The One Where Monica and Rachel Gain Weight (Friends Fanfic)

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The One Where Monica and Rachel Gain Weight (Friends Fanfic)

Postby Jared86 » Thu Nov 27, 2014 3:35 pm

The One Where Monica and Rachel Gain Weight ('Friends' Fanfiction, WG)

Chapter One:

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Rachel asked as she walked in.

“I’ve been baking,” Monica replied.

“I can see that, but why so much? Preparing to deliver a ransom to the Cookie Monster?”

“Ah, it was just this stupid thing with Phoebe...long story short, bunch of cookies I didn’t need to make,” Monica replied.

“Are they...are they any good?”

“You know? Some of them aren’t half bad.”

“Well, after the day I’ve had with Joey, I think I deserve a cookie,” Rachel said, taking a seat and reaching for the nearest one.

“Wait!” Monica shouted. “Don’t eat that one! It’s from batch number 16!”

“Woah, okay, okay. Maybe you should tell me that long story,” said Rachel.

“Alright - at first Phoebe thought the amazing recipe for her grandmother’s cookies was lost forever, so I was trying to recreate it via trial and error. Then, she told me her grandmother got it from someone named ‘Nestle Tollhouse,” Monica explained. “Turns out the stupid thing was on the back of this bag of chocolate chips this whole time!”

“So, which batch is that?” Rachel asked.

“What do you mean?” Monica asked. “None of them.”

“So you did all that work just to find the recipe, and then after you found it, you just left it there?” Rachel asked. “As a chef, doesn’t that bother you?”

“Well...kinda. But I mean, when I was trying to find the recipe, I thought they were something really special.”

“Well, you’ve had the cookies before, and you said they were amazing, right?” Rachel asked.

“Oh yeah,” Monica agreed. “Totally.”

“And you’re a chef, you just said so yourself, right?”


“Then if you liked them, they must have been really special, right?”

“I...I guess so,” Monica said. “I wasn’t really looking at it that way, to be honest.”

“Well, we’re looking at it that way now! Why don’t you whip us up a batch?”

“Okay!” Monica said, and quickly got to work.

Before the cookies were even out of the oven, both women could tell that they were going to be fantastic. The aroma was so mouthwatering that they kept their eyes trained on the timer until it beeped.

“I thought that would take forever!” Rachel complained as Monica pulled out the tray. She grabbed a spatula and immediately took one of the cookies.

“Wait!” Monica shouted. “You have to wait for them to cool!”

But it was too late, Rachel had already taken a bit. Her eyes bulged and lit up as she bit into the piping hot confection. She groaned with pain, opened the refrigerator door, and pulled out a carton of milk. She pulled it open the top and took a vigorous chug, and excess milk dribbling down her mouth and cheeks.

“You know, you could have just spat it up in the sink instead of drinking milk from the carton,” Monica said, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t have been offended or anything.”

“And waste precious cookie? No thank you,” she said. “You have to try a bite, they are delicious!”

“When they cool down, when they cool down,” replied Monica. “I don’t have another carton of milk to chug, and now that one’s all yours.”

A few minutes later, Monica allowed herself a tiny, tentative bite. It was amazing. Monica had taken a similarly small bite a couple of days ago, when she had part of the last cookie from Phoebe's old batch. That bite had been all about discerning the contents of the cookie, a task to be undertaken dispassionately.

These cookies, on the other hand, were all about fun. No need to have small bites. No need to try to analyze what was in them. Monica raised the cookie to her lips, and took a much larger bite, as big as would fit in her mouth. Her cheeks bulged as she chewed.


Hours later, Monica and Rachel were slouched over on the couch, their distended, overstuffed bellies beginning to peak out of their shirts.

“I can’t believe we ate the entire batch in just one sitting,” Rachel moaned.

“I have no idea why we decided to finish off the rest of the trial and error cookies too!” Monica added. “What were we thinking?”

“I guess those cookies really are something special,” said Rachel. “When are you going to make more?”

“Ha! Try never! Remember, you’re looking at someone who used to be as big as a house. I can’t fall off the wagon like this again. I’m getting married in a few months. Can you imagine what I’d look like walking down the aisle if I ate like this every day from now until then?”

Monica and Rachel both burst into gales of giggles at the thought.

Chapter Two:

“Why is it that every few weeks, I come by, and you’ve turned your apartment into some kind of dessert experiment?” Rachel asked. “What is this stuff? And why was there such a big crowd of people outside the door earlier?”

