Men Are From Mars 1

"Just try it", she whispered. "I know you'll love it".

These words word the start of a journey in to a lifestyle I barely knew existed before I met her.

I'd seen gonzo documentaries and the usual clip from sensationalist chat shows but to experience it first-hand explains it all. The primal urge that rests within so many of us was unlocked in me that night.

Five weeks prior, I had been working on a trading desk at one of the largest hedge funds in the country - Mars Capital. I was wealthy enough to quit and live a normal life, but the greed that had set in following my first bonus meant the world was not enough. From the desk to the club four nights a week, my routine was that of banker stereotype. Poor boy done good, picked from a market and made in to a trader. I had looks, a nice apartment, a country home and enough cash passing through my account to live a life of excess. But it wasn't enough.

I'd never been overly interested in the girls that I came across. Sure, I'd had girlfriends, but each relationship was best described as vanilla. Until her.

Her: Kate, She was very different. I'd noticed her in the office. How could I not. She worked for one of our larger clients, and mirroring the client's portfolio size, she was large. Considerably larger than anyone I'd seen of her age. At least in London.

Her physique was alien to me. Alluring from the offset, voluptuous, exaggerated. Her face as thin as a size 6 girl rested on top of 280lbs of well-dressed perfection. I caught her gaze as I passed her in the lobby. I was hooked. Never before had I felt a stirring like this. She was beautiful. No, she was Beauty.

I couldn't approach her, through fear, stigma and legal obligations. So when she left the office to go to lunch with our manager, I assumed that I'd have to wait till the next time she visited to glimpse her beauty again.

The weekend came and it was time to let off some steam. After a few warm up drinks with my team I broke off and headed to one of my regular clubs. I was on my second cocktail when I spotted her.

She was seated at a table with two other guys and some of the usual champagne whores mulling around their bottle. Her hair was down, her makeup on, highlighting her almond eyes and sumptuous lips. Her body draped in a tight black dress, her heavy arms were adorned with bronze and gold bracelets and a Patek. She looked confident but bored.

Emboldened by the liquor I began my advance toward her table. I had no idea what I expected to do or say. I just had to be closer to her. Less than ten feet away from her table our eyes locked. A smile crept across her face and I raised my glass to acknowledge her. Instead of standing up she gestured for me to come over by tapping the space next to her. I sped to the table and stood in front of her. Up close she was more entrancing than ever.

"Hi", I called, exaggerating the mouthing to try and communicate over the filtered drone of the music.

"Hey there." she responded, her eyes sultry. With an air of dominance she repeated her earlier gesture for me to sit at her side.

I began to introduce myself, "I'm...",

"The guy from Mars?", She interrupted. Her pun amused her and broke the ice enough for me to feel comfortable.

"You recognised me?" I must've turned somewhat goofy or forward enough to attract the attention of her companions at the table.

"Are you going to introduce us?" The shorter of the two interrupted, seeming relieved to have an excuse to turn his back on the three girls helping themselves to his liquor.

"I'm Richard, from Mars Capital" I stuck out my hand toward him.

"Ah cool, so this is who Kate was with earlier? Good to meet someone who we've entrusted to gamble our money with!" He seemed jovial but stern.

Kate interjected, "Richard isn't one of the smilers; he's one of the thinkers"

"Traders. Well, head of the equities desk" I continued.

The conversation went on, they motioned for Kate and I to keep talking and went back to their business.

She glowed when she spoke. I found out she had just started working for their equity firm having finished studying chemistry and falling into the financial industry trap. I detected an American or Canadian accent. She was 26, "Loved London" was enjoying the night life.

Three drinks later we found ourselves in the back of the same black cab on the way to my place. Buzzed and a little excited I lead her up the stairs and in to the apartment where I offered her another drink. She accepted and asked where the bathroom was. The two glasses of wine I poured were never left the living room but we found ourselves in bed.

I'd never seen a woman like this. So feminine. Her full figure oozed sex. I worked my way down from her mouth kissing her slim neck then progressing to the warm billowing flesh of her breasts. They sat on a globular belly that hid her lips. I dived in like a teenager feeling her belly rest on top of my head, it cushioning her writhing and I explored her moist sex.

