40 for 40, Chapter 2: For The Man Who Has Everything

Chapter 2 of 15 of my new weight gain/stuck story, 40 for 40. 

CHAPTER 2: FOR THE MAN WHO HAS EVERYTHING

“What ARE we going to do for your 40th?” the question haunted Marion. Roger had thrown her a huge party, flew in friends she’d missed for years, gotten her such a thoughtful gift, baked her a delicious (if too big) cake. How could she top that?

“We don’t have to do anything. I’m good.”

What a terrible answer thought Marion. “There must be SOMETHING you want for your birthday.” 

Roger snuck up beside her, out of the kids earshot, “well you know, there’s always my birthday night.”

Marion rolled her eyes, sex was a give-in. Ever since their first kid, sex had been regulated to birthdays, holidays and vacations, basically whenever they could send the kids away for a sleepover. 

The question followed Marion into the shower. Marion and Roger had met on Roger’s birthday when he turned 30. Turning 40 was both a milestone and a milestone anniversary for them. 

As Marion washed herself she thought about all the acceptance that she had to do with the weight she’d gained in the 10 years since meeting Roger. Of course it wasn’t all Roger, three kids would change anyone’s body, but she was getting fatter under Roger’s bad influence way before they had kids, and his baking definitely added more weight during pregnancy than she would have gained otherwise, and she was utterly convinced that she could have lost all the baby weight had she simply murdered Roger after their first baby was born, an odd fantasy she’d played out in her mind whenever she couldn’t button another pair of jeans.

Marion stepped out of the shower and wiped the steam from the mirror. 

She took an honest appraisal of her reflection in the mirror. Her fatness kept her looking young, with a soft face. She looked younger than her thinner friends despite however many gray hairs she found.

Her height helped her, giving her more surface area to hide her extra pounds. When facing forward, she almost passed for socially acceptably curvy as opposed to just fat. She wasn’t a coveted hourglass, but proportional if very round at the middle. Her love handles flared out from either side in a way that could almost pass for wide hips depending on the cut of the dress. Her belly hung forward like an apron, just covering her pussy. It was when she turned to the side that her fatness was more apparent. Her belly stuck out dramatically further than her breasts. She couldn’t blame people who mistook her for pregnant. 

Marion knew that Roger preferred fat women when she met him. It wasn’t a secret, he’d said as much in his dating profile. She was even a bit insulted by the fact that he liked her. If he liked fat women and he liked her, that must mean she was a fat woman. Maybe he merely saw her potential to be fat. Gaining almost 100 pounds in the 10 years they’d known each other, he wasn’t wrong.

Despite the ease in which Marion gained weight, she resisted Roger’s fetishizing. She accepted compliments and affection, and enjoyed Roger’s cooking but wouldn’t let Roger feed her. She allowed him to weigh her during the pregnancies but otherwise kept her weight a secret from him. She allowed him to measure her once when there was a dress she really wanted from a custom online boutique and she instantly regretted how giddy and horny it made him. The weirdest thing she’d ever done was allowed Roger to keep one of her old pair of jeans from when they first met, for a few years he would ask her to try to squeeze into them as a kind of foreplay, but she’d stopped playing the game when she could no longer get them past her thighs.

She had to admit though, looking at herself in the mirror, nearly 100 pounds later, that this was probably the happiest she’d ever been in her life. A kind, generous weirdo husband, 3 perfect kids, a great job, a house, she probably wouldn’t have all that if she’d spent the last 10 years trying to stay thin. Even if she’d spent the last 10 years trying, thinness was probably never in the cards for her genetically. Roundness ran in the women of the family. Her memories of being thinner were also tainted by anxiety and depression. The correlation between her weight and her state of mind almost convinced her they were related. 

“Happy birthday Roger, I got fat for you,” she said the thought out loud, amusing herself. She almost never used the f word. It wasn’t really true though, she didn’t get fat for Roger, she just got fat while she happened to be with Roger, who also happened to enjoy it.

What would it be like to actually get fat on purpose though? She’d never let Roger feed her, or even know her weight outside of pregnancy. 

A plan was forming. A birthday plan.