“Oh, homemade chocolate candy. I was trying to get the know the neighbors. But soon they were just demanding more candy all the time. No good deed goes unpunished, right?”

“Was it really that good?” Rachel asked.

“Hey, I’m a chef. Of course it was that good. This time it was my recipe, not the back of the chocolate chip bag,” boasted Monica. “Want to try some?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel hedged. “Maybe I’d better not.”

“Come on, just one piece. It won’t kill you,” said Monica. “I mean, unless you choked on it or something. But what are the odds of that, right?”

“Not doing a good job selling me on this, Mon,” Rachel said.

“Just eat the candy,” Monica insisted, grabbing a piece and shoving it into Rachel’s mouth.

“Wow, Okay - this is really good. Yeah, I see what all the fuss was about,” said Rachel, taking another from the silver bowl.

“Why’d I have to force you to eat it?” Monica asked. “What’s going on there?”

“Oh, I just...well, it’s nothing.”

“No, come on, come on. Spill,” Monica said, in between downing several chocolates herself.

“It’s just...I’m having a little romance at work, trying to keep up my figure,” Rachel said.

“Oh, that’s right. Tag, huh?” Monica said. “The little kid?”

“He’s 24, not a little kid,” Rachel snapped.

“I’m not judging you for robbing the cradle,” Monica said with a giggle.

“I just want to keep his attention,” Rachel said as she wolfed down another chocolate. “I know I have to compete with young, skinny college girls for his attention. And I already put on some weight thanks to that cookie binge.” Rachel’s waistline had grown a couple of inches wider, with just a hint of love handles, while her thigh gap and shrunk and her butt was making a larger than usual indentation in her skirt.

“Oh, I hear you,” Monica said. “I’ve already gained 15 pounds, and I’m like, freaking out over here,” she said, licking the chocolate from her stirring spoon. Monica’s bra size had gone up by two inches around and nearly a whole cup size, causing her favorite “lucky bra” to strain at the seams. Her arms and shoulders looked a tad puffier too, while her hips had spread out slightly.

“Ok, let’s make a pact. We’ll diet together, until we’re back to the weight we started,” Rachel proposed.

“Deal,” Monica said, her eyes still on the chocolate.

“We’ll start it right now.”

“Right,” Monica agreed.

“Right after we finish up this chocolate,” said Rachel.

“Oh yeah,” said Monica, and they began scarfing it down even faster than before. When they were done, they felt even more bloated and miserable than they had felt when they ate the cookies.

Chapter Three:

Rachel held fast to her vow of dieting...for a couple of weeks, anyway. Whenever she’d walked into Monica’s apartment, she’d made a vow to herself. No matter what tasty thing Monica was about to eat, she’d skip it.

Her resolve was tested when she walked in and found not Monica, but instead Chandler, staring at a big cardboard box. Inside was a cheesecake, accidentally left at their front door by mistake.

Rachel’s resolve began to waver. It looked delicious. But, she reminded herself, she had made a vow. Whatever Monica was about to eat...

But wait a minute, she thought - Monica wasn’t about to it, Chandler was. Monica would never even know! She was safe, and she dug in with relish.

Over the next few days, more cheesecakes were delivered by mistake, and none of them were returned to their rightful owner. It wasn’t cheating, she rationalized, because Monica wasn’t there. And it wasn’t stealing because it was just an honest mix up.

On the fourth day, Rachel opened the door and found...nothing. No cheesecake box!

“Is it here?” Rachel said, as she burst in the door to Monica’s place.

“Is what here?” Monica asked.

“The...” Rachel began, but then shrugged her shoulders. “Uh...nothing, nevermind. Is Chandler here?”

“Nope, he went out to the store,” said Monica, who was hunched over on the couch. “Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, no, no, no, it’s nothing,” Rachel said as she tried to come up with an excuse. “He and I were just going to...check to make sure some deliveries arrived, that’s all.”

“Nope, nothing,” Monica said. “Really, nothing arrived.”

“Oh, darn,” Rachel said. She was about to turn and go when she realized that curiously, Monica was still on the couch.

“Monica...can you get up for me?”

“Of course I can.” Monica said, but remained seated.

“Come over here!” Rachel insisted. She heard the telltale sign of cardboard sliding against fabric for a moment, and she rushed towards the sofa. “Aha! I knew it!” she shouted, pointing towards the big, white cheesecake box. “I can’t believe it! Chandler was going to keep this one a secret?”