When I mounted her, her flesh rippled and sloshed with every thrust. Never had I felt so in tune with a woman's body. Her femininity was exaggerated by her fat. And I wanted more.

Her breasts, belly and thighs, like an ocean, moved with our rhythm. Never had I understood what erotica was until I was looking down on her fat moving. She was a goddess. She climaxed with a guttural moan that sent me in to a frenzy. I grabbed her massive behind and pulled myself in for my finish. I could feel her pussy tighten around me as I thrusted harder and harder at her soft mound.

Finally it was all too much and we erupted together, sweating and panting. I lay on top of her feeling our hearts beating. The salty smell of sex engulfed our space.

When I pulled out I rolled on to my back and helped her in to a seated position on the bed.

"That was..." She looked shy, as though the dominance she started the evening with was tamed for that moment by our passion.

"Life changing?" I breathed

She nuzzled my cheek. "Cute. Cute but accurate" Her warm glow was now flushed. "So,"

"So". I didn't want to ruin anything by saying the wrong thing. "Would you like to stay the night?". I quickly thought myself too forward, "I have a spare room that I can make up or here and I can go in the spare room or"

"Here, with you?" She lowered her chin and looked up at me.

"Here with me." I was relieved.

I slept a rested dreamless sleep. No thoughts of numbers, no recalling the day. Saturday AM arrived with me spooning her ample form. My fingers teasing their way between her folds, exploring this new sensation.

I was a convert. I had gone fat and I was not going back.

She turned to look at me and kissed me softly on the cheek. "Morning."

"Morning" I grinned back. "Would you like coffee, or we can head for breakfast. There's a great place downstairs"

This was my first surprise, I wasn't looking at her as a fat girl. She as just a girl. A girl I passionately liked and had enjoyed a steaming hot night with, But her response confused me. "Just coffee, I don't do breakfast".

A rush of thoughts came through my head. 'Was she dieting?'; 'If she is, should I tell her breakfast helps?'; 'Is she in a hurry to leave'; 'Was it a mistake to offer?'

I let them settle as I set up the coffee machine. It was half way through filling the flask when I felt her belly bump in to my back.

"I'm on a kinda weird diet, so no breakfast. But if you want we can go to the cafe. I've got nothing to do today but go home and get changed"

I turned around to greet her, She was wrapped in a towel she'd found on the floor in the bedroom. It hid very little. It want long until my gown was being parted at the waist. She looked down and gave me an evil grin. We returned to the bedroom and had a reprise of the previous night. Showered and going commando, I drove her to her door and left her my number in case she wanted to meet up later or on Sunday afternoon.

I got a call Sunday evening asking if I wanted to do dinner.

Sunday dinner was a typical English affair at my local gastro pub. Roast beef, all the trimmings and a bottle of wine to share. She worked her way through her meal like a she hadn't eaten in a week. It came time for desert. A course I usually skip. She ordered two. I assumed one each but what to my confusion what I witnessed next was a turning point in my life. She devoured her pudding and then continued to slide the tiramisu I assumed she'd ordered for me toward herself. She then looked me square in the eye, grinned and sensually began eating it. Her mouthfuls were small. Her tongue teased each creamy spoonful off the silver in to her pallet. She moan slightly, "This is so good!" She then licked the tip of the spoon and went in for another mouthful. Spoonful after spoonful she continued the show. Eating with passion, and a deep sexual gluttony. Not the messy caricatured gluttony the modern media portray: that of a gourmand. When the plate was empty she winked at me, "Want to take me home?"

How could I say no. We split the bill and walked to the car.

I couldn't keep my eyes off her in the car. She stayed silent with a smile. Like she knew she'd captured me. Her poker face was broken and her full house was written across her whole visage.

Her apartment was tidy and girly. Spots and prints and colourful china featured in every room. I sat on the couch as I removed my shoes.

"Tea?" She called from the strip that was her kitchen on the facing wall of her living room.

"Please". She approached with two cups. Her blouse tighter than I had noticed in the car. Placing them down, she lowered herself next to me. Her weight causing the cushions to bow toward her pulling me in her direction.

I didn't wish to fight it. I leaned in for a kiss. Our lips locked but then she moved away.

"dinner was great. It's my favourite meal." her smile broke again. "Infact it's the only meal I eat. Well that and supper and maybe a midnight snack". She was studying my face. Testing my reaction.

