Part One
“Frank!” Mayra Stein yelled as she walked into their little three bedroom place in Fullerton. It was a modest place, but between her income as a reporter for the six o’clock news and Frank’s income as a bank manager, they were doing well enough. Of the three bedrooms, two of them were for each individual’s personal space. Frank was in his, which Mayra knew. Mayra threw her little handbag onto the sofa, then glided down the short hall, her heels clacking on the wood floor in a steady, annoyed beat.
“Yes, dear?” Frank Stein said tiredly as he slowly rotated around in his groaning office chair. He had come to anticipate his wife’s annoyed returns home. He sighed, his double chin deepening as he looked down before looking up to see his angry wife enter.
She was an Indian-American, with a beautiful deep caramel complexion and long glossy black hair. It was currently pulled back in a tasteful bun. Her trim figure was decked out in a crisp white sleeveless dress with a simple black leather cinch belt that highlighted her trim waist, modest breasts, and the slight flair of her hips. Her five foot nine figure was imposing in the doorway; especially when she was in her three-inch heels, her hands on her hips, and her amber eyes alight with fury. Even angered as she was by whatever it was, she still could take his breath away.
“You have forgotten something.” Frank had learned quickly that Mayra never asked a question to things she knew. When he first was getting to know her, it was a cute quirk. Now five years married, it felt like a means to just make him feel stupid.
“Probably. What was it this time?” He ran his fingers through his thick curly brown hair. It was a nervous tick of his.
“The channel’s Halloween party is in two days. I haven’t seen nor heard about any costumes, which was your responsibility this year. So, what are we going as? And when the fuck are they arriving?”
Frank sighed again. “Shit...” he breathed. He grunted as he removed his bulk from his chair and stood to his full height of six-two. He had dressed down after getting home, so he was down to his undershirt and work slacks. He would not admit it, but the real reason he had ditched his button-up was because it had started to get a little tight around his belly. Again.
His weight gain had been on the increase for the last several years, even before he met Mayra. He had been in decent shape after college, where he had played football to earn his degree in financing and accounting. However, the job market tanked for him and he was able to land a job as a personal banker. A job that kept him in a chair more often than not and saw him go from his player weight of two-forty to two-sixty-five over a two year time span.
Meeting the woman who would become his wife was an event that almost ended his life. Even with all of the technological advances, people still try to rob banks. Some more stupidly than others. Some tweaker walked in with a snub nose, pointed it at Frank, and told him to empty the teller stations. Too bad for the skinny tweaker that Frank knew two things; that he outweighed the would-be thief by over a hundred pounds and the dumbass had left the safety on. A quick crushing tackle ended the threat.
However, his heroics earned him some time in the limelight and the local news station sent Mayra down to interview him. She had looked captivating in a blue pantsuit and checkered blouse. Still riding the adrenaline high, Frank asked her out after the cameras stopped rolling. Surprisingly, she agreed and the rest was history. Many meals with both her and her family added close to fifty pounds to his frame over the last five years. It was a fact that bothered him more that his wife had somehow been spared. She worked hard to keep her figure maintained in the low one-thirties.
“Jesus, Frank...” Mayra said as she rolled her eyes. “I’m so tired of doing this with you. I asked for one simple thing: buy the damn costumes. You know how important the channel’s party is as a big fundraiser event. And as my face has become the face of the station, it’s highly important that we have our shit together.”
Mayra stalked toward their bedroom with Frank plodding along behind her, where she threw her heels off and started ditching the simple silver studs into her earring container atop her dresser. She did both actions with a lot more force than was necessary. “I’m sorry, Mayra,” Frank said softly as he leaned against the door frame.
Mayra turned sharply toward and pointed a finger at him. “I don’t want another fucking apology! I want you to fix this. Today. You are going to find costumes for us to go in that are absolutely amazing and all of it, every last penny, is going to be covered by your fat ass.”
Frank took a step back, as if she had slapped him. “My… fat ass?”
Mayra put a hand up and took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t kill you to get a little in shape, Frank. Get serious about your health. Doctor Rosen said your stats aren’t looking too great at your last check-up. All you do is sit at work and eat, then come home and do more of the same. But, frankly, I’m sick of looking at all of you.”
Frank had a puzzled expression on his face. He knew things had not been great for them lately. They had not been intimate in over eight months and had been arguing more about little things, but this was on another level. “Wait… what?”
Mayra sighed and looked away from him, back towards her dresser. “I think… I think it’s time to call it, Frank.”
Frank took a step towards her, putting his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “Now, just wait a minute, Mayra. I still love you. Cou- couldn’t we try, I don’t know, counseling or something?”
Mayra turned to face him again. She had a mixed look of disgust and disappointment. “My career is on the rise. I can’t afford to have a bad marriage be dragged out by a year of counseling so that I can be reported on. Best to just get it over with. After the Halloween party.” She turned away from him again and started undressing. “I’ve already eaten with Matt and the others. I’m going to bed. I would recommend you not.”
Frank was speechless and he wanted to keep fighting for his marriage, for his love, but he recognized a losing battle when he saw one. He quietly turned and padded on out of the bedroom back to his office space. He sat back down into his abused office chair with a heavy thump and just stared at his computer screen for several minutes. It had on it a background picture from their first Halloween party where they had gone as the Frankenstein’s as a play on his last name. She had looked lovely as the Bride. She had done her hair up in that classic do of the Bride’s, even added in the white streaks and done the make-up to gray out her skin herself.
Suddenly, he was inspired. He could use this opportunity to relight the flame of his marriage. But, glancing down at his hefty middle, he knew he would not fit his old costume. He would have to buy a new one. Hopping online, he started searching.
But, several hours later, well after two in the morning, he had nothing. Site after site had failed him. Either they did not have his size, which was a 3X, or they could not get it to him before the party. Frank was about to give up hope when he came across a Pintrest site promoting a couple’s set of the Frankenstein monsters. The man’s suit was a fairly average-looking suit; dark gray with a black button-up and a dark gray-blue tie. Suit had, of course, the distressed and patched-up look of the undead about it.
But it was the Bride’s costume that really caught his eye. Sleeveless with a scalloped neckline that gave a tantalizing glimpse of the model’s breasts, it was classic ivory white that had a silk sash that matched the tie that showed off the model’s figure beautifully. Cut to just at the knees, the hem was tattered, but the model’s lean thighs could be made out beneath the fabric.
Frank smiled for the first time in hours and clicked on the link. He would have whooped for joy when he saw he could get them here by tomorrow evening. Tired and distracted, he did not realize he only put in his size for the couple’s costumes nor did he even realize there was a drop-down menu to select a non-maternity version. All he knew was that Ample Costuming had, hopefully, just saved his marriage.
Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
Moderator: Toby
10 posts
• Page 1 of 1
Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Toby » Sat Oct 05, 2019 10:16 pm
Want to have a story written by me? Send me a direct message and we'll discuss!
- Toby
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Mon Apr 01, 2013 1:24 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Toby » Sun Oct 06, 2019 1:29 pm
Part Two
Frank awoke muzzily on the couch to a most unusual smell in his household on a Saturday morning; breakfast. He slowly sat up and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. The thin sheet he had used to cover himself fell to the floor from between his thick thighs. From beneath his gut, Frank could feel his morning wood rise against it in his tight boxers, but he tried to pay that no mind. Mayra certainly would not be helping him with that problem this time. Sighing, he hefted himself up off the couch to find out what was going on in his kitchen without him.
In it, much to his surprise, he found Mayra cooking away. She was dressed in her usual workout gear; a plain black sports bra that contoured perfectly to her B-cups and a pair of black Lycra running pants that hugged her lean thighs and pert butt like a second skin. There was a tie-dye running stripe that ran down her thighs. He stared at her for several minutes, just taking her in, knowing that these few moments would come to an end.
Mayra turned and noticed him standing there. However, instead of frowning, she smiled at him. Her white teeth shown against her dark tan skin. She had sharp, strong facial features. A patrician nose, high cheekbones, a defined jawline that led down to a pointed chin. “Hey, big guy. Feeling hungry? I know I should be out on my morning run, but I just felt like making a big breakfast for us instead.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up at that. For the last five years, he could never tempt her to eat anything he made for breakfast. Sure, she would join him sometimes, but she always had a protein bar or a quick smoothie. Now, she had made two huge omelets that seemed heavy on the meat and cheese and she was mixing up a batch of pancakes. He could already see a plate with a decent sized stack ready to go on the counter. This was unusual for her, just like last night had thrown him for a loop. He was reminded of what she said, which prompted him to talk about his purchase.
“Sure… So, umm… I got our costumes.” He sat down at the breakfast table, where two large glasses of orange juice awaited them. That was odd, too. She hated orange juice.
“Oh, lovely. What are we going as?” Mayra asked as she started doling out pancake mix onto the griddle. Frank watched in amazement for several seconds. He had no idea she even knew they had the griddle, much less how to use it.
“Frank?” Mayra asked when she realized he had not answered after several seconds.
He shook his head and grabbed one of the glasses. “Right, sorry,” he said. He was wondering what the hell was wrong with him. “Umm… well, I figured a throwback to the classics wouldn’t hurt this year. I know I outgrew mine, but I found a matched set of Frankenstein monsters online that said they’ll be here later today. It had all of the extras, including a wig for you if you wanted, and the make-up. I hope you’ll like the dress, I think it’ll look fantastic on you.”
Mayra nodded as she started scraping pancakes off the griddle. “I’m sure it looks fantastic. And thanks for thinking of getting a wig. As much fun as it was to do my hair up like that, it was a pain in the ass to keep up. You remember how it started to wilt halfway through the party?” She chuckled to herself as she shook her head.
She came around to the table, loaded up with four plates on her arms. Two were the omelets, two were pancakes. Each pancake plate was stacked four deep, had a diameter of five inches, and were incredibly fluffy. She carefully set them down and huffed out a breath, then looked at her husband. “And don’t worry about having outgrown your old costume. Things happen. But we could start to take some preemptive measures, if you’d like to get back in shape.” She placed a hand on his bulky shoulder and shook it lovingly.
Frank was having a very hard time processing what was going on and he inadvertently recoiled from her touch. Mayra’s beautiful face darkened as a puzzled expression crossed it. “You want to talk about last night.” She sat down and pulled one of the omelets in front of her.
Frank could not take any more. “Yeah, I’d say so. You came home, yelled at me like usual, made fun of my weight, which was unusual, then told me it was over between us. And now, you act like that didn’t happen at all, never minding the fact you’re joining me for breakfast. Which you never do.”