“No, don’t blame him, blame me. He was going to hide it somewhere, presumably to share with you later. But I caught him with it and one thing led to another...”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I got here?” Rachel said. “Don’t tell you aren’t going to share it.”

“Of course you can have some. I just didn’t want you to know I had, you know, fallen off the wagon.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you!” Rachel said. “I knew it would kill your diet. These things are so good that I was eating one off the floor of the hallway yesterday!”

“Why did you eat it off the floor?” Monica asked.

“It’s...a long story,” replied Rachel.

“Well, I’m listening,” said Monica.

“It’s a story best told over cheesecake,” said Rachel, and they dug in.


“Wow that was good,” Monica said.

“Yeah, that was totally worth blowing all my hard work over,” Rachel agreed.

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t actually lost any weight! And I’ve been good for two weeks!”

“I know, me too! What’s wrong with us?” asked Rachel.

“The big 30. Our metabolisms just aren’t as fast as they used to be,” said Monica.

“Slower I could take, but zero weight loss? How is that even possible?”

“Well, at least you didn’t gain weight,” said Monica.

“Don’t be so sure of that, I haven’t weighed myself since the cheesecakes started coming,” said Rachel. She knew that whenever she did step on the scale, it wouldn’t be kind. The elastic band of her underwear was already starting to cut into her a little more deeply, and her favorite jeans were becoming a challenge to button. “Gosh, I hope Tag doesn’t notice.”

“Well, apparently Chandler is blind,” said Monica.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked. “Wait, earlier when you said you caught him with the cheesecake and one thing led to another...”

“Yeah,” said Monica, her face getting red. “Cheesecake sex. I mean, it was so tasty, and the more we ate together, the more we started to get in the mood...”

“And he didn’t notice you’ve gotten fat?”

“Rachel! I put on 15 pounds. I have not gotten fat.”

“So, he didn’t say anything? Really?” Rachel asked.

“Actually, he seemed pretty into it. He even said my boobs looked nice!” she said, wiggling her shoulders for effect. They certainly did look bigger, Rachel had to admit. A whole cup size, at least. Her own breasts had barely budged, and Rachel felt a twinge of jealousy.

“Well that’s too bad,” Rachel said.

“Why is it too bad?” Monica asked.

“Well, if Chandler’s not going to complain, you’ve got one less motivator for you to stay on the diet.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Monica assured her. “This is my last time off of the wagon, promise.”


“Hey babe,” Tag said. “Want to order a pizza?”

“No, I’m good,” said Rachel. “I had a salad earlier, so I’m kinda full.”

“I could run out and pick up some burgers and fries, maybe a chocolate milkshake?”

Rachel paused, gritting her teeth in frustration. Why did he have to make it so difficult for her?

“Oh, all right,” Rachel said, finally giving in. While Tag was out, she cursed her own lack of willpower and promised she’d let Tag have the lion’s share of the food.

One sip of the chocolate milkshake, though, and that promise was broken. Rachel reached for the fries by the handful, and Tag just watched and grinned, not appearing to mind allowing Rachel to gobble up most of dinner.

“Somebody stop me,” she said, only half jokingly, as she reached for the last fry.

“Oh, you go ahead,” he said, and she drowned it in ketchup and swallowed it down.

Rachel glanced down at her bloated belly and then hung her head in shame. Chandler might be blind, but how could any sane boyfriend want her now, after she made such a pig of herself? Especially not a hot, young buck like Tag.

“Why do you look so sad?” Tag said, stroking the side of her face.

“Sad? I’m not sad,” Rachel said.

“That’s good to hear,” Tag said, and leaned in for a kiss. Rachel felt surprised, a little caught off guard, but it felt good to feel physical affection after such a stressful and shame filled day. “Wanna take this into the bedroom?”

“Uh...ok,” Rachel agreed. She tried to keep up the kissing until she could fumble for the light switch, figuring that Tag would have less chance of noticing in the dark.

They fumbled their way across the apartment until they reached her room, sloppily kissing all the way. As soon as they reached her room, Tag pressed Rachel up against the wall, eagerly running his hands up and down her new, softer body.

Rachel tried to go for the light switch, but it was just out of arm’s reach. She shifted her weight a little to the right. Success! The room was plunged into darkness, and Rachel was able to breathe a sigh of relief and let her guard down.

Tag began pulling at Rachel’s blouse, and before long, both of them had completely disrobed. Just as they were able to fall into bed together, Tag pulled away.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Rachel asked, worrying that he was recoiling from fondling a fold of her fat.