"You look like you truly enjoyed it".

"I, Truly, did". Her emphasis matched my phrasing. I had given away my pleasure at seeing her pleasure. "You didn't seem to mind me eating the other desert? Could you tell how much I enjoyed it?" She stroked her belly.

I was cornered. Was it a test? My time as a trader had taught me to try and see what people were saying under their words. What was something worth to someone over what their lips were letting slip. I flashed back to her eating. Her eyes were on me: was the whole meal a test? How was she last night? I remember touching her belly as is jiggled back and forth. I remember it was right before she began to moan. Was that her trigger? Was it her fat that turned her on? It could have been, but that was so out of left field that it didn't seem like a card worth playing. I played safe. "I can tell you that I like seeing you enjoy things. And you seem to have been pleasured by our last 24 hours together. Shall we maybe try it again next Friday"

"Leave me with a memento?" The words were a green light. Our hands started exploring each other's bodies. I unbuttoned her, her hands unbuttoned my jeans. She started rubbing me through my boxers. I was oozing by the time I'd unwrapped her. I felt a need to taste her again. I laid her on the couch and dove in. Her belly on my head again felt different, harder. She was much more excited. My tongue was greeted by a gush of her juices. Ninety seconds of teasing and she came. She pushed me back and I clumsily ended on the floor. "My turn!" she declare and she wrapped her mouth around my tip. Her fingers teasing my shaft the other hand cupping my balls. She knew how to use her tongue. The spoon was her warmup, I was her big show. Her mouth kept such pressure on me that I couldn't last for more than two minutes. She was working me so furiously I that I almost blacked out as I came. through my haze I watched her greedily wipe any excess off her lips and in to her mouth. She opened wide to show me my seed and then, her eyes locked on mine she swallowed and grinned. A mischievous grin I had not seen before.

My week went by as normal. Kate and I were exchanging texts, naughty and nice. We were growing as friends and by the following weekend I was ready for another round. It didn't fail to disappoint. Week after week our exploration grew. Week four was the other hole, week five was a day in a hotel room with some of her lonely nights' companions. But our sex life wasn't the only thing that I noticed growing. Kate's wardrobe was changing so, fully clothed, it was hard to spot the difference, but with her clothes off I noticed her belly lower, her breasts fuller, her ass folding over and her upper arms beginning to overhang. With each softening she was becoming more sensual, more womanly in my eyes, and far sexier. We booked a weekend away together in Paris eight weeks in to us dating.

It was there that she came clean.

We dropped our bags in the room and headed out. The afternoon streets were alive with tourists and workers. September was always my favourite month in Paris. The August shut down left the city refreshed, and with a month left of fair weather the city's pulse could be felt through the rhythms of the hustle and bustle. I took her hand as we turned on to the Champs-Élysées. Her hips brushed me with each step of her right leg. Her relaxed sway sending small ripples over her entire body. She caught sight of a colourful patisserie up a side street and without asking began gravitating toward it.

In true Parisian style, we were practically ignored by our waiter. Her fingers began tapping on the table as I tried to keep her distracted and the mood sweet. I was describing my love for the city, thanking her for getting me away from the stress of my job but she was distracted by the long counter behind me.

Excusing herself she marched over and getting the attention of the girl proceeded to order everything that took her fancy. I stayed seated watching her from a side angle as her eyes lit up with each slice that was added to the tray. She then headed back over with the same grin I had seen on her face the first weekend we met.

"I thought I'd dive us in at the deep end" she declared flatly. "You know how I love the sweeter things. Well Paris has some of the sweetest things I know."

The tray was set down with two glasses of black coffee and two forks. Seven plates, each carrying a fine pastry teased into shape until it was as much sculpture as it was sustenance.

"Take your pick." She paused. Her eyes fixed on mine and her tone deepened, "And feed it to me."

I'd never heard those words before. They were strange but not alien. There was a demand and a surrender in the request. I shaved an inch of gateau from its point and hesitantly offered it to her lips. Lust filled her eyes as she parted her lips. She stared at me as she lowered them around the morsel. "mmm. More."

I obliged. This time mille feuille. As it approached her mouth she paused it by taking the stem between her forefinger and thumb, the end of the fork still in my hand. She then licked the creme before taking it all in to her mouth.

Bite after bite the show continued. I was hypnotised. The eroticism of her act of gluttony overwhelmed me. I was entirely unaware of the tables along side but was fixated on her.

Two thirds of the way through she took a pause and struck up the conversation.

"I find it so sexy when you feed me"

"P, pardon?" I knew the statement was true. The last ten minutes were testimony to that. But to hear it spoken: that was shocking.

"Eating. Gourmandising, is one of life most underrated joys. We enjoy a concert publicly and people don't mind. We cry and laugh at the ballet. We stare for hours at scenes expressed on canvas, but the spectacle of enjoying food, and ALL, that comes with it, that, that is almost taboo. And that's what makes is soooo sweet." I was unaware that I had given my reaction. My chin rested on my hand and I was nodding subtly to every word she had said. "I could see you enjoyed feeding me. Watching me enjoy my food. Tell me the truth. Do the results of my pleasure stir anything in you?" She stroked her bulging tummy.

I was taken aback. Leaning back in the chair and placing my hands on the armrests I became defensive in posture and mind. We were in unfamiliar territory. A foreign land. One bedroom, no hope of retreat to a sanctuary if I messed up, no hope that I could evade the question for 3 days. I was cornered. I had to respond. "If by stir you mean anything but my own pleasure. No." I was playing it cool.

"I know you like me. But do you like the changes in me?"

Again I was on the back foot. This time I chose to think about my answer. Did I?

There was no denying that my passion grew with each passing day, but was that just part of getting to know each other?

There no fooling she was bigger. Much bigger. At least two dress sizes from the day she came in to the office. Did I like it? In isolation I couldn't say. But did I prefer her now to the first night: definitely.

I replied: "You are more alluring today than you were yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. I'm not sure what the reason is. But keep up the trend and you've got me for good."

Her face grew a tad sterner. I hadn't given her a straight enough answer. So she pushed for one," Do you like that I'm growing fattt?" The final word lingered.

I thought again. "Yes." I did.

"Good." She said sultrily. "I've been growing myself through pleasure for years." Her eyes surveyed her body. "A lot of pleasure. And I'm not done."

I reached for my coffee. The cup was cold but my mouth was too dry to care. I didn't break her stare. I don't know why I said it but something in me roused: "I. I like that you're not". She nodded and ordered the check.

The hotel room was decorated in deep crimson. A boudoir that framed her growing frame. I had to lift her warm rolls with both hands to reveal my prize. She was slick to the touch. Her smell filled up my senses. Her thighs were now so wide they squeezed my body in to hers. That afternoon I experienced the pleasure of her mass on me. Her belly sliding up and down my chest with each thrust . She sweated and struggled her hands highlighted her corpulence. She stroked and held her breasts and belly like a prize. Each squeeze highlighted the slight cellulite on her oozing mound. I felt my balls tighten as we got closer. She was moaning and panting. The sensation of her belly rubbing up and down me pushing me closer and closer. Her pussy tight as she reached her climax and within seconds I was pulsing inside her hot fat mound of a pussy.

She eased herself off me and walked over to the minibar.

"We're a great match you and I" She was still breathing heavily, each breath animating her glistening flabby form.

"We sure are". I was still unable to move.

"I want to share something with you." She walked over to her case and withdrew a laptop. Opening it she made her way back to the bed. She loaded a folder called Untitled. "This is the story of my gain in photographs" She opened a random image. She was once very small. "This is me before I discovered my love of fat" She opened the next one "This is how I discovered it". It was her next to a behemoth of a man. I took a close look. The man was almost as wide as he was tall. Piercing blue eyes framed in a fattened face. His face sat above a rounded double chin which melted in to his chest. His round moobs bulging in his t-shirt. These were supported by his hanging gut that flattened out over his thighs. "This is Alex. He was my first feeder"

"Feeder? as in the one who fattened you up?" I was surprised at how jealous I felt.

"Well, kind of, yes. I also fattened him. We were a gaining couple. I met him online in a student support forum. We never exchanged photos but we did exchange jokes. During summer break we decided to meet up to talk about career paths. He was 230lbs then. By this picture he was not." She looked at me remembering that this was the first time we had spoken about previous relationships. "Are you..."