Mayra had started to pour warm syrup on her pancakes, but Frank’s rant had her set it aside. She sighed. “Yeah… about that. I’m sorry, Frank. I was just really stressed out from work and the lack of updates about the costumes had really pissed me off.” She started cutting forcefully into her own stack of pancakes.
Frank just looked at her. Unlike his wife, he was too annoyed to have an appetite right now. “Enough to threaten me with divorce? Really?”
Mayra took her first bite of pancakes. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a small moan. “Oh, honey, you gotta try my pancakes. I didn’t know I could make such deliciousness.” She shoved another bite into her mouth.
Frank just stared at her. “Mayra...” he said softly as he looked down at his paunchy middle. “Are you leaving me for someone… thinner?”
Mayra’s head tilted to one side as she glanced at him, her mouth full of pancake. It was a comical look for her cheeks to be so blown out, if Frank had been feeling like laughing. Though the thought briefly crossed his mind that she did look cute like that. She held up a delicate hand and worked through her bite. She then placed that hand on his that was resting on the table beside his silverware.
“Absolutely not. I’m sorry about what I said, it was uncalled for. I had hoped by making this huge breakfast and sharing it with you, you’d see that I am trying to be sincere about it.” She danced her fingers across the back of his meaty hand and sheepishly smiled up at him. He noted a drop of syrup in the corner of her mouth. “Can you forgive a stressed out woman?”
Frank mulled it over. She was practically handing him everything he had stayed up late worrying about last night on a silver platter. Well, two plates of high calorie breakfast foods, but it made sense. After all, they had agreed that every year one of them would handle the holiday seasons and this was his year. He had done alright in the beginning for Valentine’s Day, but by the Fourth of July, he was really messing up.
“I guess stress can go both ways,” he thought. He smiled back at his lovely wife and said, “Yeah, I can. We should table the rest of the discussion for another time, my pancakes are getting cold.”
Mayra’s smile widened and brightened, lighting up her face. “Indeed. I really put some effort into these.” They both dug in heartily.
For the first time in Frank’s memory, Mayra out ate him. Not only did she polish off her own food, she finished his. The thin woman leaned back in her chair and adjusted her Lyrca pants. Her normally flat and trim belly looked uncomfortably bloated and it rose and fell in time with her slightly labored breathing.
“Ugh...” she moaned. “I have no idea why I was so hungry, but that really hit the spot.”
Just then, her phone rang to the tone of Johnny Cash’s “Solitary Man.” “Damnit,” she breathed. “It’s Matt.” It took her only a moment to unlock her phone.
“Morning, Matt. What’s up?” she asked. She unconsciously sat up straight in her chair again, the air of professionalism coming back into her posture.
“What? Oh, that’s amazing, if unbelievably ill-timed,” she crooned. Frank cocked an eyebrow at her, but she held up a hand. “And you need me to cover her for her shift. None of the others can? Well, it is my day off, Matt… Yeah, yeah, I know, golden girl. Look, I’ll do this once for you today, but get someone else for Sunday. I’m not doing a seven-day work week. Yes, yes, I know. Love you too. Bye, Matt.” She tapped the hang up button and looked at Frank.
“What did Silver want?” Frank asked dryly. He had never cared for the producer, but up until this morning, his ambivalence toward the man had turned into hostility. Frank was fairly certain Matt Silver was trying to get into his wife’s pants, but he had no proof. And he knew Mayra had never cheated on him. He hoped.
“You remember Kelly Stout, one of the midday weekend anchors?”
“The pregnant one?” Frank asked. “Yes, what abou- Oh. I thought she was on maternity leave already? I mean, shit, she looked ready to drop a week ago.”
Mayra sighed, then hefted herself to her own feet. “Today was supposed to be her last day. But she waited too long. She’s headed toward the hospital right now, experiencing full on labor. God, I hope I never experience that.” She glided passed her husband, who had looked down in a slight bit of shame, towards their bedroom. “Anyway, Matt has asked if I could cover for her today. Nobody else was able to on such short notice.”
Frank heaved his own mass up and followed her into their bedroom. He figured now would be a good time to get his own morning routine going anyway. He needed a shower, if only to help with the stiffness in his back from sleeping on the couch. Besides, it was an opportunity to see his wife get naked, which was always a bonus. But there was something that was nagging him that he needed to pursue.
“So, about labor pain...” he started. Mayra, who had walked into her closet to find an outfit, poked her head back out sharply.
“Frank. We just had a very nice meal. Let’s not ruin the moment by talking about a subject we have already tabled.” She went back to rifling through her work outfits, finally settling on a cherry red skirt with matching blazer and a loose cream and black checkered blouse. She looked up to see Frank still standing there, looking expectantly at her.
“What?” she asked as she began to undress.
“I just… Look, I’m thirty-two now. You’re thirty. I’m older than my father was when he had his first kid. I just don’t want us to miss out, get too old to do fun things with when they’re young. You know?”
Mayra sighed heavily as she cast aside her workout clothes. Her breakfast belly was still prominent on her frame. The distention pulled ever so slightly against her white panties. She threw on a bra, then the blouse before saying anything.
“Like I said, let me get my career where I want it to be. I’m a rising star. If I can maintain this for another couple of years-”
“Another couple of years?” Frank interjected.
“Yes, then we should be more financially ready to have a kid. A kid.”
“But, I thought our plan was for two?”
“Plans change, Frank!” Mayra said in an exasperated tone as she pulled the skirt up her long legs. She sucked in her little breakfast belly, tucked in her shirt, and buttoned the skirt. Almost as soon as it was done, she released her little pooch. There was a faint trace of stress lines around her abdomen on the skirt. Frank figured it would go down by the time she arrived.
A strong thought went through his mind. “You know, if she had eaten like that most days for the last year or so, she could’ve easily gained fifty pounds by now.” It struck him as odd that he would think about that now, but it was another sore point in their relationship. Frank would love Mayra no matter her size, but he did feel incredibly self-conscious about the fact he outweighed her by almost two hundred pounds.
Frank shook those thoughts from his mind and refocused on talking about getting pregnant. Was not hard, as he had hoped that maybe a pregnancy or two would loosen her up enough to get chubby. At least, for a little while.
“Times are different, Frank,” Mayra said softly as she came around to his side of the room. She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye. It was not hard, she had slipped on her three-inch heels, which put her within a couple of inches of his height. “Charlie was able to work one job while Paula stayed home with you and your brothers. We need to be more careful.”
“But I do our finances, Mayra,” Frank pleaded. “I know we would be okay.”
“Just okay, though. I want us to be great. And that means some more time, okay?” She placed a hand to the side of his face. Her fingers felt smooth and warm.
The fight went out Frank’s broad shoulders and he leaned into the touch. He suddenly felt very tired. Sighing, he said, “Yeah, okay.”
Mayra smiled up at him and kissed him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean we can’t practice some. I did buy some new lingerie recently. Hadn’t had an opportunity to work their magic on you,” she whispered into his ear. She leaned back to look him in the eye again. Her amber eyes sparkled with mischievousness.
Frank was not sure where this side of her had come from. Their work schedules had been a significant source of interference between them, but she had also been cold toward him since Valentine’s Day even when they had the time. But, he learned quick to not look a gift horse in the mouth. If she wanted him, then he most definitely wanted her.
“Could I come by the station, have lunch with you?” he asked. He placed his hands on her narrow hips and pulled her toward him. She melted into his big belly and broad chest.
“Sure. Come by around one. Should be done by then. I’ll have to stay for the evening as well, but we’ll have tomorrow. All to us.” She kissed him again, this one lasting a little longer, before pulling away.
“I need to go,” she said. “Matt will crucify me if I’m late and the girls still need to do my make-up and hair.”
“Mind wearing those chopsticks I got you?” Frank said as he settled his mass onto his side of the bed.
Without looking, she reached over and plucked them out of the upright tube. They were banded gold on black metal chopsticks that he had gotten for her on their third wedding anniversary. “Sure, babe. No problem. It’ll be fun.” With that, she sashayed out of their bedroom and headed to work.
Frank set an alarm on his phone for a couple of hours from then and prepared to have some better rest. He replayed the memory of her walking out the door several times. “Was her ass fuller?” he thought. He felt his manhood rise up and announce that even if it was, it would be no problem. Sighing contentedly, he rolled over and caught up on some sleep. There was a smile on his cherubic face.
Frank awoke muzzily on the couch to a most unusual smell in his household on a Saturday morning; breakfast. He slowly sat up and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. The thin sheet he had used to cover himself fell to the floor from between his thick thighs. From beneath his gut, Frank could feel his morning wood rise against it in his tight boxers, but he tried to pay that no mind. Mayra certainly would not be helping him with that problem this time. Sighing, he hefted himself up off the couch to find out what was going on in his kitchen without him.
In it, much to his surprise, he found Mayra cooking away. She was dressed in her usual workout gear; a plain black sports bra that contoured perfectly to her B-cups and a pair of black Lycra running pants that hugged her lean thighs and pert butt like a second skin. There was a tie-dye running stripe that ran down her thighs. He stared at her for several minutes, just taking her in, knowing that these few moments would come to an end.
Mayra turned and noticed him standing there. However, instead of frowning, she smiled at him. Her white teeth shown against her dark tan skin. She had sharp, strong facial features. A patrician nose, high cheekbones, a defined jawline that led down to a pointed chin. “Hey, big guy. Feeling hungry? I know I should be out on my morning run, but I just felt like making a big breakfast for us instead.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up at that. For the last five years, he could never tempt her to eat anything he made for breakfast. Sure, she would join him sometimes, but she always had a protein bar or a quick smoothie. Now, she had made two huge omelets that seemed heavy on the meat and cheese and she was mixing up a batch of pancakes. He could already see a plate with a decent sized stack ready to go on the counter. This was unusual for her, just like last night had thrown him for a loop. He was reminded of what she said, which prompted him to talk about his purchase.
“Sure… So, umm… I got our costumes.” He sat down at the breakfast table, where two large glasses of orange juice awaited them. That was odd, too. She hated orange juice.
“Oh, lovely. What are we going as?” Mayra asked as she started doling out pancake mix onto the griddle. Frank watched in amazement for several seconds. He had no idea she even knew they had the griddle, much less how to use it.
“Frank?” Mayra asked when she realized he had not answered after several seconds.
He shook his head and grabbed one of the glasses. “Right, sorry,” he said. He was wondering what the hell was wrong with him. “Umm… well, I figured a throwback to the classics wouldn’t hurt this year. I know I outgrew mine, but I found a matched set of Frankenstein monsters online that said they’ll be here later today. It had all of the extras, including a wig for you if you wanted, and the make-up. I hope you’ll like the dress, I think it’ll look fantastic on you.”
