Nate + Diane

That weekend wasn’t the end of it: Diane and Nate agreed to keep seeing each other, though without specifically committing to boyfriend/girlfriend, nor exclusivity/monogamy.

He spent the following week after their first weekend cleaning up his apartment, in the process realizing how poorly set up he was for hosting a SSBBW of his dreams. Fortunately for him, Diane remained in BBW range, and clearances and furniture were plenty good enough and sturdy enough for her and would be for quite some time… if they remained an item… if she continued to fatten.

The weekend was about as blissful and definitely as drama-free as their first, albeit a bit more cramped in his smaller living space. That didn’t truly come into play, since the point of the exercise was being as close together as possible as much as possible.

She was suitably impressed and a wee bit afraid when he demonstrated his mad computer/Internet skills—especially how he could guess several of her account passwords without her having told him nor shown him anything. He’d taken her grocery shopping Friday evening to ensure there’d be enough food and the sort she liked to eat readily available.

“Are you sure this scale’s correct?” she asked at the end of the weekend.

“Its absolute accuracy is in question, but its repeatability accuracy ought to be within a pound or two. Why?”

“This thing’s showing me as 10 pounds heavier since Friday night! I don’t think that’s possible.”

“From what I’ve read it’s not sustainable and maybe even half of it or more could be temporary food and liquid weight, but you sure feel more succulently wonderful!” he said as he fondled her fat belly. “Would you consider staying overnight tonight?”

“Yes! I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Their third weekend proved equally spectacular.

By the time their 4th. weekend together rolled around, it looked like they might be ready to commit to something longer term. Then, things started to go wrong: no big drama, but little then not-so-little signs that they could remain sometimes-lovers, but ought not to commit to living together full time, nor even every weekend.

Again over at his place, she grew annoyed at how he’d leave his clothes and sometimes trash lying around, waiting until some future time when he passed through the room to pick them up and put them where they belonged. This behavior offended her sense of neatness.

Nate being an inexperienced FA, she wound up saddled with the blame for things which he’d soon learn would be problems for most women he desired: blowing through rolls of toilet paper to properly wipe big, beautiful bottoms, and the monetary and shopping reality of keeping lots of food available (he’d been aware of the concept but the reality exceeded his expectations), to name two. Others were specific to her: her high-pitched nervous giggle when she hadn’t eaten for awhile and started to get wound up, getting a bit clingy and impatient when he wanted some online alone time.

Needless to say, neither Diane nor Nate attended this month’s Get-Together. Double D Deb got into a fight with Nora early in the evening, over Nora’s “boyfriend” teases. Each of them got competitive in terms of seeing how many men they could convince to possibly go home with them that night. Nora scored 3, Deb zero, on account of her pissed-off personality being more of a negative than her physical pulchritude was a positive.

She never found out how Nora planned to handle her three men—she left before the final hour, dropping by BevMo for a large bottle of tequila which, along with some delectable lady porn, was her date for the night.

It was Nate & Diane’s 5th. weekend together which proved to be the closer. They’d not gotten around to discussing issues from week 4, in part due to not being aware enough of them in their own minds to bring them up. Sunday morning, something suddenly came up which changed everything.

“I think we should go to church today” Diane said, during their waking cuddle/kissing.

Nate thought it was a joke. “So we can confess our sins?” he chuckled.

Her disapproving expression alerted them both to a fascinating getting-to-know-each-other oversight: somehow they’d never gotten around to discussing their belief systems.

“Sorry. I… didn’t know. I’m an atheist, so I’ve not been to church in ever, nor do I have plans to attend. I’ll be happy to go with you and sit in the car or something.” He hoped that his attempt at compromise would work.

“Oh… right… yeah” she sighed. “I only go about once a month, and it’s Unitarian, so basically the loosest possible Christian denomination. Truly they welcome everyone—even non-confrontive atheists. It’s about a loving God, not a judgmental one looking for sin at every turn—He’d never let me into heaven!”

“You don’t think this is heaven and hell all together, right here on earth? I think it’s all we’ll ever know, and we make it heaven, hell, or something else, depending how we all behave and treat each other.”

“See, that’s spiritual! Please, Nate…? Once a month? Maybe once every 6 weeks? And then we can go out in our nice clothes to an all-you-can-eat buffet and talk and share whilst we—especially i—enjoy the cornucopia of food!”

They were both trying to make it work, yet Nate especially sensed that they ought not to try too hard, and ought to move on. And now his sense of caring and respect for her insisted he had to figure out how to do so in a minimally hurtful way—hardly his strong suit!

He acquiesced and went to church with her, for probably the 2nd. time ever in any church for anything other than a wedding or funeral. It wasn’t bad like that long-ago Catholic youth service he’d attended, but it also wasn’t him, nor something he’d want to do with any regularity.

Diane was all lit-up happy at the all-you-can-eat Mongolian barbecue, introducing him to some of her church-going friends as her hopefully-boyfriend-in-negotiations. Nate liked these friends of hers just fine, but not so much the church-related context.

Luckily none of her friends sat near them nor stayed long, as her and Nate’s conversation grew intense at points, as he brought up other areas essential to compatibility, leading her to think to inquire into a few of her own. Though she didn’t have any pets now, she wanted one or more in the future: a bird or cat or two, but not both! He liked the occasional marijuana munch—usually cookies—but she was afraid of the stuff, in any form.