“I just want the lights on,” he said, confirming her worst fears. As Tag fumbled in the dark, Rachel had another idea. She quickly jumped into bed and pulled up the covers. A second later, the lights were on.

Tag grinned, and then slinked back towards the bed. With one, swift motion, he pulled down the covers, exposing Rachel’s naked form.

“Wow,” Tag said, gazing at her while Rachel cringed.

“Oh, just say it,” Rachel said, eager to get her humiliation over with.

“Your ass looks amazing,” Tag said, as he ran his forefinger of the curve of her cheek. He jumped into bed and kneaded the softer, spongier tissue with his hands. “Really fine,” he said in a low voice.

Chapter Four:

Rachel awoke from her slumber with a satisfied smile on her face. “Last night was amazing,” she murmured. When Monica had told her she’d had “cheesecake sex” with Chandler, it seemed impossible, or at the very least a fluke. She never would have guessed she’d have so much fun with Tag after pigging out like that! And it had continued to be fun, night after night, for the next three weeks.

“Well, I hope today is just as great,” Tag said. “Special day and everything.”

“Why? What are you going to do to me today?” Rachel said, her grin growing wider.

“It’s not what I’m going to do, it’s what you’re going to do,” Tag said. Rachel stared at him blankly. “It’s your birthday,” he reminded her.

“Oh, crap!” she shouted. “I completely forgot!”

There was a knock at the door. “Please say Joey needs to borrow toilet paper or something, and this isn’t birthday related,” Rachel said, throwing on a nightgown and heading to the door.

As soon as the door was opened, a chorus of Happy Birthdays erupted from thole gang, along with a loud blast from noisemakers. Rachel immediately turned and ran back into the room, and shut the door. A few moments later, the lock noisily clicked.

Her friends begged and cajoled her to come back, and in a few moments, Tag arrived at the door.

“Ms. Green would like some ground rules. No jokes. No uttering the phrase ‘over the hill.’ No mentioning that her ass might be getting big,” Tag said.

“It still looks great!” Joey insisted.

“Rachel! Monica has a special breakfast for you!” said Phoebe.

“Chocolate chip pancakes!” said Monica.

“Really?” Rachel said, and ran out the door, not bothering to put on real clothes.


Even for six hungry friends (Tag had excused himself, saying he had made plans with a friend but would make it back later in the evening), the stack of pancakes prepared by Monica was enormous. Several dozen high, it was so large it actually managed to obscure the view of anyone sitting behind it.

Rachel and Monica were seated together, near the tray of butter and the big jug of syrup, which they monopolized shamelessly. Monica, slathered her pancakes with slice after slice of butter, while Rachel poured on so much syrup that it drowned the pancakes and threatened to spill over the edge of the plate.

Chandler, Phoebe, and Ross hit their fill after two pancakes, and left the table shortly thereafter. Only Joey managed to hang in with the two voracious girls, dedicating himself to matching their huge portions as a personal challenge.

“Wow,” he said, groaning a little as he finally rose from the table. He had long since unbuttoned his pants and he was so full he couldn’t walk straight. “I can’t believe you two outdid me on this one. See you later, Rach,” he said, as he crept out the door.

“Look at the two of us,” Rachel began, “we ate so much we scared everyone away.” Monica was silent, her mouth was full of warm, chocolatey pancake. “And we broke our diet pledges again,” Rachel added.

“Well, don’t feel bad about that, today is a special day,” said Monica, after she loudly swallowed and paused to wipe a dab of butter from her chin.

“Yeah?” Rachel asked. “A special day for me to admit I’m getting old and fat! It’s disgusting!”

“I know what you mean,” Monica agreed. “If I keep this up, I’m going to be a back to my blimp self in no time. But if you want, we can try to burn some of this stuff off. We can go take a jog together.”

“Yeah,” Rachel said, “but first, let’s take a little nap, OK?”

“A nap?” Monica asked. “Don’t they say that sleeping after a big meal is the worst thing you can do?”

“I’m sure that’s just an old wives tale,” Rachel said, wobbling towards the sofa. Her nighty tie was undone and was exposing her belly, which was bloated and distended from her huge breakfast. As she walked towards the sofa and the garment flapped around, her thickened thighs and developing saddlebags were exposed as well. Protruding very tightly from the back was her big butt, which had grown large enough to affect the sway of her walk. It was undeniable that Rachel’s figure was developing into a bottom-heavy pear shape.