Mayra nodded as she started scraping pancakes off the griddle. “I’m sure it looks fantastic. And thanks for thinking of getting a wig. As much fun as it was to do my hair up like that, it was a pain in the ass to keep up. You remember how it started to wilt halfway through the party?” She chuckled to herself as she shook her head.
She came around to the table, loaded up with four plates on her arms. Two were the omelets, two were pancakes. Each pancake plate was stacked four deep, had a diameter of five inches, and were incredibly fluffy. She carefully set them down and huffed out a breath, then looked at her husband. “And don’t worry about having outgrown your old costume. Things happen. But we could start to take some preemptive measures, if you’d like to get back in shape.” She placed a hand on his bulky shoulder and shook it lovingly.
Frank was having a very hard time processing what was going on and he inadvertently recoiled from her touch. Mayra’s beautiful face darkened as a puzzled expression crossed it. “You want to talk about last night.” She sat down and pulled one of the omelets in front of her.
Frank could not take any more. “Yeah, I’d say so. You came home, yelled at me like usual, made fun of my weight, which was unusual, then told me it was over between us. And now, you act like that didn’t happen at all, never minding the fact you’re joining me for breakfast. Which you never do.”
Mayra had started to pour warm syrup on her pancakes, but Frank’s rant had her set it aside. She sighed. “Yeah… about that. I’m sorry, Frank. I was just really stressed out from work and the lack of updates about the costumes had really pissed me off.” She started cutting forcefully into her own stack of pancakes.
Frank just looked at her. Unlike his wife, he was too annoyed to have an appetite right now. “Enough to threaten me with divorce? Really?”
Mayra took her first bite of pancakes. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a small moan. “Oh, honey, you gotta try my pancakes. I didn’t know I could make such deliciousness.” She shoved another bite into her mouth.
Frank just stared at her. “Mayra...” he said softly as he looked down at his paunchy middle. “Are you leaving me for someone… thinner?”
Mayra’s head tilted to one side as she glanced at him, her mouth full of pancake. It was a comical look for her cheeks to be so blown out, if Frank had been feeling like laughing. Though the thought briefly crossed his mind that she did look cute like that. She held up a delicate hand and worked through her bite. She then placed that hand on his that was resting on the table beside his silverware.
“Absolutely not. I’m sorry about what I said, it was uncalled for. I had hoped by making this huge breakfast and sharing it with you, you’d see that I am trying to be sincere about it.” She danced her fingers across the back of his meaty hand and sheepishly smiled up at him. He noted a drop of syrup in the corner of her mouth. “Can you forgive a stressed out woman?”
Frank mulled it over. She was practically handing him everything he had stayed up late worrying about last night on a silver platter. Well, two plates of high calorie breakfast foods, but it made sense. After all, they had agreed that every year one of them would handle the holiday seasons and this was his year. He had done alright in the beginning for Valentine’s Day, but by the Fourth of July, he was really messing up.
“I guess stress can go both ways,” he thought. He smiled back at his lovely wife and said, “Yeah, I can. We should table the rest of the discussion for another time, my pancakes are getting cold.”
Mayra’s smile widened and brightened, lighting up her face. “Indeed. I really put some effort into these.” They both dug in heartily.
For the first time in Frank’s memory, Mayra out ate him. Not only did she polish off her own food, she finished his. The thin woman leaned back in her chair and adjusted her Lyrca pants. Her normally flat and trim belly looked uncomfortably bloated and it rose and fell in time with her slightly labored breathing.
“Ugh...” she moaned. “I have no idea why I was so hungry, but that really hit the spot.”
Just then, her phone rang to the tone of Johnny Cash’s “Solitary Man.” “Damnit,” she breathed. “It’s Matt.” It took her only a moment to unlock her phone.
“Morning, Matt. What’s up?” she asked. She unconsciously sat up straight in her chair again, the air of professionalism coming back into her posture.
“What? Oh, that’s amazing, if unbelievably ill-timed,” she crooned. Frank cocked an eyebrow at her, but she held up a hand. “And you need me to cover her for her shift. None of the others can? Well, it is my day off, Matt… Yeah, yeah, I know, golden girl. Look, I’ll do this once for you today, but get someone else for Sunday. I’m not doing a seven-day work week. Yes, yes, I know. Love you too. Bye, Matt.” She tapped the hang up button and looked at Frank.
“What did Silver want?” Frank asked dryly. He had never cared for the producer, but up until this morning, his ambivalence toward the man had turned into hostility. Frank was fairly certain Matt Silver was trying to get into his wife’s pants, but he had no proof. And he knew Mayra had never cheated on him. He hoped.
“You remember Kelly Stout, one of the midday weekend anchors?”
“The pregnant one?” Frank asked. “Yes, what abou- Oh. I thought she was on maternity leave already? I mean, shit, she looked ready to drop a week ago.”
Mayra sighed, then hefted herself to her own feet. “Today was supposed to be her last day. But she waited too long. She’s headed toward the hospital right now, experiencing full on labor. God, I hope I never experience that.” She glided passed her husband, who had looked down in a slight bit of shame, towards their bedroom. “Anyway, Matt has asked if I could cover for her today. Nobody else was able to on such short notice.”
Frank heaved his own mass up and followed her into their bedroom. He figured now would be a good time to get his own morning routine going anyway. He needed a shower, if only to help with the stiffness in his back from sleeping on the couch. Besides, it was an opportunity to see his wife get naked, which was always a bonus. But there was something that was nagging him that he needed to pursue.
“So, about labor pain...” he started. Mayra, who had walked into her closet to find an outfit, poked her head back out sharply.
“Frank. We just had a very nice meal. Let’s not ruin the moment by talking about a subject we have already tabled.” She went back to rifling through her work outfits, finally settling on a cherry red skirt with matching blazer and a loose cream and black checkered blouse. She looked up to see Frank still standing there, looking expectantly at her.
“What?” she asked as she began to undress.
“I just… Look, I’m thirty-two now. You’re thirty. I’m older than my father was when he had his first kid. I just don’t want us to miss out, get too old to do fun things with when they’re young. You know?”
Mayra sighed heavily as she cast aside her workout clothes. Her breakfast belly was still prominent on her frame. The distention pulled ever so slightly against her white panties. She threw on a bra, then the blouse before saying anything.
“Like I said, let me get my career where I want it to be. I’m a rising star. If I can maintain this for another couple of years-”
“Another couple of years?” Frank interjected.
“Yes, then we should be more financially ready to have a kid. A kid.”
“But, I thought our plan was for two?”
“Plans change, Frank!” Mayra said in an exasperated tone as she pulled the skirt up her long legs. She sucked in her little breakfast belly, tucked in her shirt, and buttoned the skirt. Almost as soon as it was done, she released her little pooch. There was a faint trace of stress lines around her abdomen on the skirt. Frank figured it would go down by the time she arrived.
A strong thought went through his mind. “You know, if she had eaten like that most days for the last year or so, she could’ve easily gained fifty pounds by now.” It struck him as odd that he would think about that now, but it was another sore point in their relationship. Frank would love Mayra no matter her size, but he did feel incredibly self-conscious about the fact he outweighed her by almost two hundred pounds.
Frank shook those thoughts from his mind and refocused on talking about getting pregnant. Was not hard, as he had hoped that maybe a pregnancy or two would loosen her up enough to get chubby. At least, for a little while.
“Times are different, Frank,” Mayra said softly as she came around to his side of the room. She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye. It was not hard, she had slipped on her three-inch heels, which put her within a couple of inches of his height. “Charlie was able to work one job while Paula stayed home with you and your brothers. We need to be more careful.”
“But I do our finances, Mayra,” Frank pleaded. “I know we would be okay.”
“Just okay, though. I want us to be great. And that means some more time, okay?” She placed a hand to the side of his face. Her fingers felt smooth and warm.
The fight went out Frank’s broad shoulders and he leaned into the touch. He suddenly felt very tired. Sighing, he said, “Yeah, okay.”
Mayra smiled up at him and kissed him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean we can’t practice some. I did buy some new lingerie recently. Hadn’t had an opportunity to work their magic on you,” she whispered into his ear. She leaned back to look him in the eye again. Her amber eyes sparkled with mischievousness.
Frank was not sure where this side of her had come from. Their work schedules had been a significant source of interference between them, but she had also been cold toward him since Valentine’s Day even when they had the time. But, he learned quick to not look a gift horse in the mouth. If she wanted him, then he most definitely wanted her.
“Could I come by the station, have lunch with you?” he asked. He placed his hands on her narrow hips and pulled her toward him. She melted into his big belly and broad chest.
“Sure. Come by around one. Should be done by then. I’ll have to stay for the evening as well, but we’ll have tomorrow. All to us.” She kissed him again, this one lasting a little longer, before pulling away.
“I need to go,” she said. “Matt will crucify me if I’m late and the girls still need to do my make-up and hair.”
“Mind wearing those chopsticks I got you?” Frank said as he settled his mass onto his side of the bed.
Without looking, she reached over and plucked them out of the upright tube. They were banded gold on black metal chopsticks that he had gotten for her on their third wedding anniversary. “Sure, babe. No problem. It’ll be fun.” With that, she sashayed out of their bedroom and headed to work.
Frank set an alarm on his phone for a couple of hours from then and prepared to have some better rest. He replayed the memory of her walking out the door several times. “Was her ass fuller?” he thought. He felt his manhood rise up and announce that even if it was, it would be no problem. Sighing contentedly, he rolled over and caught up on some sleep. There was a smile on his cherubic face.
Want to have a story written by me? Send me a direct message and we'll discuss!
- Toby
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Mon Apr 01, 2013 1:24 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, Preg)
by Matt L. » Mon Oct 07, 2019 9:10 am
Thoroughly well written and entertaining, I'm enjoying this story very much.
Cheers, Matt
Cheers, Matt
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, Preg)
by Toby » Tue Oct 08, 2019 7:22 pm
Thanks, Matt!
Want to have a story written by me? Send me a direct message and we'll discuss!
- Toby
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Mon Apr 01, 2013 1:24 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Toby » Tue Oct 08, 2019 7:24 pm
Part Three
Frank pulled his 2014 Ford Taurus into the news station’s lot around twelve forty-five. The shocks showed that they were in need of replacement, especially on the driver’s side. Even on a weekend, he still had to park a ways out from the entrance.
