of astonishment shifted to one more of a disbelieving disgust.
“It is you.” Ruth scowled. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Becky broke away from Max and crossed her arms across her chest. Why did relatives always have to ruin things? Her father’s sister was always a waif, even now in her mid-fifties she was a graying old shrew who rarely smiled. Worse, Becky knew exactly what she meant and she pulled her white top tighter around her as if that might hide something.
Looking her up and down again, Ruth waved a wrinkled hand at her niece’s bulk. “I mean this. You’re . . . fat. You must weigh twice what you did last time I saw you.”
Some combination of anger and humiliation turned Becky’s complexion all shades of red. She stuttered, searching for something to say, something scathing against her aunt, and something that might justify all the weight she’d gained, but mostly something that would put the old bat in her place . . . until finally, her shoulders slumped in defeat. What could she say that wouldn’t be disrespectful and have it come back to haunt her at every family reunion until she died? It wasn’t like she could throw her overboard either. Becky was at a loss.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?” Ruth also had a flair for the dramatic and she turned up the exasperation for effect. “I assume he’s your boyfriend. I haven’t heard about any weddings involving my brother’s youngest.”
“You already know Max.” Thoroughly cowed, Becky’s voice was small and weak, even knowing what was coming next. With her shoulders slumped, she was too embarrassed to peal her eyes off the deck. No matter how hard she fought it, her eyes began to well.
“This,” Ruth pointed, “is Max?” Her sneer became even more condescending and disgusted, looking him up and down in disbelief.
“Yes.” Becky swallowed her words and cleared her throat. Her voice became shaky. “This is Max.”
“You don’t remember me?” Max feigned having his feelings hurt with a smile on his face to try to change the mood of the conversation. He might have been an expert at defusing situations as a salesman, but Ruth was no ordinary sale, she rolled her eyes.
“Oh I remember you.” Ruth looked him up and down, but mostly at his stomach. “But you were only half as big.” She poked the lower roll of his belly where it wasn’t quite the love handle, and shook her head. “Stuffed like a turkey. Just like her mother fattened up my brother, she’s doing it to you. He used to be as thin as you used to be, now look at him. Take my advice Maximilian, get away from that family before you’re as big as a house.”
“It’s Maxwell.” Max said. “We’re both very happy and I think Becky is beaut--.”
“Maxwell, then, whatever.” Ruth said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Yes, I’m sure you’re both happy and I’m sure you find her lovely. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It was nice to see you both. Perhaps we can meet for dinner since we’re both on the same ship.”
Becky gave a shy smile and nodded. Whether Aunt Ruth was serious about meeting for dinner or not, and they both knew she wasn’t, they were going to be sure to make their best effort to avoid the old crank in order to have a good time.
Max guided Becky back into his arms and kissed her forehead. “You okay, Beck?”
She shrugged and then reluctantly nodded.
“Why’s she always so miserable?” Max asked. “And mean.”
Becky shrugged again.
“You okay, sweet pea?” Max asked again.
Becky rested her head on his chest where it was before. “I think I’ll be okay. I need chocolate. Let’s find something to eat.”