“Well, I am pretty tired,” Monica said, steadying herself on the table with her beefier arms as she rose to her feet to follow her friend. She paused for a moment to remove her syrup-stained sweater, which she’d worn to cover up the salacious amount of cleavage she was exposing in all of her tops. Even her new bras no longer fit quite right. Around the back and in the cups, they were strained to the limit, and her larger breasts were pressed together so tightly that she couldn’t wear any of her shirts when she was around others, at least without getting stares.

“Aren’t you going to go shopping at some point for some new tops?” Rachel asked her as she made her way to the sofa.

“I don’t need to,” Monica insisted. She glanced down at her bouncing bosoms and blushed a little. “Okay, maybe I do need to, but I’m going to start dieing and slim down again. There’s no way I’ll let myself stay this size long enough to actually get any use out of new clothes.

Monica’s breasts weren’t the only part of her that was larger, of course. Her cheeks had rounded slightly and her chin had gained a small swell of softness underneath. Her belly bulged from breakfast, and her hips were wide enough to give her a lot of trouble whenever she wanted to put any jeans on. Her body was gaining a very exaggerated hourglass look.

They closed their eyes and were asleep within a minute. Of course, that line about not sleeping after a meal was anything but an old wives tale, and the mountain sugary, rich food they had just consumed started being converted to fat by their bodies.

Chapter Five:

Monica and Rachel awoke in a stupor, feeling groggy and exhausted.

“How long were we out?” Monica asked.

“Four hours,” Rachel said, glancing up at the clock under the TV. “I can’t believe it!”

“Alright, that’s it,” Rachel said. “We’re going to get back in shape.”

“Agreed,” Rachel said.

“Starting today. We’re going to go on a power walk!” Monica declared.

“When?” Rachel said, rubbing her head.

“Right now!” said Monica. “I’m not going to be a bloated bride on my wedding day! I’m not going to have a wedding album full of fat pictures. Come on, let’s go.”

“Ok, ok, ok,” Rachel said. “Let me go get changed, at least.”

Rachel returned to her apartment to find Joey snoring. She couldn’t find any workout clothes that still fit her, as her running pants were no longer up to the challenge of containing her fat ass. She considered asking Monica to have them both stop off at the mall first, but then she realized that her favorite exercise gear store was right next to the food court. She closed her eyes, imagining the irresistible scents of Cinnabon, Mrs. Field’s cookies, Hot Dog on a Stick...

No way, she thought. A mall crawl was just asking for trouble.

Rachel found a blousy big skirt that managed to hide most of her unsightly bulges. It wasn’t the most efficient garment for working out, but what other choice did she have?

Meanwhile, Monica was facing a similar dilemma. Would she put her sweater back on, consigning herself to feeling uncomfortable and sweaty? Or did she pick a comfortable, breathable top that might cause her boob to fly out at any moment? She ended up going for the sweater, figuring comfort was less important than preventing embarrassment.

They met in the hallway, and gave each other a high five to salute their sincere attempt to get back into shape. Rachel pressed the elevator button and began patiently waiting.

“Hey, why wait?” Monica asked. “Let’s take the stairs!”

“Really?” Rachel asked, and Monica furrowed her brow in disapproval. “I mean, sure, yeah, why not?” What a way to spend a birthday, she grumbled under her breath.

By the time they had reached the bottom of the stairwell, they were already tuckered out. Monica’s breaths were coming in short gasps and pants, while Rachel was coughing and felt like her tired legs would give out at any moment.

“Okay,” Monica said, opening the door. “Ready to get fit?” The eager enthusiasm which which she had begun this enterprise was now so overdone that it was obvious she was only putting it on.

“Sure,” Rachel said dully as she shuffled forwards.

“I’m so hot,” Monica complained, as the sun hit them in the face. She pulled off her itchy sweater, which was damp with perspiration, and tied it around her wide waist.

They didn’t get more than a few blocks before they were far too tired to continue. Monica suggested heading back, but even that seemed like a bridge too far.

“Hey!” Rachel said, pointing across the street. “It’s Central Perk! Maybe we can stop there and catch our breath.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Monica agreed.

Gunther was in for a surprise when he saw Rachel and Monica walk in the door. Though he had noticed that their weights had been creeping up, he hadn’t seen in them in such revealing clothing in quite a while. And certainly not drenched in sweat.

“We’ll have to get something to drink, of course,” Rachel said.

“Absolutely,” Monica agreed.

“It’s not cheating, we’re just cooling off and rehydrating,” Rachel rationalized.