Relieving his poor car of his girth, Frank stood and readjusted his clothes. He was feeling pretty good about himself today. After his nap and a refreshing shower, he was surprised to find a favored pair of slacks fit better than they ever have before. Same for a nice button-up that did not have to strain around his protruding middle. It surprised and delighted him. Hopping on the scale confirmed that he had lost ten pounds… somehow. But that did not matter to him. What mattered was what Mayra would think about it.
He flashed his ID to the security guard, a large black man named Herbert, that knew Frank on sight. The ID was for the cameras.
“Mornin’, Frank!” Herbert called as Frank waddled up. Herbert was in his fifties and carried a solid mass around his middle, much like Frank. Though not as much. He had a friendly, jowly face and a thick shock of gray and dark brown hair.
“Morning, Herb! Keeping them in line, eh?” Frank asked with a smile.
“Oh, ya know, gotta lay down the law wit’em every once and awhile. Unlike wit’ that wife o’ your’s,” Herb said, smiling back. He sipped on a coffee that clearly had not come from the studio’s break room. Next to it was the remains of a doughnut.
Frank looked oddly at Herbert. “What do you mean?”
Herbert laughed. “She comes in here with her coffee and doughnuts every morning. Always lays a cup and a couple sugary delights down as she walks passed. Keeps her on my good side.” Herbert winked at Frank, like it was some inside joke. Only Frank had no idea what Herbert was going on about.
“Uhhh… yeah, that’s my Mayra. Sneaking doughnuts to security. Are they…?” Frank asked, knowing Herbert would know the question he was asking.
“They just started a commercial break. Get yourself in there before the lights come up again,” Herbert said with a wave of his hand. Frank nodded and added a little hustle to his steps. His belly jiggled and pulled as he moved, which was not unusual. What was unusual was the fact he was not as out of breath as he would have been. Frank chalked that up to some decent sleep for a change.
As he approached the sound stage, he would have walked right passed his wife if it had not been for those anniversary chopsticks. Mayra was standing at the buffet table, loading up a plate of cheeses, crackers, and fruit. She was still decked out in what she left their house in that morning and the hair girl had not done anything crazy with Mayra’s hair. When he did notice her, he just froze and watched her.
The reason Frank had almost walked passed her was because she was fifty pounds heavier. Though Frank did not know the exact number, she was sitting at one hundred and eighty-six pounds, with the majority of her new-found mass having settled in her lower body. The first thing Frank noticed was the size of Mayra’s ass. It had gone from firm and pert to flabby and bloated, sticking out behind her like a tiny shelf. The second thing was her hip width and thick thighs, marking her as a heavy pear. By means Frank had no idea of, her clothing had grown with her, to an extent. The outline of her panties was clearly evident and that skirt looked like it needed to be upsized.
Mayra turned slightly to take a bite of a luscious-looking strawberry. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Frank noted that her jawline was just a touch softer, her lips just a touch plumper. As she turned more, Frank saw the doming potbelly pulling hard on the skirt’s front panels. The formerly loose blouse was looking a little tight up top, containing her ripe C-cup sized breasts. Even her upper arms had a little more jounce to them than they used to.
Staring at his chubby wife sucking on a strawberry was having a profound effect on Frank as well. He was loving it. Never in a million years would he have believed that his exercising, neurotic, work-obsessed wife would suddenly look like she needed to be shopping at Lane Bryant. It was her, without a doubt. He noted, with great discomfort, the sudden erection he had at looking at Mayra and he thanked whatever being he could think of that his slacks had been more forgiving for him today.
Mayra finished her turn and opened her eyes to see her husband standing there. Her face lit up with a Colgate-white smile again and bustled toward him as quick as her thighs would let her. Or skirt, Frank could not tell which was impeding her more.
“Hey, honey! You’re a little early, we’ve got one more segment to air, then I’m all yours!” she excitedly whispered into his ear, after kissing him. It was a good kiss, even if it was quick. It tasted like strawberries, naturally.
Frank looked at the paper plate covered in snack goods and shot her a look that clearly said, “You sure?”
Mayra giggled and rolled her eyes a little. “I just needed a little something to nosh on before lunch and this table has been calling my name all day. Been feeling hungry lately. Well, hungrier.” She giggled like a smitten school girl as she smoothed the loose fabric of the blouse around her potbelly.
A little mouse of a woman, clad in all black and with a huge headset on, came up to Mayra and squeaked, “Ma’am, we’re back in forty-five seconds.”
Mayra sighed, pecked Frank on his pudgy cheek, told him she loved him, and waddled off after the assistant. She maintained a firm hold of her plate as the assistant tried to take it away. Frank watched her juicy butt bounce away, relishing the moment.
Which was immediately interrupted by a cock-sure Jersey voice and a slap on the back.
“Frankie!” Matt Silver said as he came up on Frank’s right side. “Just the man I was hoping to see. Could we step into my office?” Silver then lead the way, expecting his request to be adhered to.
Frank gritted his teeth. Since the day he was introduced, Silver had insisted on calling Frank “Frankie,” like he was some mob guy. Frank wanted nothing more than to ignore Silver, but he was Mayra’s boss and producer. He needed to play nice for her career.
Silver was shorter than Frank by about five inches and had the usual Californian athletic body. Sun-crisped skin, blonde spiky hair, and perfect blue eyes that seemed to know nothing, but belied a keen and observant mind. A predator’s eyes, as Frank thought. Those matched that phony smile Silver always had on him. Frank begrudgingly admitted that the man dressed well; today was a pinstripe white on blue suit with a silver silk tie, his signature accessory that went with his silver jewelry. He knew the man looked better than him, which just made Frank dislike Silver even more.
Silver’s office was your standard fare; windows overlooking the parking lot, awards lining one wall for best news channel in the area for the last six years, comfy leather chairs for clients to sit in, a wet bar, and a big, imposing desk to remind everyone that entered who the boss was. Silver indicated to a chair for Frank to sit in, then sat in his chair on the other side. Frank grunted as his weight settled into the chair. He could feel his own hips brush against the arms and his belly rest on his lap.
“So, how’s life, Frankie?” Silver asked nonchalantly. Frank’s eyes narrowed. The man was never nonchalant. It tripped something in Frank’s mind, so he casually pulled out his phone as if he were checking a text, but really was setting it for video.
“Things are going well,” Frankie half-lied, laying the phone down on the arm rest. Up until five minutes ago, he would not have said that, but whatever it was that was happening to Mayra was a positive in his mind. He was not going to risk rocking that boat, no matter how weird it got.
“That’s swell, Frankie, real swell. Ummm… speaking of swelling, I’ve got to ask about Mayra. And I do beg your pardon for the… impropriety of this, but are you guys trying to get pregnant or something?” Silver broke out into a friendly chuckle and a small smile, neither of which seemed to reach his eyes.
Frank’s eyebrows shot up at that and his mouth dropped open a little bit. His brain was in shock; first, at the sheer nerve of this spiky-headed twerp, the second, at what should he say.
Silver’s hands immediately came up in a placating gesture. “Or is it something medical or something? Look, really, I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is this; over the last year, we’ve all started to notice that Mayra has been… changing dress sizes. And, before you say anything, I’m not a size-biased guy. Val, the other girl here on the weekends, is plump as well.”
Valerie “Val” Bowman had been the other lead anchor woman on the afternoon shift for the past three years. Blonde, maybe five-five, and had a natural set of double-D’s that helped distract from her thick waist. She and Kelly had been the “News with the Weekend Gal Pals, Kelly and Val!” It was a gimmick that worked; their success with it was part of the reason for the channel’s local awards, even if nobody thanked them for it.
Silver paused and licked his lips before forming his hands into a steeple. “But, here’s the deal: Mayra’s my golden girl. My golden goose, as it were.” He waved a hand towards the awards wall. “At first, it didn’t really matter. A little holiday cheer here, a little Saint Paddy’s drinking there, and it all was going to her as- I mean, beneath the view of the camera. But,” Silver leaned forward while bringing to point of the steeple to point at Frank, “it’s starting to show up on camera. I need her looking like a tough reporter, not an overfed housewife. And that, my big bud, is where you come in.”
Frank, whose patience was wearing incredibly thin, asked, “And how is that?”
Silver’s crocodilian smile emerged, showing off too many perfect teeth and not even remotely touching his eyes. “Either get her on a diet ASAP or get her pregnant, then get her on a diet. I don’t particularly care, just as long as one of those plans is enacted by the end of the year, my amigo. I’m willing to make it worth your while, Frankie.”
Frank’s entire body tensed, but he remembered to play it cool. This dirt bag was about to dig his own grave. All he needed was a shovel. “Define that for me.”
Silver shrugged and relaxed a bit back into his chair. “Well, for starter’s, she would remain gainfully employed, which I hear has significant benefits. Especially if you two go into the family business, as they say.”
That did it for Frank. He forcibly stood up, slammed his huge hands on the table, and leaned down over the weasel. “Not for all of the money in Beverly Hills, you gutless snake. What my wife and I are or are not doing is absolutely none of your business. And for you to call me in here and ask me to make my wife unhappy for your own profit, expecting me to just roll over and do it like I’m some fucking dog, makes me sick.”
Frank leaned forward some more while locking eyes with the jerk. “You remember how I met her, Silver? Hmm? I stopped a bank robber by tackling him. He broke four ribs. And he had a gun.” Frank stood up to full height and looked down his nose at Silver, who looked pathetically small. “Just remember that the next time you come to me and threaten my wife’s job over her beauty.”
Silver licked his lips again and worked his mouth a few times. Clearly, nobody had ever stood up to him like that before. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to look Frank in the eye. “I can make her life here pretty bad, Frankie. You’ve no idea what shit you’ve stepped in.”
Frank grabbed his phone and started to head out, but stopped at the door. He opened it just a bit, turned back, and said, “I think if you do that, you’ll find yourself in whole new realm of pain.” He then shook the phone at Silver. “Also, it’s Frank to my friends. It’s Mister Stein to you. Be seeing you, Silver.” And he walked out.
Frank was still peeved by the time he got back to the sound stage, where they were doing the signing off. He waited patiently for Mayra, who looked stunning under the lights of the stage. He found this to be an excellent time to take a breath and calm down before having lunch.
He was so glad he had thought to record that meeting. Silver knew he did not have clout he projected. Frank knew that there were two other producers, at least one executive, and the board of the media company that owned the station. If he wanted to go to war over Mayra’s expanding hips, Frank had the nuclear option ready to go. He quickly backed up the video and encrypted it from his phone. Bank manager he may be, but he had picked up some tricks from the IT guys.
By then, his lovely wife was bouncing her way towards him, her potbelly leading the way. Frank loved watching the roll just above her hip see-saw with every step. Again, his rod started to come to half-mast, as they say. Frank was loving this transformation. He could not help but to think, “You know, one more big meal in her and she will pop a seam on that skirt.” His smile widened as she came up to him and he pulled her into a big hug.