The one transitory potential upside—and he wasn’t sure it truly was—was that they stayed at the restaurant for hours and she ate a lot, mostly to squelch her anxiety and nerves. He felt like a complete shit—and he almost certainly was exactly that, in this instance—but he really wanted to experience the effects of this meal before saying goodbye. The saving grace for him was that in truth he needed an extra week to figure out how to let her down gently and hopefully part as friends. The worst possible outcome would be for her to lose all the self-confidence she’d gained—hers which she’d earned, perhaps motivated by him but hers, wholly apart from him.

Diane could already feel him pulling away when they got home (her place this week). It wasn’t strong, and he was trying to still love her, but her well-honed rejection sensor knew he was no longer all-in on their coupledom, or whatever their IIR was at this time. What set things apart from her past was that she was no longer frantic—she’d genuinely grown emotionally, and for the first time she could remember, was able to take it with graceful resignation.

They slept together overnight into Monday morning, and agreed to meet again the following weekend. He requested it be again at her place—another clear sign to her that things were winding down.

Things were awkward from the time he arrived Friday night: each of them felt tearful and clingy, though neither came remotely close to old Desperate Diane’s histrionics.

Amazingly, she took preemptive action: “Nate… i know things aren’t right between us. We each knew that last weekend. What i really want—no, need—from you is at least this one last weekend together—a fun weekend together!—if it has to be our last, and i don’t want to talk about that now. Let’s please push that conversation out to no earlier than 2 PM Sunday.”

“How did you know?!”

“I know. I can sense rejection as well as ever.”

“You’re handling it much better!”

“Thank you. Now come here and tell me that all cuddled up, the way we’re supposed to be… until we can’t.”

He said it again and they kissed each other as though eating each other up for the last time. Passions grew.

“Nate… i have never been fatter than i am right now. I’ve been eating a lot all week, worrying about us. It happened—let’s make the most of it. D’you think you can show me—or we can figure out together—how to have wild fatsex all over the house?”

For the moment, the joy returned. They did indeed figure out all sorts of positions in which to fuck and other fun things to do with each other’s bodies, all over her house: kitchen, bathroom, laundry room, and the rest. Floors, counters, atop major appliances, and elsewhere. She enjoyed more orgasms in a short span than at any point in her life, and he felt pretty sure he was getting the hang of men’s multiples as he held back just barely, over and over. The holding back and staying hard edging was so exquisite, it was almost anti-climactic when he fully released a couple of hours later, as they each found themselves exhausted and ready for cuddly romantic slumber.

Bad dreams and waking emotional ups and downs abounded as each of them came to terms with what they knew was happening, each individually struggling to figure out a way to make things work.

Nate insisted that they do whatever it was she wanted to do all day Saturday, which was mostly sex, cuddling, kissing, and napping. Only normal meals and not much feeding, as she hungered more for as much physical contact as possible than for food.

Sunday she turned the tables, insisting they do what he wanted, up until 2 PM. He surprised her by choosing to share some of his favorite music and stories of his life, and asking to hear hers, all whilst cuddling and making out, with occasional actual screwing.

Two PM arrived… it was time. The conversation was much briefer and more forthright than Nate had expected.

“I am so impressed with how much you’ve grown emotionally in such a short period, Diane” he declared in the middle of the discussion. “Stay the course, and no one in their right mind is going to be able to call you ‘Desperate Diane’ any longer.”

She nuzzled into his side, responding, “Thank you. I did not realize when i was doing it for you, Nate, that it could possibly have a life after you. But i’m getting the sense that it does.”

“It does” he assured her, “without question.”

“So… too many incompatibilities for the long run?”

“Yeah. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah” she cast her gaze downward, filled with profound sadness. “There’s still enough Desperate Diane in me that i’d consider changing at least some of them for you. But i don’t think i can change enough of them, much less all.”

“That was my conclusion, regarding me. If they were changes I felt comfortable making, I’d work on them, the way you’ve done so successfully with your anxiety and unnecessary desperation. They’re not like that for me; I like who I am.”

“So… this is it, huh?”

He nodded, momentarily too choked up to speak.

“Can we be anything to each other, going forward? Hopefully beyond friends?”

“Depends. I’m polyamorous, at least in theory. If other people we’re with are down with that and we’re all on the same page with STIs and other contagions, or if you and/or I are not with another lover, I’d still like to get together with you once in awhile… for sex and love.”

“I want that. Goodbye forever is still too much for me. Goodbye for awhile, give it a break, see you sometime for a little while i think i can handle. Kiss on it?”

They kissed into eternity, reluctantly letting go of what they’d hoped could have been, as so many millions of lovers before them had done. The kiss—kisses, literally—seemed to go on about as long as the prior discussion.

All kissed out, Nate got up first, guided her up, then walked with her hand-in-hand to her front door.

“Until next time, my friend and lover!” he said with a forced smile.

“Until then. Bye Nate.”

He felt glad to be walking home, given that he was crying hard enough that he wouldn’t have been able to drive safely. He knew it was the best thing for them both, but it was still hard to give up a mostly-great romantic bond.

He remained messed up for the rest of the night, but came around Monday morning, focusing on the future and other possible love interests.

Not long after he left, she cried her eyes out to a sad chick flick, demolishing an entire 5 gallon tub of premium chocolate caramel swirl ice cream in the process. She too knew that it was long-term for the best, though short-term it really left her hanging, as unlike him, she didn’t have any other ready long-term options lined up. Extreme moodiness came and went over the ensuing days—the whole first half of the work week—yet using all the tools she’d learned for coping and stabilizing her emotions, she held it together and came out stronger on the other side. The saddest irony to her was that she also came out even fatter on the other side, and there was no one there besides herself to enjoy it. She decided she’d better start learning how to better enjoy her fatter body on her own, for herself.