“I’ll have a large frappuccino, shot of chocolate, extra whipped cream,” Monica said, when she got to the counter.

“Um...uh, sure,” Gunther sputtered, trying as hard as he could not to oogle Monica’s exposed, glittering cleavage. When Rachel bent down to retie her show, though, Gunther didn’t bother to hold back and let himself gape in awe, slack jawed, at her big, jutting booty.

“I’ll have a large ‘Maui Zowy’ milkshake, with a shot of caramel,” said Rachel. “Oh, and one of those cranberry scones over there.”

“What?” Monica said. “You never said we could have a snack, too!”

“I didn’t plan on having the scone, it just looked good,” replied Rachel.

“Well, this changes everything if we can order food. I’ll have a lemon bar and a mini-donut,” Monica said.

“Two food items?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, so what? Combined, they’re probably just as big as your scone.”

“Yeah, but with twice the calories, thanks to that donut. Great diet food, Monica - how am I supposed to have willpower watching you eat that?”

“If you don’t think what I’m ordering is fair, you can always get more food yourself,” countered Monica.

“You know what? I think I will do that,” said Rachel. “Give me one of those, one of those, and two of those,” she said, pointing towards a coffee cake, a chocolate muffin, and a bear claw, respectively.

“Give me everything on this whole row!” Monica said, pointing towards the top shelf.


An hour and dozens of coffee shop confectioneries later, Monica and Rachel felt as full and as sick as they had in the morning.

“We came out here to get our figures back,” Rachel moaned, “and we make it four blocks down the street and blow it. It’s hopeless, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Monica asked.

“We’re getting older. Our metabolisms are slowing down, our energy is zilch, our drive is gone. There’s no way we can fight the battle forever,” Rachel said. “Not with our willpower.”

“I can’t believe it, we’re just going to let ourselves get fat, then?” Monica asked. “It sounds so sad and pathetic.”

“What else are we going to do, take diet advice from Phoebe? Do you really think we can eat nothing but health food for the rest of our lives?” Rachel asked. “I have a stressful job. I can’t get out of bed in the morning if I know I’m going to munch on some lettuce like a carrot.”

“It seems everywhere I go, I’m just bombarded with temptation. I’m afraid to go to work because I’m just surrounded by food all day,” said Monica. “I know the other chefs can tell I’ve been sneaking food from the supply closet, but nobody has the guts to say anything to my face.”

“I’m supposed to have dinner with Tag soon,” said Rachel, glancing at the clock on the wall. “ think I should call it quits with him, before I really humiliate myself.”


“So, where are we going, birthday girl?” Tag asked, once they were back at Rachel’s apartment.

“Can we talk in the hallway, Tag?” Rachel asked. He nodded and followed her.

“Look, you’re a great guy, and a lot of fun, but...”

“Wait!” Tag said. “I think I know where this is headed. Let me just say one thing first, okay?”

Rachel nodded, and Tag leaned down and gave her a passionate kiss.

“Ok, great example of the fun we have,” Rachel said. “But where is this headed, you know?”

“Why does it have to be headed somewhere specific?” Tag asked.

“It’s just...Tag, I’m not getting any younger, and in case you somehow haven’t noticed, I’m not getting any thinner either.”

“You think I’m going to start losing interest, is that it?” Tag said.

“Well, I certainly might, if I was a hot young guy dating a fat old lady,” Rachel said. “I wish you were six years older and 20 pounds fatter, and then there wouldn’t be this disparity between us. Well, as long as I’m wishing, I wish I was, you know, younger and thinner and everything...”

“Instead of trying to guess what I want, why not just let me choose what I want?” Tag said. “And I want you.”

“Really?” Rachel said, her voice dripping with disbelief.

“Really,” said Tag.

“I’m sorry, Tag, but I really think this is for the best, for both of us,” Rachel insisted. He might not have a problem with her now, Rachel thought, but she knew she couldn’t stop getting fatter, and she couldn’t just wait around for him to lose interest.

Chapter Six:

Eight Weeks Later

“How am I supposed to choose between these 12 appetizers choices?” asked Monica.

“Let me take a look” said Joey, and Monica handed him the menu. “Hmm...interesting. Fried chocolate bars, bacon wrapped burgers, macho nachos...I say you pick all 15 of them.”

“Fifteen?” Monica asked. “There was only 12.”

“Yeah, but I added a few,” Joey said, handing back the menu.

“I’ll just...worry about this later,” Monica said, stuffing it back into her purse. “I’ve got to head to the dress place.”