“Okay,” she said, stepping just a touch back to be able to look in him the face. “Where were you thinking?”
Frank grimaced. “I have no idea. I don’t normally get to eat over on this side of town. What’s good?”
Mayra pursed her lips together thoughtfully. “I’m still feeling a bit peckish. There’s a local joint that does Mongolian. I could definitely go for a bowl of that.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Frank said. “I’ll drive.” The two walked out of the studio, holding hands and smiling like newlyweds at each other. Frank had a feeling today was going to be a big day for Mayra and their relationship.
Frank pulled his 2014 Ford Taurus into the news station’s lot around twelve forty-five. The shocks showed that they were in need of replacement, especially on the driver’s side. Even on a weekend, he still had to park a ways out from the entrance.
Relieving his poor car of his girth, Frank stood and readjusted his clothes. He was feeling pretty good about himself today. After his nap and a refreshing shower, he was surprised to find a favored pair of slacks fit better than they ever have before. Same for a nice button-up that did not have to strain around his protruding middle. It surprised and delighted him. Hopping on the scale confirmed that he had lost ten pounds… somehow. But that did not matter to him. What mattered was what Mayra would think about it.
He flashed his ID to the security guard, a large black man named Herbert, that knew Frank on sight. The ID was for the cameras.
“Mornin’, Frank!” Herbert called as Frank waddled up. Herbert was in his fifties and carried a solid mass around his middle, much like Frank. Though not as much. He had a friendly, jowly face and a thick shock of gray and dark brown hair.
“Morning, Herb! Keeping them in line, eh?” Frank asked with a smile.
“Oh, ya know, gotta lay down the law wit’em every once and awhile. Unlike wit’ that wife o’ your’s,” Herb said, smiling back. He sipped on a coffee that clearly had not come from the studio’s break room. Next to it was the remains of a doughnut.
Frank looked oddly at Herbert. “What do you mean?”
Herbert laughed. “She comes in here with her coffee and doughnuts every morning. Always lays a cup and a couple sugary delights down as she walks passed. Keeps her on my good side.” Herbert winked at Frank, like it was some inside joke. Only Frank had no idea what Herbert was going on about.
“Uhhh… yeah, that’s my Mayra. Sneaking doughnuts to security. Are they…?” Frank asked, knowing Herbert would know the question he was asking.
“They just started a commercial break. Get yourself in there before the lights come up again,” Herbert said with a wave of his hand. Frank nodded and added a little hustle to his steps. His belly jiggled and pulled as he moved, which was not unusual. What was unusual was the fact he was not as out of breath as he would have been. Frank chalked that up to some decent sleep for a change.
As he approached the sound stage, he would have walked right passed his wife if it had not been for those anniversary chopsticks. Mayra was standing at the buffet table, loading up a plate of cheeses, crackers, and fruit. She was still decked out in what she left their house in that morning and the hair girl had not done anything crazy with Mayra’s hair. When he did notice her, he just froze and watched her.
The reason Frank had almost walked passed her was because she was fifty pounds heavier. Though Frank did not know the exact number, she was sitting at one hundred and eighty-six pounds, with the majority of her new-found mass having settled in her lower body. The first thing Frank noticed was the size of Mayra’s ass. It had gone from firm and pert to flabby and bloated, sticking out behind her like a tiny shelf. The second thing was her hip width and thick thighs, marking her as a heavy pear. By means Frank had no idea of, her clothing had grown with her, to an extent. The outline of her panties was clearly evident and that skirt looked like it needed to be upsized.
Mayra turned slightly to take a bite of a luscious-looking strawberry. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Frank noted that her jawline was just a touch softer, her lips just a touch plumper. As she turned more, Frank saw the doming potbelly pulling hard on the skirt’s front panels. The formerly loose blouse was looking a little tight up top, containing her ripe C-cup sized breasts. Even her upper arms had a little more jounce to them than they used to.
Staring at his chubby wife sucking on a strawberry was having a profound effect on Frank as well. He was loving it. Never in a million years would he have believed that his exercising, neurotic, work-obsessed wife would suddenly look like she needed to be shopping at Lane Bryant. It was her, without a doubt. He noted, with great discomfort, the sudden erection he had at looking at Mayra and he thanked whatever being he could think of that his slacks had been more forgiving for him today.
Mayra finished her turn and opened her eyes to see her husband standing there. Her face lit up with a Colgate-white smile again and bustled toward him as quick as her thighs would let her. Or skirt, Frank could not tell which was impeding her more.
“Hey, honey! You’re a little early, we’ve got one more segment to air, then I’m all yours!” she excitedly whispered into his ear, after kissing him. It was a good kiss, even if it was quick. It tasted like strawberries, naturally.
Frank looked at the paper plate covered in snack goods and shot her a look that clearly said, “You sure?”
Mayra giggled and rolled her eyes a little. “I just needed a little something to nosh on before lunch and this table has been calling my name all day. Been feeling hungry lately. Well, hungrier.” She giggled like a smitten school girl as she smoothed the loose fabric of the blouse around her potbelly.
A little mouse of a woman, clad in all black and with a huge headset on, came up to Mayra and squeaked, “Ma’am, we’re back in forty-five seconds.”
Mayra sighed, pecked Frank on his pudgy cheek, told him she loved him, and waddled off after the assistant. She maintained a firm hold of her plate as the assistant tried to take it away. Frank watched her juicy butt bounce away, relishing the moment.
Which was immediately interrupted by a cock-sure Jersey voice and a slap on the back.
“Frankie!” Matt Silver said as he came up on Frank’s right side. “Just the man I was hoping to see. Could we step into my office?” Silver then lead the way, expecting his request to be adhered to.
Frank gritted his teeth. Since the day he was introduced, Silver had insisted on calling Frank “Frankie,” like he was some mob guy. Frank wanted nothing more than to ignore Silver, but he was Mayra’s boss and producer. He needed to play nice for her career.
Silver was shorter than Frank by about five inches and had the usual Californian athletic body. Sun-crisped skin, blonde spiky hair, and perfect blue eyes that seemed to know nothing, but belied a keen and observant mind. A predator’s eyes, as Frank thought. Those matched that phony smile Silver always had on him. Frank begrudgingly admitted that the man dressed well; today was a pinstripe white on blue suit with a silver silk tie, his signature accessory that went with his silver jewelry. He knew the man looked better than him, which just made Frank dislike Silver even more.
Silver’s office was your standard fare; windows overlooking the parking lot, awards lining one wall for best news channel in the area for the last six years, comfy leather chairs for clients to sit in, a wet bar, and a big, imposing desk to remind everyone that entered who the boss was. Silver indicated to a chair for Frank to sit in, then sat in his chair on the other side. Frank grunted as his weight settled into the chair. He could feel his own hips brush against the arms and his belly rest on his lap.
“So, how’s life, Frankie?” Silver asked nonchalantly. Frank’s eyes narrowed. The man was never nonchalant. It tripped something in Frank’s mind, so he casually pulled out his phone as if he were checking a text, but really was setting it for video.
“Things are going well,” Frankie half-lied, laying the phone down on the arm rest. Up until five minutes ago, he would not have said that, but whatever it was that was happening to Mayra was a positive in his mind. He was not going to risk rocking that boat, no matter how weird it got.
“That’s swell, Frankie, real swell. Ummm… speaking of swelling, I’ve got to ask about Mayra. And I do beg your pardon for the… impropriety of this, but are you guys trying to get pregnant or something?” Silver broke out into a friendly chuckle and a small smile, neither of which seemed to reach his eyes.
Frank’s eyebrows shot up at that and his mouth dropped open a little bit. His brain was in shock; first, at the sheer nerve of this spiky-headed twerp, the second, at what should he say.
Silver’s hands immediately came up in a placating gesture. “Or is it something medical or something? Look, really, I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is this; over the last year, we’ve all started to notice that Mayra has been… changing dress sizes. And, before you say anything, I’m not a size-biased guy. Val, the other girl here on the weekends, is plump as well.”
Valerie “Val” Bowman had been the other lead anchor woman on the afternoon shift for the past three years. Blonde, maybe five-five, and had a natural set of double-D’s that helped distract from her thick waist. She and Kelly had been the “News with the Weekend Gal Pals, Kelly and Val!” It was a gimmick that worked; their success with it was part of the reason for the channel’s local awards, even if nobody thanked them for it.
Silver paused and licked his lips before forming his hands into a steeple. “But, here’s the deal: Mayra’s my golden girl. My golden goose, as it were.” He waved a hand towards the awards wall. “At first, it didn’t really matter. A little holiday cheer here, a little Saint Paddy’s drinking there, and it all was going to her as- I mean, beneath the view of the camera. But,” Silver leaned forward while bringing to point of the steeple to point at Frank, “it’s starting to show up on camera. I need her looking like a tough reporter, not an overfed housewife. And that, my big bud, is where you come in.”
Frank, whose patience was wearing incredibly thin, asked, “And how is that?”
Silver’s crocodilian smile emerged, showing off too many perfect teeth and not even remotely touching his eyes. “Either get her on a diet ASAP or get her pregnant, then get her on a diet. I don’t particularly care, just as long as one of those plans is enacted by the end of the year, my amigo. I’m willing to make it worth your while, Frankie.”
Frank’s entire body tensed, but he remembered to play it cool. This dirt bag was about to dig his own grave. All he needed was a shovel. “Define that for me.”
Silver shrugged and relaxed a bit back into his chair. “Well, for starter’s, she would remain gainfully employed, which I hear has significant benefits. Especially if you two go into the family business, as they say.”
That did it for Frank. He forcibly stood up, slammed his huge hands on the table, and leaned down over the weasel. “Not for all of the money in Beverly Hills, you gutless snake. What my wife and I are or are not doing is absolutely none of your business. And for you to call me in here and ask me to make my wife unhappy for your own profit, expecting me to just roll over and do it like I’m some fucking dog, makes me sick.”
Frank leaned forward some more while locking eyes with the jerk. “You remember how I met her, Silver? Hmm? I stopped a bank robber by tackling him. He broke four ribs. And he had a gun.” Frank stood up to full height and looked down his nose at Silver, who looked pathetically small. “Just remember that the next time you come to me and threaten my wife’s job over her beauty.”
Silver licked his lips again and worked his mouth a few times. Clearly, nobody had ever stood up to him like that before. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to look Frank in the eye. “I can make her life here pretty bad, Frankie. You’ve no idea what shit you’ve stepped in.”