“I’ll go with you if they have a tasting,” offered Joey.

“Sure...maybe,” Monica hedged. But inside, she knew that she couldn’t resist trying out all the different offerings.


“Aren’t these dresses, you know, a little pricey?” Rachel said inside the dressing room as the glanced down at the tag.

“Yeah,” Monica said, “but I’m not going to buy them here. This is just the place to try them on, and then you buy them at this discount outlet across town.”

“Well, are you sure you can find one in your size?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, of course I can!” Monica insisted. “I haven’t gotten that fat!”

“Sure you haven’t,” Rachel muttered to herself, as Monica reached for the pricey dress. As she raised her leg to step into it, her lacey leggings made a small, noisy tear near the crotch. Several runs that had already begun on the sides immediately grew worse as well.

Monica’s creamy, soft looking hips were too broad to fit the dress around. She tugged and she tugged, but it would not budge.

“Squeeze me,” Monica instructed.

“What, what?” replied Rachel.

“Squeeze my hips here while I take a deep breath,” said Monica. Rachel did as she was told, and with one firm, final tug, she managed to make it fit.

As she struggled to keep her breaths shallow, Monica squeezed her quivering, doughy arms into the tight, restrictive armholes, resulting in a fit so tight she could barely move her elbows. Her huge chest, which now sported breasts which were on the verge of jumping out of a DD cup bra, strained the front and distorted the intended design of the fabric. Instead of looking regal and staid, the garment now looked like an overstretched corset, with her big breasts squeezed nearly up to her neck. The look was one jiggle or bump away from being pornographic.

Monica’s plump cheeks forced themselves into a smile as she tried to make the best of it.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“,” Rachel stammered.

“That bad, huh?” Monica said, her expression going sour. She’d had to go to a plus size bridal store now - plus sized! Feeling defeated and pathetic, she let out a long, mournful sigh.

As the air left her lungs, her stomach finally returned to its normal, bulging size, pulling up on the fabric from the middle of the gown. That caused the fabric hugging her hips, already stretched to the limit, to pull a little more. With a sickening sound, it began to tear. Monica quickly tried to wriggle her hips and her legs to stop it, but the motion only served to make it worse. In a few seconds, the tear went from the edge of Monica’s hip to the well of her back.

“Oh my God,” Monica said. “Tell me this is just a terrible nightmare. Tell me that did not just happen.”

“It happened!” Rachel said. “I’m sorry!”

“I can’t afford this dress! Let alone paying for this dress and then another dress at a plus size store,” Monica screeched. “We have to get out of here before someone notices us.”

“Alright, let’s get you out of this first,” Rachel said. That was easier said than done, and as Monica pulled the tear only managed to spread.

“Damn,” she spat, when she was back in her regular clothes, sweat pants and a bright pink blouse. They used to be what she called her fat clothes, but now they barely fit. “This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me!”


“Oh no,” Rachel said, as she glanced up from her seat on the sofa in the coffee shop. “It’s her.”

“Her who?” Phoebe asked.

“Melissa, my college sorority sister. We used to be really close, but I can’t handle her energy right now. Plus, I’d hate for her to see me when my figure’s gone to pot like this.”

“Oh my God, Ray-Ray Green!” Melissa shouted.

“Melissa!” Rachel said, trying her best to avoid wincing.

“It’s been like, forever,” Melissa said. “You really look great!”

“Oh...haha, yeah, sure,” Rachel said. “You on the other hand, you look exactly the same.”

“Oh, look at you! Your chin looks perfectly round and it brings out your eyes. Your shoulder... Oh my,” Melissa cooed while resting her fingers on Rachel’s broad back, giving a light stroke.

Phoebe eyed the display of affection with interest, “Oh, she’s the one, isn’t she?”

“The one what?” Melissa asked as she withdrew her hands while maintaining eye contact with Rachel.

“Oh, it’s a...silly story,” Rachel said, her plump cheeks growing red with embarrassment.

“No, I want to hear it,” Melissa insisted.

“Well, remember that night after the Sigma Chi luau, when we had a little too much to drink, and, you know...we made out?” Rachel asked.

“Uh, no,” Melissa said.

“Come on, you have to remember!” Rachel said. “I never do anything crazy, that that was the one night I did something like that.”

“Sorry,” Melissa said, smiling weakly.

“I knew that story was made up,” said Phoebe.

“It wasn’t made up!” Rachel insisted. “It really happened.”