Frank grabbed his phone and started to head out, but stopped at the door. He opened it just a bit, turned back, and said, “I think if you do that, you’ll find yourself in whole new realm of pain.” He then shook the phone at Silver. “Also, it’s Frank to my friends. It’s Mister Stein to you. Be seeing you, Silver.” And he walked out.
Frank was still peeved by the time he got back to the sound stage, where they were doing the signing off. He waited patiently for Mayra, who looked stunning under the lights of the stage. He found this to be an excellent time to take a breath and calm down before having lunch.
He was so glad he had thought to record that meeting. Silver knew he did not have clout he projected. Frank knew that there were two other producers, at least one executive, and the board of the media company that owned the station. If he wanted to go to war over Mayra’s expanding hips, Frank had the nuclear option ready to go. He quickly backed up the video and encrypted it from his phone. Bank manager he may be, but he had picked up some tricks from the IT guys.
By then, his lovely wife was bouncing her way towards him, her potbelly leading the way. Frank loved watching the roll just above her hip see-saw with every step. Again, his rod started to come to half-mast, as they say. Frank was loving this transformation. He could not help but to think, “You know, one more big meal in her and she will pop a seam on that skirt.” His smile widened as she came up to him and he pulled her into a big hug.
“Okay,” she said, stepping just a touch back to be able to look in him the face. “Where were you thinking?”
Frank grimaced. “I have no idea. I don’t normally get to eat over on this side of town. What’s good?”
Mayra pursed her lips together thoughtfully. “I’m still feeling a bit peckish. There’s a local joint that does Mongolian. I could definitely go for a bowl of that.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Frank said. “I’ll drive.” The two walked out of the studio, holding hands and smiling like newlyweds at each other. Frank had a feeling today was going to be a big day for Mayra and their relationship.
Want to have a story written by me? Send me a direct message and we'll discuss!
- Toby
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Mon Apr 01, 2013 1:24 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Matt L. » Thu Oct 10, 2019 11:25 pm
Superb addition, well done!
Cheers, Matt
Cheers, Matt
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Junketh71 » Sat Oct 19, 2019 2:08 pm
What an interesting story. Thanks for sharing it!
- Junketh71
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1268
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 7:49 am
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Toby » Wed Oct 23, 2019 7:03 pm
Part 4
The outlet mall that had Beefy Stu’s Mongolian Bowls was a bit busier than the Steins had anticipated, so Frank had to park a little ways out. Mayra huffed as she fought her skirt across the parking lot.
“Ugh...” she groaned as she adjusted the waistband for the upteenth time. “I know I’ve put on a few, but damn, I’m about to blow this skirt. You could have mentioned this thing was so tight this morning, big guy.”
Frank barely registered what she said, focusing more on the size of her ass and how much he wanted to yank that piece of cloth down and take her. Though they had both walked at a brisk pace, Frank was not feeling the effect. His legs felt like they were getting into a warm-up, rather than having to haul his mass.
But, he managed a response. “It just looked so damn good on you this morning. I had to see it for the rest of the day.”
“Uh-huh. Thankfully,” Mayra huffed, “Stu’s is right here.” She waved an arm in the direction of a corner shop. She failed to notice the slight jiggle of her upper arm as she did so, but it did not escape Frank’s attention. He noted every jiggle and sway of her plumped body on the drive over.
The restaurant was moderately packed, but they caught a lucky break and were able to immediately start loading bowls. Stu’s only offered one bowl size, but it was all-you-could-eat, custom Mongolian. Three different noodle types and a variety of toppings, plus a whole section devoted to all kinds of different sauces allowed for any body to come in and make what they wanted. Frank saw Mayra wipe just a bit of saliva from the corner of her mouth.
Mayra loaded up a bowl of thin lo mein, then covered it in as many meats as she could physically put into the bowl, then tried some vegetables. The bowl was five inches in diameter and three deep, and somehow Mayra managed to make a sphere of food stay in her bowl. She loaded it up with teriyaki and soy sauces, claiming she did not want any heat to be dealing with at work later. Frank, for his part, was much more modest in his portion, but opted for the spicier General Tso’s sauce.
Soon, they were up to Beefy Stu. He was a stout Asian-American, barely five-ten, and weighed more than Frank. He was standing at the big, circular flattop station at the end of the buffet line. He had his traditional blacks on, but a white chef hat sat crookedly on his bald head. His jowly face lit up when he saw Mayra.
“Hiya, girlfriend! Been a hot minute. Where’s your gal pal?” he asked in a high, chipper voice.
“Oh, I came with my husband this time. Stu, this is Frank. Frank, Stu,” she said as she handed over her bowl.
“Ah, the enigmatic husband Frank. Heard a lot about you from this one,” Stu said as he dumped the contents onto the sizzling hot flat top.
Frank was a bit puzzled and he did his best to roll with it. Handing Stu his own bowl, he said, “Yes, you too. Mayra insisted we come here for lunch.” That was mostly the truth and he assumed he would have heard more about Stu, had things progressed naturally.
“Did she now? Well, in that case, this one’s on me. Though, I should be careful. Your wife has developed quite the appreciation for my cooking.” Frank caught the hint of a sparkle in the cook’s squinted eyes, while Mayra’s honey complexion deepened with a shade of red.
“Oh, shut up, Stu. If you didn’t make the best Mongolian bowls in the area of the station, my skirts wouldn’t feel like their cutting me two.” She readjusted the waistband around her hip again. She had completely filled out her blouse as well, Frank noticed. Poor Mayra looked poured into her outfit. Or, more importantly, like she was about to pop out of it. But Frank had not pieced that together.
Stu let out a genuine belly laugh, his forefront bouncing up and down. “Sure. Voted best Mongolian restaurant, three years running. My cooking and the cookie place across the way. You’d be quite slim and trim if Val hadn’t brought you in here a year ago.”
Stu quickly mixed up their ingredients and, in what felt like no time, Frank and Mayra had two steaming piles of food in front of them at a table by one of the glass walls. Mayra had been right, Stu could definitely make some damn good Mongolian.
“So,” Mayra said after a bite or two, “I saw you coming out Matt’s office. What did he want?”
Frank noticed the bit of heat she added at the end of her question and knew there was no way he was going to tell her what that dirt bag said about her. “Oh, umm...” he stammered as he tried to think of a plausible reason. “He… was just wanting to know what we were going as to the party tomorrow. I told him as the Frankenstein monsters again.”
Mayra nodded as she chewed. “Well, I’ve got some news today. That bastard is looking to demote me. So I needed to be sure he wasn’t giving you any grief. After everything,” she said, taking another large bite. She seemed to be picking up the pace in her anger. Swallowing, she started again. “After everything I’ve done for this channel, and for him, just because I’ve gotten a bit chubby.” She slapped one of her thighs and a frown came across her beautiful face. “Well, maybe a bit more than that.”
Her mood soured and she dug in with greater gusto. Conversation paused as the two ate. Frank was not sure how to cheer up his wife and he pondered that as he watched her eat and admired her form. He particularly loved the way her hips spread out beneath her to the edges of the chair and the way her starter potbelly rested in her plump lap.
Soon, his bowl was empty and his appetite was sated. His wife, on the other hand, leaned back in her chair, patted her food baby, sighed, and asked, “You feeling like seconds?”
That got Frank’s attention. Mayra had never ever wanted seconds, even if she really liked the food. She was always claiming, “The camera already adds ten pounds. I don’t need to add them for it.” This Mayra, however, was ten pounds heavier than when they had been at the station. Frank did not know that his wife was less than a literal stone’s throw away from the big two hundred mark and he decided now might be a good time to mention the change in her attitude.
“I thought you tried to avoid having seconds? After what Silver…?” he asked cautiously.
Mayra shrugged. The movement did wonderful things to her ripening chest. “First, fuck him. And, yeah, well, try as I might, my hunger has been getting to me. I would die of embarrassment if my stomach growled while we were on the air, so best to keep the beast fed.” She smiled over at him and placed a hand on his hand, just like she had a breakfast this morning. Only it was not quite as dainty as it had been this morning.
“Besides, I don’t hear you complaining about there being a little extra cushion for the pushin’, dear.”
Frank’s manhood swelled in his slacks again at her touch and the thought of getting all of this new Mayra on top of him. He coughed as if to clear his throat and smoothed his crazy hair again. He could feel his own cheeks turning red and chuckled. “Well… no… of course not. It would be impolite of me to say anything.”
Mayra giggled. “That’s what I thought. Now, I’m getting seconds, then we can go.” She gave a slight grunt and heaved herself out of her chair.
Frank could not keep his eyes of his chubby wife as she made her way through the line a second time. Everything about her outfit screamed that she needed to start buying a size up; from the way her love handles and belly pulled the blouse skintight even after she pulled it out of the skirt to the way her ass demanded attention with its prominent panty lines. As she scooped more food into a bowl, her little belly inched out over the counter top. It got Frank thinking about this morning’s conversation and steeled himself to have the conversation once she got back to the table.
He listened to Mayra and Stu talk as she waited for her second bowl to grill up.
“So, how’s Dave?” she asked.
Stu chuckled. “Running his ass off, like usual. But, I can’t complain. One of us should be fit and it works for him. I’m just the big panda bear.”
Mayra chuckled with him and put a hand on her wide hip. “Well, that’s great to hear. He doing the Children’s Five-K next week?”
Stu nodded as he stirred up Mayra’s food. “Yep. I was surprised that you weren’t doing it this year. What’s up with that?”
Mayra half-smiled and fidgeted with the waistband again. “Oh… you know, just got a little busy this year. Next year, I’ll be there.”
Stu shot a glance over to Frank, then leaned over the serving counter back toward Mayra and whispered something. Mayra smiled and looked over at Frank too, who looked hurriedly away. Both Stu and Mayra giggled, like schoolgirls. Then Stu got Mayra’s food back to her and she headed back to their table.
“See anything you like?” she said as she plopped down. Her breasts bounced against the tight confines of her bra. She had a sly smile on her face and a devious twinkle in her eyes.
Frank coughed uncomfortably again. “Well… uhh… yeah?” he asked nervously.
Mayra laughed again. “It’s always so great to mess with you.” She started in on her second helping, giving Frank a moment to collect his thoughts. A waiter came by and refilled their drinks.
“So,” he said after a moment, “I was thinking about our conversation this morning.”
Mayra held up a finger as she slurped down a large piece of pork and lo mein. It took her moment, but finally she was able to get out, “Whaf confershion?”
Frank steeled himself and said, “When we could start trying for a baby.”
Mayra nodded in understanding and finished her bite. “Oh… that.” She set her utensils down and took a breath. “Look, Frank, right now just isn’t a good time. I need to get off the chopping block and the best way to do that is get my appetite under control. I know what I said a moment ago about Matt and having seconds, but the fact is, I’ve gained fifty-five pounds since last summer and it can’t continue.”
Mayra could see the look of hurt on Frank’s face and tried to ease the pain. “Look, I’m not saying never, alright? After the holidays, I’m going on a significant diet and, more than likely, I’m going to try to find work at one of the other stations. Give me the year to get all of those ducks in a line, then we can come back to this discussion, okay?”
Frank nodded, dejected again. He could see there was no point in fighting her on it. “Yeah, I guess that can work,” he said finally with varying levels of heat and rejection in his voice.
Mayra opened her mouth to say something else, but could see that continuing would just make her husband feel worse about it. She went back to her food and waited for Frank to come back around.
It took a while, but they eventually got back to having a good time together. Soon, Mayra’s second plate was gone and she leaned back again. Her stomach looked huge and bloated from the two heavy meals she had stuffed into it. The checkered squares across her belly and love handles had become distorted from being stretched so taut.
“Oookay,” she finally muttered as she glanced at her phone. “Let me just digest this, then get me back to the station. I’ve got a story or two to go over before the evening news.”
“Sure,” Frank said. His eyes zeroed in on the sliver of caramel-colored flesh that was peeking out over the waistband of her skirt. He could feel how badly he wanted his wife to come home instead, but knew that was would not be the case. He waved the server down to ask for the receipt, but the young woman just shook her head.
“Stu said not to charge you,” she answered bubbly.
Frank nodded, then pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “As a tip then. For your service.”
The server’s blue eyes lit up and she discreetly took the money while mouthing, “Thank you.” Frank gave a consolatory bow of his head.
Mayra smiled at Frank as the server walked away. “That was good of you.”
Frank shrugged. “We could afford it. She can’t.”
Mayra nodded once, then started to remove herself from her chair. However, as she twisted to the right to leverage herself up, her poor skirt gave up the fight against her widening body.
POP! POP! SHREEE!
Mayra’s right hand flew to her hip and her pudgy face went beet red. “Oh, God...” she whispered. She clamped her hand down over her plump hip and shot an embarrassed look toward Frank. He, for his part, was looking back at her with as stoic of a look as possible. He had heard the rip and did not want his wife to see him laughing at her.
“Frank,” she whispered urgently. “We need to go shopping before I go back to the station. I just ripped my skirt.” She stood up cautiously, her hand still clamped around her hip. Even so, the rip had traveled down quite a way, which left about two inches of deeply tanned thigh.
“We really need to leave,” she said as she hustled as quick as she dared toward the exit.
Frank hefted himself up, feeling his own belly bounce and moved to catch up. Just not too fast. He was enjoying the view. Mayra’s plump behind jostled and swayed as her thighs quaked with every footfall.
“I can’t believe I split my skirt,” she said in a hushed voice. Her face was beet red, though it was tough to tell if it was from embarrassment or exertion. “I know this skirt was tight this morning, but shit, this is too much. I know I said after the holidays, but fuck that.” She turned into the entrance of a Lane Bryant. “I’m having to shop here. But not for long.”
She marched into the store and went directly for the dresses section, with Frank following diligently behind. Mayra rifled through some short-sleeved sheath dresses, muttering about not being able to wear something too loose. She huffed as she grabbed a floral size twelve and made a direct path for the changing rooms.
Frank, not wanting to look like a mook, started glancing at other outfits in the store. He was at it for a couple of minutes until he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Going around his belly, he got it out and saw that the caller was Mayra.
“Yes?” he answered.
A loud huff came across the other end. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need you to find a fourteen of this dress. I can’t get this one over my hips. And I need you to do it quickly, Frank. I need to get back pronto.”
“Okay, okay, let me find it,” he said as he ambled back over to the dress section. However, either Mayra hung up on him or the call was dropped, because there was no response. Sighing, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and dug into the section.
However, the dress at the very front caught his eye. Same style as the one Mayra had pulled, but a massively different size. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the tag. It read back as a twenty-six. Frank pulled it from the rack and held it out at arm’s length.
“Man, if she had been eating like today since we got married, she’d easily be wearing this. Or, perhaps, even outgrowing it,” he thought strongly. He could almost imagine his wife stretching this dress out to its limit.
She stood before him with a completely round face, thick upper arms, heavy breasts, a bi-folding gut, with a set of wide hips and thick as tree thighs to support her. He wanted to take this fat beauty, strip her down, and have wild animal sex with her. His dick responded by causing a near-painful shrinkage in his boxers. That brought him out of his daydream and he shook his head. “Dude, you’ve got to get it together,” he thought as he put the dress back and continued his search.
Unfortunately, he came up empty for a size fourteen. the next smallest size available was a sixteen. He hoped she would not look to closely at the tag and hustled over to the changing room to switch out the dresses.
A few minutes later, Mayra came out with another frown on her face. It was obvious the dress was a bit loose up top, but it fit her perfectly in the hips. The hemline fell just to her knees. She came over to him and hurriedly whispered, “How did you know a sixteen would fit?”
Frank shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t, there wasn’t a fourteen available in that style.”
Mayra huffed again, her soft face red from exertion. “Damn… Well, can’t do anything about it now. I’ll just have to have one of the girls take the top in. But I’m not going passed this size. My diet starts tomorrow.” With that, she marched up to the counter to explain why she needed to wear the dress out and to pay for it.
Thankfully, the plus size gal behind the counter, a big bellied brunette named Jessica, was completely understanding. Though, when Mayra asked about their return policy, Jessica had to give some bad news.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the sale on this one is final. It’s from our half-off inventory,” she said sheepishly.
Mayra sighed. “No, it’s alright. It’ll be good to keep around. As a reminder.”
The purchase finalized, the plumped reporter and her husband made their way back to the car. But not before Frank took one last glance at that size twenty-six again. Once more, the heavier Mayra was in his mind and he had to shake his head to clear the thought.
“But, man,” he thought as he watched his wife’s actual ass sway side-to-side before him, “it would be something to behold.”
The outlet mall that had Beefy Stu’s Mongolian Bowls was a bit busier than the Steins had anticipated, so Frank had to park a little ways out. Mayra huffed as she fought her skirt across the parking lot.
“Ugh...” she groaned as she adjusted the waistband for the upteenth time. “I know I’ve put on a few, but damn, I’m about to blow this skirt. You could have mentioned this thing was so tight this morning, big guy.”
Frank barely registered what she said, focusing more on the size of her ass and how much he wanted to yank that piece of cloth down and take her. Though they had both walked at a brisk pace, Frank was not feeling the effect. His legs felt like they were getting into a warm-up, rather than having to haul his mass.
But, he managed a response. “It just looked so damn good on you this morning. I had to see it for the rest of the day.”
“Uh-huh. Thankfully,” Mayra huffed, “Stu’s is right here.” She waved an arm in the direction of a corner shop. She failed to notice the slight jiggle of her upper arm as she did so, but it did not escape Frank’s attention. He noted every jiggle and sway of her plumped body on the drive over.
The restaurant was moderately packed, but they caught a lucky break and were able to immediately start loading bowls. Stu’s only offered one bowl size, but it was all-you-could-eat, custom Mongolian. Three different noodle types and a variety of toppings, plus a whole section devoted to all kinds of different sauces allowed for any body to come in and make what they wanted. Frank saw Mayra wipe just a bit of saliva from the corner of her mouth.
Mayra loaded up a bowl of thin lo mein, then covered it in as many meats as she could physically put into the bowl, then tried some vegetables. The bowl was five inches in diameter and three deep, and somehow Mayra managed to make a sphere of food stay in her bowl. She loaded it up with teriyaki and soy sauces, claiming she did not want any heat to be dealing with at work later. Frank, for his part, was much more modest in his portion, but opted for the spicier General Tso’s sauce.
Soon, they were up to Beefy Stu. He was a stout Asian-American, barely five-ten, and weighed more than Frank. He was standing at the big, circular flattop station at the end of the buffet line. He had his traditional blacks on, but a white chef hat sat crookedly on his bald head. His jowly face lit up when he saw Mayra.
“Hiya, girlfriend! Been a hot minute. Where’s your gal pal?” he asked in a high, chipper voice.
“Oh, I came with my husband this time. Stu, this is Frank. Frank, Stu,” she said as she handed over her bowl.
“Ah, the enigmatic husband Frank. Heard a lot about you from this one,” Stu said as he dumped the contents onto the sizzling hot flat top.
Frank was a bit puzzled and he did his best to roll with it. Handing Stu his own bowl, he said, “Yes, you too. Mayra insisted we come here for lunch.” That was mostly the truth and he assumed he would have heard more about Stu, had things progressed naturally.
“Did she now? Well, in that case, this one’s on me. Though, I should be careful. Your wife has developed quite the appreciation for my cooking.” Frank caught the hint of a sparkle in the cook’s squinted eyes, while Mayra’s honey complexion deepened with a shade of red.
“Oh, shut up, Stu. If you didn’t make the best Mongolian bowls in the area of the station, my skirts wouldn’t feel like their cutting me two.” She readjusted the waistband around her hip again. She had completely filled out her blouse as well, Frank noticed. Poor Mayra looked poured into her outfit. Or, more importantly, like she was about to pop out of it. But Frank had not pieced that together.
Stu let out a genuine belly laugh, his forefront bouncing up and down. “Sure. Voted best Mongolian restaurant, three years running. My cooking and the cookie place across the way. You’d be quite slim and trim if Val hadn’t brought you in here a year ago.”
Stu quickly mixed up their ingredients and, in what felt like no time, Frank and Mayra had two steaming piles of food in front of them at a table by one of the glass walls. Mayra had been right, Stu could definitely make some damn good Mongolian.
“So,” Mayra said after a bite or two, “I saw you coming out Matt’s office. What did he want?”
Frank noticed the bit of heat she added at the end of her question and knew there was no way he was going to tell her what that dirt bag said about her. “Oh, umm...” he stammered as he tried to think of a plausible reason. “He… was just wanting to know what we were going as to the party tomorrow. I told him as the Frankenstein monsters again.”
Mayra nodded as she chewed. “Well, I’ve got some news today. That bastard is looking to demote me. So I needed to be sure he wasn’t giving you any grief. After everything,” she said, taking another large bite. She seemed to be picking up the pace in her anger. Swallowing, she started again. “After everything I’ve done for this channel, and for him, just because I’ve gotten a bit chubby.” She slapped one of her thighs and a frown came across her beautiful face. “Well, maybe a bit more than that.”