“If you say it happened, fine, it happened,” Phoebe said, rolling her eyes a little.

Rachel felt infuriated. “Look, if you don’t remember that night, then maybe you’ll remember this!” She leaned in, planted her lips on Melissa’s, and kissed her passionately.

“You do love me,” Melissa said. “Of course I remember. I think about that night all the time. I just wasn’t sure if you felt the way I did.”

“You...what?” Rachel asked.

“I remember at the luau, our coconut bras kept knocking together,” Melissa said wistfully. “God, what I’d give to see you in that coconut bikini now!” she said, gesturing towards Rachel’s chest. Most of her weight had ended up on the bottom half of her figure, but her breasts had gone up a cup size, and it certainly showed through her tight-fitting tank top.

“I’d look awful in a little thing like that,” Rachel said, frowning. “My figure has gone to hell, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Are you kidding?” Melissa asked. “You look fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” Rachel asked. She had experienced trouble accepting Tag’s compliments, and that was dozens of pounds ago. This was beyond belief.

“I just want to eat you up,” Melissa said, stroking her hair with one hand and reaching around with the other arm to give Rachel’s huge butt a big squeeze through her overstretched jeans. Her flesh was soft, warm and giving, and jiggled a little even after Melissa’s fingers had let go.

Rachel felt embarrassed to receive level of affection from another girl, and in a public setting no less. But she couldn’t deny that it felt good, especially since she had written off receiving romantic attention once her weight had exploded.

“Look, Melissa, I just don’t think that...” Rachel started.

“Shh....” Melissa said. “I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to say another word. My place, eight o’clock, ok? Here’s my card.”

“You’re a party planner?” Rachel asked as she read it.

“Yeah. I guess in this case, it’s a party for two,” she said with a wink, before exiting the cafe.

“Woah,” Phoebe said. “I did not expect that.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Rachel said, flopping down on the couch.

“So...what are you going to do?” Phoebe asked.

Rachel thought about what had just happened, and a tingling feeling spread from her exceedingly thick thighs up to her crotch. “No way, I can’t go see her,” she said. “That’s totally crazy.”

Epilogue: After the Wedding

“I still can’t believe you’re really Mrs. Monica Bing,” said Rachel, cutting a slice of leftover wedding cake and causing her upper arms to quiver a little.

“I still can’t believe you’re really pregnant,” said Monica, grabbing several potato meatballs from the box containing the leftover appetizers.

“I know!” Rachel said. “But the good news is, anytime I ask for seconds, I can say I’m eating for two. It’s like a get-out-jail free card for binge eating,” she said, grabbing the slice of cake by the hands and stuffing into her maw.

“Maybe I should get pregnant,” Monica said. “What’s going to be my excuse?”

“Are you kidding?” Rachel said, her mouth partly full. “You’re married now!” Nobody expects women to keep up their figures after they’ve got the rock on their finger.”

“You really think so?” Monica said, as she began eating the fried-potato bites two at a time.

“Well, Chandler didn’t seem to mind last night, did he?” asked Rachel.

“Nope,” said Monica, after a hard swallow. “In fact I’ve never seen him more into me,” she added, her chipmunk cheeks rendered bigger than usual by her wide grin. Monica was wearing a tight fitting bathrobe that showed off every new bulge and swell of her growing figure. Her rounder, larger shoulders were just barely contained by the small thing, causing the robe to fit very snugly around her torso. None of her bras fit, so her E cup breasts strained the plush fabric, leaving little indentations around her larger nipples. The tie around her waist was budging a little every time she swallowed down another bite of the rich food, and her wide, broad hips caused the ends of the robe to flare up around her waist, exposing her pudgy looking thighs and calves.

Rachel nodded a little and smiled, accentuating her doughy double chin. Her tube top was straining against her larger chest, and showed off her burgeoning belly. None of her pants fit, and her skirts covered her so inadequately now that wearing them was a waste of time. Rachel decided that since it was just girls, she’d wear a string bikini bottom. The string itself had vanished between her colossal butt cheeks, which cushioned her so much that she chairs everyone felt vastly more comfortable. Her huge legs, which touched from her groin all the way down to her cankles, were decorated with plenty of cellulite and shook wildly with every step. Even her feet and her toes looked heavier, with Rachel going up 2 shoe sizes.

“Here’s to friendship,” Monica said, raising a flute of champagne.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Rachel. She wasn’t letting herself have alcohol, but she guzzled a glass of chocolate milk like it was nobody’s business.
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