Her mood soured and she dug in with greater gusto. Conversation paused as the two ate. Frank was not sure how to cheer up his wife and he pondered that as he watched her eat and admired her form. He particularly loved the way her hips spread out beneath her to the edges of the chair and the way her starter potbelly rested in her plump lap.
Soon, his bowl was empty and his appetite was sated. His wife, on the other hand, leaned back in her chair, patted her food baby, sighed, and asked, “You feeling like seconds?”
That got Frank’s attention. Mayra had never ever wanted seconds, even if she really liked the food. She was always claiming, “The camera already adds ten pounds. I don’t need to add them for it.” This Mayra, however, was ten pounds heavier than when they had been at the station. Frank did not know that his wife was less than a literal stone’s throw away from the big two hundred mark and he decided now might be a good time to mention the change in her attitude.
“I thought you tried to avoid having seconds? After what Silver…?” he asked cautiously.
Mayra shrugged. The movement did wonderful things to her ripening chest. “First, fuck him. And, yeah, well, try as I might, my hunger has been getting to me. I would die of embarrassment if my stomach growled while we were on the air, so best to keep the beast fed.” She smiled over at him and placed a hand on his hand, just like she had a breakfast this morning. Only it was not quite as dainty as it had been this morning.
“Besides, I don’t hear you complaining about there being a little extra cushion for the pushin’, dear.”
Frank’s manhood swelled in his slacks again at her touch and the thought of getting all of this new Mayra on top of him. He coughed as if to clear his throat and smoothed his crazy hair again. He could feel his own cheeks turning red and chuckled. “Well… no… of course not. It would be impolite of me to say anything.”
Mayra giggled. “That’s what I thought. Now, I’m getting seconds, then we can go.” She gave a slight grunt and heaved herself out of her chair.
Frank could not keep his eyes of his chubby wife as she made her way through the line a second time. Everything about her outfit screamed that she needed to start buying a size up; from the way her love handles and belly pulled the blouse skintight even after she pulled it out of the skirt to the way her ass demanded attention with its prominent panty lines. As she scooped more food into a bowl, her little belly inched out over the counter top. It got Frank thinking about this morning’s conversation and steeled himself to have the conversation once she got back to the table.
He listened to Mayra and Stu talk as she waited for her second bowl to grill up.
“So, how’s Dave?” she asked.
Stu chuckled. “Running his ass off, like usual. But, I can’t complain. One of us should be fit and it works for him. I’m just the big panda bear.”
Mayra chuckled with him and put a hand on her wide hip. “Well, that’s great to hear. He doing the Children’s Five-K next week?”
Stu nodded as he stirred up Mayra’s food. “Yep. I was surprised that you weren’t doing it this year. What’s up with that?”
Mayra half-smiled and fidgeted with the waistband again. “Oh… you know, just got a little busy this year. Next year, I’ll be there.”
Stu shot a glance over to Frank, then leaned over the serving counter back toward Mayra and whispered something. Mayra smiled and looked over at Frank too, who looked hurriedly away. Both Stu and Mayra giggled, like schoolgirls. Then Stu got Mayra’s food back to her and she headed back to their table.
“See anything you like?” she said as she plopped down. Her breasts bounced against the tight confines of her bra. She had a sly smile on her face and a devious twinkle in her eyes.
Frank coughed uncomfortably again. “Well… uhh… yeah?” he asked nervously.
Mayra laughed again. “It’s always so great to mess with you.” She started in on her second helping, giving Frank a moment to collect his thoughts. A waiter came by and refilled their drinks.
“So,” he said after a moment, “I was thinking about our conversation this morning.”
Mayra held up a finger as she slurped down a large piece of pork and lo mein. It took her moment, but finally she was able to get out, “Whaf confershion?”
Frank steeled himself and said, “When we could start trying for a baby.”
Mayra nodded in understanding and finished her bite. “Oh… that.” She set her utensils down and took a breath. “Look, Frank, right now just isn’t a good time. I need to get off the chopping block and the best way to do that is get my appetite under control. I know what I said a moment ago about Matt and having seconds, but the fact is, I’ve gained fifty-five pounds since last summer and it can’t continue.”
Mayra could see the look of hurt on Frank’s face and tried to ease the pain. “Look, I’m not saying never, alright? After the holidays, I’m going on a significant diet and, more than likely, I’m going to try to find work at one of the other stations. Give me the year to get all of those ducks in a line, then we can come back to this discussion, okay?”
Frank nodded, dejected again. He could see there was no point in fighting her on it. “Yeah, I guess that can work,” he said finally with varying levels of heat and rejection in his voice.
Mayra opened her mouth to say something else, but could see that continuing would just make her husband feel worse about it. She went back to her food and waited for Frank to come back around.
It took a while, but they eventually got back to having a good time together. Soon, Mayra’s second plate was gone and she leaned back again. Her stomach looked huge and bloated from the two heavy meals she had stuffed into it. The checkered squares across her belly and love handles had become distorted from being stretched so taut.
“Oookay,” she finally muttered as she glanced at her phone. “Let me just digest this, then get me back to the station. I’ve got a story or two to go over before the evening news.”
“Sure,” Frank said. His eyes zeroed in on the sliver of caramel-colored flesh that was peeking out over the waistband of her skirt. He could feel how badly he wanted his wife to come home instead, but knew that was would not be the case. He waved the server down to ask for the receipt, but the young woman just shook her head.
“Stu said not to charge you,” she answered bubbly.
Frank nodded, then pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “As a tip then. For your service.”
The server’s blue eyes lit up and she discreetly took the money while mouthing, “Thank you.” Frank gave a consolatory bow of his head.
Mayra smiled at Frank as the server walked away. “That was good of you.”
Frank shrugged. “We could afford it. She can’t.”
Mayra nodded once, then started to remove herself from her chair. However, as she twisted to the right to leverage herself up, her poor skirt gave up the fight against her widening body.
POP! POP! SHREEE!
Mayra’s right hand flew to her hip and her pudgy face went beet red. “Oh, God...” she whispered. She clamped her hand down over her plump hip and shot an embarrassed look toward Frank. He, for his part, was looking back at her with as stoic of a look as possible. He had heard the rip and did not want his wife to see him laughing at her.
“Frank,” she whispered urgently. “We need to go shopping before I go back to the station. I just ripped my skirt.” She stood up cautiously, her hand still clamped around her hip. Even so, the rip had traveled down quite a way, which left about two inches of deeply tanned thigh.
“We really need to leave,” she said as she hustled as quick as she dared toward the exit.
Frank hefted himself up, feeling his own belly bounce and moved to catch up. Just not too fast. He was enjoying the view. Mayra’s plump behind jostled and swayed as her thighs quaked with every footfall.
“I can’t believe I split my skirt,” she said in a hushed voice. Her face was beet red, though it was tough to tell if it was from embarrassment or exertion. “I know this skirt was tight this morning, but shit, this is too much. I know I said after the holidays, but fuck that.” She turned into the entrance of a Lane Bryant. “I’m having to shop here. But not for long.”
She marched into the store and went directly for the dresses section, with Frank following diligently behind. Mayra rifled through some short-sleeved sheath dresses, muttering about not being able to wear something too loose. She huffed as she grabbed a floral size twelve and made a direct path for the changing rooms.
Frank, not wanting to look like a mook, started glancing at other outfits in the store. He was at it for a couple of minutes until he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Going around his belly, he got it out and saw that the caller was Mayra.
“Yes?” he answered.
A loud huff came across the other end. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need you to find a fourteen of this dress. I can’t get this one over my hips. And I need you to do it quickly, Frank. I need to get back pronto.”
“Okay, okay, let me find it,” he said as he ambled back over to the dress section. However, either Mayra hung up on him or the call was dropped, because there was no response. Sighing, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and dug into the section.
However, the dress at the very front caught his eye. Same style as the one Mayra had pulled, but a massively different size. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the tag. It read back as a twenty-six. Frank pulled it from the rack and held it out at arm’s length.
“Man, if she had been eating like today since we got married, she’d easily be wearing this. Or, perhaps, even outgrowing it,” he thought strongly. He could almost imagine his wife stretching this dress out to its limit.
She stood before him with a completely round face, thick upper arms, heavy breasts, a bi-folding gut, with a set of wide hips and thick as tree thighs to support her. He wanted to take this fat beauty, strip her down, and have wild animal sex with her. His dick responded by causing a near-painful shrinkage in his boxers. That brought him out of his daydream and he shook his head. “Dude, you’ve got to get it together,” he thought as he put the dress back and continued his search.
Unfortunately, he came up empty for a size fourteen. the next smallest size available was a sixteen. He hoped she would not look to closely at the tag and hustled over to the changing room to switch out the dresses.
A few minutes later, Mayra came out with another frown on her face. It was obvious the dress was a bit loose up top, but it fit her perfectly in the hips. The hemline fell just to her knees. She came over to him and hurriedly whispered, “How did you know a sixteen would fit?”
Frank shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t, there wasn’t a fourteen available in that style.”
Mayra huffed again, her soft face red from exertion. “Damn… Well, can’t do anything about it now. I’ll just have to have one of the girls take the top in. But I’m not going passed this size. My diet starts tomorrow.” With that, she marched up to the counter to explain why she needed to wear the dress out and to pay for it.
Thankfully, the plus size gal behind the counter, a big bellied brunette named Jessica, was completely understanding. Though, when Mayra asked about their return policy, Jessica had to give some bad news.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the sale on this one is final. It’s from our half-off inventory,” she said sheepishly.
Mayra sighed. “No, it’s alright. It’ll be good to keep around. As a reminder.”
The purchase finalized, the plumped reporter and her husband made their way back to the car. But not before Frank took one last glance at that size twenty-six again. Once more, the heavier Mayra was in his mind and he had to shake his head to clear the thought.
“But, man,” he thought as he watched his wife’s actual ass sway side-to-side before him, “it would be something to behold.”
Want to have a story written by me? Send me a direct message and we'll discuss!
- Toby
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Mon Apr 01, 2013 1:24 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by Matt L. » Thu Nov 07, 2019 2:12 am
Very entertaining, superb work.
Cheers, Matt
Cheers, Matt
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: Halloween with the Steins (BHM, BBW, WG, Preg)
by theapes » Thu Nov 07, 2019 1:08 pm
Great work per usual
Deviant Art Page - https://www.deviantart.com/jake27
Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/Jakejmj27
Twitter - @jakemasters27
Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/Jakejmj27
Twitter - @jakemasters27
- theapes
- Member
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2015 6:28 am
10 posts
• Page 1 of 1
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest