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Morbidly: Falling for Faith

PART ONE: THE LEFTOVERS

Life is hard.

Death is a lot harder.

Somewhere in between, there was Faith.

She was the girlfriend of Neil, whose sister was dating yours truly. My own girlfriend, Nessa, was Neil's older sister. The four of us would hang out as a foursome pretty often in our early twenties. It was several years of good times.

And then, Nessa and Neil died.

Nobody lives forever.

They were the only passengers in a float plane that crashed into the side of a mountain during the holidays. Faith and myself weren't able to book time off from work. The investigation that followed seemed to suggest it was a quick death, and the culprit was either a faulty engine or human error. The pilot died too, and I can't even recall his name.

So, Nessa-- who was born Vanessa-- who was my girlfriend of three years-- was gone. As was her brother Neil, who was like a brother to me.

That left me and Faith all alone to ourselves.

At first, we had been in perpetual shock, for what felt like weeks afterwards. We spoke often, usually over the phone, and we shed a couple of awkward tears from time to time.

But Faith and I were never really friends before-- not exactly. Our relationship was a byproduct of other relationships. And with the siblings dramatically removed from the equation, it seemed likely that we might eventually cease our contact altogether.Morbidly: Falling for Faith фото

Except, that's not what happened. Not by a long shot.

But first, some things to know: Nessa was a lovely, beautiful woman. She was blonde, tan, fit, and covered in tattoos. She usually wore her ponytail with a cap, and everything she wore was Lululemon. She was perfect.

Neil was a bit nerdy, but in good shape too, yet he didn't have the magnetism that Nessa had, although he was very funny.

Last but not least, there was Faith.

Faith was the opposite of Nessa. She was very overweight, uncomfortable in crowds, and pale. She dyed her hair black so often it almost looked blue. She had a poor complexion, and dressed a little bit emo. She was, however, highly intelligent and proficient at playing piano. But she was just kind of... quiet, you know?

And I'll be honest, I never found myself attracted to her. Not even once. Call me shallow, or closed-minded, or fatphobic. But I just found her to be subpar on the sexual attraction spectrum, to the extent that she was never a second thought to me.

Nessa was my ideal woman. She took care of herself. I could lift her. She could outrun me. And I was into all of it. When she was still with me. When she was here.

But what Faith lacked in looks, she more than made up for in kindness. She was a thoughtful, caring, empathetic person, and she put others first-- probably one of the reasons Neil was with her. And although he never discussed it with me, I had also assumed he had a type, and likely she was it. And that was fine.

Just because I wasn't attracted to a bigger woman didn't mean I was oblivious to the spectrum of attraction. But Neil and I were just on opposite ends, I suppose.

When they died, Faith fell hard. To be fair, so did I. The first couple of weeks were an awful blur. Nessa and Neil's family were justifiably devastated, so much so that they cut all ties with Faith and myself. Probably to protect themselves, so I didn't blame them. Even if I didn't fully understand what they were going through. Their only children. Jesus.

My coping mechanism was Faith. I think she felt the same about me. It seemed that way.

I couldn't talk to my own parents about it. I didn't even try. I didn't see them often anyway, and they didn't live near us. So Faith and I spoke more and more during those first couple of months after our shared loss. I genuinely looked forward to our phone calls, because it cut through the bleak loneliness and despair.

It was around the end of spring, and my cell phone rang one evening.

"Hey," I said, seeing her name on my screen in front of a black wallpaper. I didn't even have a photo of her on my phone for a contact photo.

"Hey," she said softly, and I knew she had called to avoid her lonesome thoughts, and I was her only option. Fortunately, she was mine.

"How are you, Faith?" I asked, sitting up in bed. The queen mattress still felt too big since Nessa's untimely exit. I still slept on the same side I always would have, as if she might creep back into bed one night.

"Sucky," she said with a sniffle.

"Sorry," I said, chuckling wearily.

"No, I'm sorry. I call you too much. You're probably sleeping already." She always spoke softly, like she was embarrassed to increase her volume further.

"Nope," I said. "I barely get a good night's sleep half the time."

"Same," she said, and let out a big sigh.

There was silence for a while-- neither uncomfortable, or uncommon lately, for that matter. Our calls were partly born from isolation, as well as an ongoing, unshakeable grief. Neither of us had other friends.

"So, plans for the weekend?" I usually had to steer the conversations. Faith was still warming up to where she could chat incessantly, like she used to with Neil.

"Off work for the weekend. Saturday and Sunday to myself."

"Do you... want company?" I still found it weird making plans to hang out. I had never hung out with Faith one-on-one before Nessa died. Since then, we hung out roughly twice a month or so. It didn't feel disloyal or anything. Just unfamiliar.

"You don't have to worry about me, I'll be okay." She didn't sound like it. Must have been a tough week. I had them too.

"Come over. Give yourself a break from your apartment. Unless you're sick of driving here." I laughed.

"Such a long drive," she laughed in response. We lived about five minutes apart, in apartments we previously shared with our significant others. It made paying rent harder to tackle solo-- another shared trauma, in a way.

"Okay," she sighed, but there was a smile in it. I could tell.

A few hours later, I was buzzing her in.

"Hey," I said, opening my door. "Come in."

"Thanks," she said quietly, like a mouse. But she wasn't a small girl. She was only an inch shorter than me, and I was 5' 11".

She stepped inside. She wore black jeans-- ripped. She wore a baggy hoodie-- dark blue. She smelled like weed. I liked weed.

Faith made her way to couch, and I followed. She had put on more weight. Depression pounds, she called them. She was three times Nessa's size, probably. I avoided staring at her large ass out of respect. She sunk into the couch, and I followed suit.

"I watched a few of those shows you mentioned," she said, brushing her dark, raven hair from her pale face. Her acne was clearing up a little.

"Which ones?" I said, handing her a soda.

"The Leftovers," she said, biting her lip. I knew she would like it, despite the dreary tone of the show.

"So good, right?" I said.

"So good," she nodded. "Good soundtrack, too."

It was a show that wasn't unlike our lives: people dealing with unexpected losses. And other weird shit, too. Our lives were dull by comparison.

"What about Firefly?"

"Meh," she said, gesturing in a disapproving motion.

"Bitch," I said, jokingly. But it was the kind of thing I'd say to Nessa. Not Faith. She smiled awkwardly.

We sat in silence.

I felt weird, and wasn't sure why. Maybe for saying something dumb. Maybe because Nessa came to mind so vividly, so suddenly, I had forgotten who I was talking to. It was hard to shake.

"I um... brought you something," said Faith, holding up a small bag.

I opened it.

Edibles.

"I know you like the peanut butter chocolates, so I stopped by that dispensary."

"Holy, Faith. That's awesome." I wanted to get high for the last few days but I hadn't bothered to drive down to the weed shop. It was a very thoughtful gesture.

"There's enough to split, if you wanna eat them now?" She smiled, shifting in her seat. I could smell her body odor under the modest miasma of cannabis.

"Hell yeah!" I give her a high five. I hadn't given someone a high five in years.

We ate two chocolates each, not that they were very strong or anything. The two of us chilled out on the couch, and we put on a Quentin Tarentino flick. We barely talked, which was the norm during movies. But her presence calmed me.

Later, after finishing a second movie, she decided she wanted to drive home. I stood up with her, leaning in the hallway as she gathered her purse and put on her sneakers.

"Thanks for getting me out," she said, brushing her dark hair from her soft face.

"Anytime," I said.

"I miss them both," she said, looking at her shoes.

"Same," I said, looking at her generously curvaceous body. Then looking away quickly. I guess I was more lonely than I knew.

"But... I'd be lost without you." She looked up at me, almost seeming to regret her words instantly, in case I thought she was weird or something.

Until then, I couldn't tell you what color her eyes were. Gun to my head.

But they were brown, but like a tiger's eye. Golden brown.

Huh.

"Huh?" I said, sounding stoned.

"Nothing, I should uh..." She smiled and turned to the door without giving me a hug. Which wasn't strange, but she had hugged me the last two times, albeit briefly.

"Night, Faith. Drive safe."

"Sober as a bird."

"Also, Faith? Same, by the way. About being lost without... you."

"Oh. Right. Cool."

That same night, I got a text at 2 AM. I opened the message from Faith. She had thanked me for inviting her. Thanked me for the refreshments. Thanks me for being there for her. I texted her back. I told her it was no big deal. And that she was welcome back anytime.

But something was different. Just a little. And the fucked up thing was that I couldn't decide what was needling at my mind.

I lay there in the dark, frowning. Then I figured it out. How I felt.

Suddenly, to nobody at all, I whispered in the dark.

"Oh, shit."

...

PART TWO: A LITTLE TOO SOON

I worked at a bakery. It wasn't as relaxing as it sounds, but I started early and thus I was home hours before dinnertime.

Faith worked at McDonald's as a manager. Not the most glamorous job, but she had worked her way from the bottom to the top, more or less. The fast food was probably responsible for her weight gain. That, and depression. And maybe just genes.

A week after she had come over, I had texted her to see if she wanted to do something similar. I too had the weekend off, and normally I didn't invite her over again so quickly, but I wanted to be around her.

And I was a little worried about that. I'd been worried since last weekend, when I lay awake thinking about my own troubling thoughts.

For one, my thoughts started to drift to Faith more often than they had before. I was thinking of Nessa less and less. I still had our photos up, and her clothes were still in my closet-- which I'll admit I'd smelled from time to time to feel closer to her-- but I was letting go, day by day, like her fading scent.

Faith agreed to come over, and I was happy. Happy, but suspicious of my own subconscious cravings.

I tidied up a little before she arrived. I had even made dinner: pizza from the store, but still-- better than nothing.

She buzzed me, and I let her up. I lived on the second floor, and the elevator worked, but sometimes it sounded like she took the stairs. I never mentioned it. She was either scared of elevators or she wanted to get some exercise.

The knock at the door was soft, like her voice.

I opened the door, and it was no surprise to me that her attire was the same as last time. I had never seen her in anything other than clothes that hid her figure, other than a couple summers back when she wore a conservative swimsuit. She weighed much less back then, for sure.

"Welcome," I said in a goofy voice. She laughed.

"Thanks. I'll invite you over next time but my place is a dumpster fire right now."

"Yeah?" I chuckled, "Worse than this?" I surveyed my cluttered, dirty dish-laden abode.

"I'm going through Neil's stuff. Kind of... organizing it."

I knew that what she meant. She was putting his stuff out of sight. Or into storage. Or throwing it out.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's been harder with it around lately, not easier. Not helping. So..."

"I get it. I'm almost there, too. Feels like it might be time to..."

"But," she said, "It's not like I'm forgetting. Or like, deleting him... I just need to get a sense of who I am. Without him."

"Right," I said. And we were both silent a while.

"I didn't bring weed this time, but I brought some drinks." She held up a six-pack of coolers.

"Ooh. And I made Wal-Mart pizza!"

"Sweet!" Her eyes lit up. I led her to the small table in the kitchen.

We sat down, had some pizza, drank a bit, and complained about work. I could kind of smell French fries on her. And weed. And... her own aroma.

Fat girl smell, said a horrible little voice in my head. It sounded like a teenager. It sounded like a young version of me. I frowned, silently scolding my own judgmental side.

"Wanna... watch a movie? Or is it too late?" She rested her chin on her knuckle. She looked a little buzzed.

"The couch is waiting," I grinned, "and it's NEVER too late!" I guess I was buzzed too.

I sat down first, and she took a shortcut rather than walking around the coffee table. Sidestepping directly in front of me, I was presented with an up-close view of her ass in dark jeans, pale skin from her lower thighs peeking through the ripped fabric.

She sat down next to me, and the furniture creaked.

"Fuck, don't tell me I broke your couch," she giggled, looking slightly concerned.

"It's an old bastard, it can handle you," I said in return. She blushed a little, and grabbed the remote before I could. She surfed through Netflix.

She was being weirdly playful, and not as self-conscious as usual, by the sound of her. It was the alcohol, most likely. But we were also building our own rhythm, in a way.

Nessa and I would goof around, and have our own little inside jokes. But that came easy with intimacy, and history. Having a friend, one that was a girl, one who was even more introverted than I was, one I knew very little about on a personal level... it was exciting to build a new rhythm with her.

We watched a funny movie for a bit when she turned to me.

"I feel bad that I never talked to you before."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When it was all four of us. I never really asked you about your life or anything. I barely talked to you."

"Well, that's not a big deal. I was the same. We had our own partners, and we were the odd ends, or whatever. I mean, Neil and Nessa were siblings, so they had that bond already. And you and I had Neil and Nessa. You and I were friends of friends, or... something like that."

"I know what you mean," she said, finishing her drink. "And I just mean, I regret not being more outgoing. Talking to you more back then. We'd chat a little, sometimes. But I was always really..."

She sighed, and seemed to contemplate her words.

"I was really intimidated by Nessa, honestly. So pretty. So cool. Confident. Tattoos. Tanned. And I was none of that. And she was really hot, and I just felt..." She looked away from me, to her feet.

"I felt really bad about myself when I was next to her. She was nice, but I knew she didn't see me as a threat. And I felt stupid around you, so I didn't try very hard to get to know you. Neil made me feel good about myself, and my body, but..."

She looked at me with mild embarrassment at her impromptu ramble.

"Fuck, I must be drunk," she smiled sheepishly.

"No, that all makes sense," I said, not letting her diminish her own feelings. "I was intimidated by her too. I didn't really accept that I was good enough for her, and it took me a while to get over my own insecurities.

"But Faith, I saw you, back then. I knew you were a really good person, and kind, and interesting, even if we barely talked then."

She nodded, hesitantly. "That's cool. I just wish I wasn't such a shy person back in the day. I still am, but..."

Her knee brushed against my leg, and I tensed up for a second.

Faith's face changed, and she looked mortified by the accidental contact.

"Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"It's fine," I laughed, "I shouldn't have flinched like it was--"

"I don't know why I'm so..." she said, burying her face in her hands, but not finishing her sentence. I felt sorry for her, for feeling bad about herself, and for feeling inadequate, and for her pain.

I turned towards her, and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her awkwardly while sitting next to her.

She chuckled softly into her hands, and leaned into me.

"You don't need to feel shitty about yourself," I whispered, for some reason, directly into her ear.

She made a smaller sound, and I had hoped I wasn't making her cry.

"You're amazing, Faith. Going through losing Neil, being here for me, being exactly who you are. Someone... just... fucking amazing."

She turned her head to face me, eyes red and lips quivering. So small. I thought she was big, but she felt so small then and there.

I kissed her lips, just for a second.

I pulled away.

And I could tell by the look on her face, it was a little too soon.

...

PART THREE: DAMAGE CONTROL

Faith seemed confused. That was fair. She was at my place, surrounded by photos on the walls of my late girlfriend, and as I tried to console Faith, I had simultaneously made a move. Or so it would have seemed.

The kiss wasn't planned. I couldn't even rationalize it to myself. I was impulsive by nature. Yeah, that was totally why.

"Oh..." she said, stunned, as I prayed for the sweet release of a brain hemorrhage to end this cringey awfulness. I still had my arms around her. I let go.

"Fuck," I said softly, stunned at my own actions.

She was waiting for me to explain. I took a breath.

"That was kind of... stupid," I said slowly.

She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know."

"A mistake?" she asked, softly.

"No. Just... I didn't think it through. You were sad. I felt..."

"Oh," she said, nodding. She figured I was trying to build her up, and made a miscalculation, and here we were. Poor Faith, don't be sad, a kiss will cheer you up. But it wasn't like that. There was something kind of... real... about it.

Shit, even my inner mind wasn't eloquent.

"I didn't do it out of pity. I appreciate you more than you realize. You're the most important person in my life, and I meant what I said about you being amazing. And I care about you, and... that's about as much as I think to say. But it wasn't a mistake." I smiled, hoping she'd understand it wasn't a pity-kiss.

"I just know that I'm not your type, and I..." she stood to leave, but was too tipsy. She came right back down, and the couch heaved even louder than before which caused both of us to burst out laughing, easing some of the tension.

"I swear I'm not actively trying to destroy your furniture," she said, her melodic laughter easing down to a cute, weary giggle.

Her knee leaned against mine again, and neither of us pulled away.

"I know," I said. "I really don't want you to feel weird around me now, I can just drop it, and never bring it up again, if that works for you."

"Do you want to forget about it?" she asked with half her face covered by dark hair.

I thought about it. "No."

"Same," she said, and turned back to the movie we had both been oblivious to for a while.

We spent the rest of the night watching the movie, saying little, knees touching.

When she had sobered up, I walked her to the door. She pulled me in for a hug.

Previously, our few hugs shared were an inch apart, like they would have been if Nessa and Neil were around to watch. Not that we hugged back then.

That night, she pulled me in very close. I felt her belly and breasts push against me, and I smelled her smoky hoodie, the booze on her breath, and her feminine scents. I felt her warmth. I wrapped my arms around her, my fingers almost touching. Almost.

 

"Thanks for... everything," she sighed into me.

"Same," I said, and we let each other go.

As she left through my door, I stared at her body.

Yeah, she was heavy. Very heavy. But she had curves, and decent proportions, if not a little bottom-heavy. And she was so different from Nessa that she felt novel, and unique, and mysterious. She felt fresh.

And alive.

And for the first time in months, so did I.

Two days later, Faith texted me. She wanted to know if I would come to her place that weekend. She said it was an excuse to clean up her apartment. I agreed, of course.

The work week went by slowly. I texted Faith during the remaining nights of the week. Nothing special, but it was more communication than usual. It felt more natural than formal.

While I drove over to her place, I had tried to reset things in my mind. Mistake or not, the kiss was too much. I could still appreciate her without making a move. Months after my girlfriend had died, and same went for Neil.

It felt morbid or something. So I was planning to act like it never happened, despite what I had told her.

I parked. She buzzed me up. Third floor. She answered the door.

Faith was wearing a knee-high dress. Black, with little white dots that I later realized were tiny skulls, but a dress nonetheless.

"Wow," I said, heart on my sleeve. No chill.

"I did laundry. Found this. Never wore it."

"Looks really nice on you," I said. What was my problem? It's like I couldn't help myself. Maybe I was over-thinking things. Maybe I sounded normal.

"You look good too," she said. Not my clothes. Me.

"Thanks," I laughed, brushing the wrinkles from my plaid shirt.

"Well, I cleaned. All hail me." She led me down the narrow hall. I watched her heavy hips shifting in her dark dress. Nearly touching both sides of the narrow walls.

"How was work?" I tried to distract myself with banal banter.

"Oh, same old." She sat down on her larger, more durable leather couch. Her place was very tidy. I remembered that she didn't have any pets either. Made sense why we clung to each other so easily. We really were alone.

"Looks nice in here." I did notice that photos of Neil were taken down, or any with him in it.

"It was bad before," she groaned. "Wrappers from McDonalds, dirty laundry, the whole shebang."

I sat next to her on the couch. We watched a scary movie for about five minutes before Faith asked, "Did you figure out why you kissed me yet?"

I probably turned a little red, and I laughed nervously.

"Right. Well..." She wasn't exactly toying with me, but clearly it had been on the forefront of her mind, enough to ask.

"I'm just being dumb, we don't have to talk about it if you--"

"No, I don't mind," I said, ignoring the slasher flick to my left.

"I have some, uh... feelings. For you. Pretty sure."

"Really?" she asked, as she tilted her head against the couch to better focus on me.

"Apparently," I said, sounding aloof.

"You seem surprised." I noticed her eyeshadow was a little purple. Her tiger's eyes complimenting it nicely as she stared at me. I think she had been drinking a little already. Maybe she was a little high too. She seemed... bold.

"I just... overlooked you in the past. Even after Nessa was gone. I didn't really see..."

"You too. Kind of. I actually had a crush on you when we first met. Long ago." She handed me a beer that had been resting on her coffee table.

"Really?" I said, laughing. I took a sip.

"Just a tiny crush. Then I met Nessa, which killed any ideas about that feeling going both ways. And I loved Neil. Like I said, just a brief feeling."

"Never would have guessed," I said. I hadn't ever detected anything like that, way back when.

"But that feeling has been back for a while," she said, sipping her beer.

"Oh. Right." I sipped mine.

"But I'll be honest. I'm too tired from everything that's happened to create more trauma, or for things to get weird between us-- or worse. I'm too worried about being all alone. I don't want to ruin the one good thing left in my life."

I knew she meant our relationship, whatever it was. It warmed my heart.

"I don't want that ruined either," I said.

"Can I just ask you something, then? Just a big, blatant thing I need to get out of the way?" She sounded pretty clear-headed as she looked into my eyes.

"Of course, Faith."

"Do you find me attractive?"

My mind went blank. It wasn't an easy answer for me. Because before I started having feelings for her, I actually didn't. And I really wasn't sure if it was loneliness, open-mindedness, or a newfound chemistry that brought on my recent appreciation for her body, and her looks. But I still felt like I was halfway through that door.

So I did the only thing I could think to do, and just talked it out with her. I was honest.

"I didn't think of you like that before. I was with Nessa, and she was like... my dream girl. It's horrible to say, but you were kind of invisible to me. No offense.

"But lately, I've been... checking you out, and being... interested in you. I mean, your eyes are beautiful, and you have a really sweet face, and you--"

"Oh God," she moaned, wincing. "You don't need to--"

"I do. I need to. I'm... attracted to your kindness, and your soul, and all the things that make you... YOU. And I'm interested and curious about everything else. I like the way you look. I haven't had feelings for someone like you before. It's new, for me. I don't normally... find myself attracted to..."

"Fat girls?" she said bluntly, but with a wry smile.

"Well... yeah," I said, "but I sure wouldn't have said it like that."

"I know," she said, still smiling. "You're polite. And respectful. You'd probably be nice to protect my feelings. But I'd hate that. If you were pretending for my sake."

"That's kind of why I rambled on. It's a yes, but a convoluted yes. And I'm not pretending anything," I smiled.

"Neil liked me the way I was, but I didn't need to ask him-- we didn't talk about it. I could just tell. I couldn't tell with you. And I'm bigger than I was with Neil." She smiled a guilty smirk.

The conversation about her weight was making my jeans feel a little tight.

"All that is to say, I do like you, Faith. And I'm attracted to you. And weirdly, none of my hesitation has to do with Nessa. Or Neil. I think I'm worried about messing things up too. You're my only friend."

"You're mine, too. Obviously."

We smiled at each other while we ignored the stupid movie.

Faith leaned in for a kiss. I didn't see it coming, but I liked that she made the move. I kissed her back, and it was nerve-wracking as well as wonderful. She tasted like black cherry lip gloss. We paused.

"Taking things... slow... might be... the move?" she asked, pulling back a little.

"Slow is fine. Slow is good."

"You sure?" she asked. Maybe she felt like a hypocrite for initiating a kiss only to ease off.

"Totally," I said. We probably were smart to take it easy. Think things through.

"All hail slow," she said, sipping her beer and smiling as she swallowed the amber liquid. She smiled wider than I'd ever seen her smile before.

...

PART FOUR: RUSHING INTO SHIT

A few minutes after committing to slowing things down, Faith and I were doing the exact opposite.

We tried. Honest.

We stopped kissing, watched the movie, but our legs touched. We looked at each other. We had been alone too long. Or it felt like too long. At least for me.

We wordlessly fell into each other after a few minutes, and the kissing grew passionate.

Kissing Faith was interesting. Her lips tasted sweet, and her eyelashes fluttered against mine. Her aroma was strong, and I was starting to really enjoy her scents, even if they were a little strong.

The interesting part was the noises she made. She was softly moaning after each kiss. Nessa was quiet when we kissed; Even our sex was pretty soundless, except for our breathing.

Faith was letting out tiny, little moans, and I liked it very much. I just wondered if she was doing it solely for me. But I realized it was just one little nuance of a totally different woman. Nessa was my first real relationship. I didn't really know another woman like I knew her.

Faith and I made out while I brought my hand to the base of her neck, something Nessa had liked. Faith's neck was soft, and plump. For someone who was getting over his dead ex, I was comparing the two of them more than I should have been.

Faith pushed away from me for a second.

"This isn't slow, I'm sorry," she said, looking flushed.

"I'm not complaining," I said, leaving my hand by her neck. But then Faith stood, with a little effort, and held her hand out to me. I took it.

She led me to her room. I followed her as she hypnotized me with her wide hips, knowingly or not. This was really happening.

"I hope you won't regret this," she said, biting her lip, looking unsure as she looked back at me.

"I know for a fact... I won't," I said, pulling her into my arms. "I want you."

Two helpless loners rushing into shit. Fuck me, this was moving fast. We stumbled into her room.

So.

In the morning, I woke up naked in Faith's bed. The light filtered through her blinds and woke me up. My own apartment window only saw sunsets, plus I had blackout curtains.

I turned, and saw the back of her head: black hair, messy, and tickling my lips.

I looked up at her ceiling as I remembered it all.

We had fallen into her bed, and continued to make out. Then I had taken off my shirt. Then my pants. Faith took off her dress. That was probably when I saw the tiny skulls all over.

The lights had been left on, which surprised me for how shy she was earlier. I had seen a lot in that illuminated bedroom.

I knew Faith was heavy. I knew her body was different than Nessa's. But I wasn't prepared for the difference.

Pale, swollen flesh was abound. The black underwear under that dress was modest enough, but it hid nothing. Faith had large, heavy breasts with deep cleavage. Her sides and belly were made of thick folds and rolls. Her skin was laced with stretch marks that reminded me of light scars from a minor animal attack. Varicose veins peering under the surface in certain places. Blemished skin in other places. So many details.

Faith was morbidly obese, and I was thrilled to see every inch of her.

Despite my fixation on her excess, she was still sexy to me. Her diminutive voice and shy yet eager approach to our passion were adorable and endearing.

Before stripping my underwear off, she stopped herself.

"I don't know if it's... are you sure you want to? I mean, I totally want to, it's just..."

Faith didn't seem nervous. Just unsure if this could destroy what we already had. But I knew we would survive it. That's what we did these days. We were the survivors. But I needed to live life, not just survive.

"I want this, Faith. As long as you do, too."

"Of course. Okay."

The underwear was taken out of the equation. I saw her nipples, and they were thick, pink, and pierced. No tattoos to speak of, but bars through both of her decently sized nips. Crazy. She was shaved between her legs, but with a buzzer, probably. Just a little stubble grew on her soft and plump mound that hid under her large stomach. She could easily be confused for being pregnant.

Faith let me climb between her legs as she lay on her back. Her body sunk into herself in a way. Her belly flattened out a little and her breasts seemed buoyant and less pronounced. We kissed as her thighs parted.

"I have condoms, next to the..." she trailed off, pointing to the night stand.

Nessa and I never used them. I always just pulled out, and finished in my hand.

"Cool," I said, reaching over and finding a Durex in the drawer. I peered down at her mysterious entrance for a half-second as I applied the condom. Her lips down there were kind of big, but I wasn't displeased.

I found a better position, and gently pushed my tip inside as her chubby thighs pressed warmly around my hips.

"Oh, I'm not really, uh... ready... to..." Faith bit her lip and sighed uncomfortably.

"Oh, no worries, I'll just--"

Like I had said before, we had been finding our own unique rhythm. And sex-rhythm was just as complex as conversational-rhythm.

I licked my fingers, and applied it between her legs. I rested my upturned palm on her plump pussy as my two fingers teased at her slit with slick friction. She hummed small moans as she watched me.

Her clit started to engorge, and Faith started to moan a little louder than she had when we were kissing before.

I pushed my fingers in slowly, watching in awe at her heaving, breathing body. So much body. Incredible dimensions. Folds of flesh. Rolls of goodness.

I found her own slickness within and teased at her until I figured she was wet enough. All things learned with Nessa, who was barely on my mind at this moment.

I fed my erect self between her legs again, watching her mouth open into an expression of pleasure and pressure. So much cushioned flesh, more than I could have expected.

She pulled me against her, into her, and her body felt humid and oven-hot.

My hands wandered.

I squeezed parts of her as they filled my palms. I kissed her. On her lips, her breasts, and elsewhere. I sank in and out of her tight warmth. I was cushioned everywhere underneath me. Her plump arms held me close. We kissed again. And again. It was very different, but very good.

The scent of her exercise and my own was filling the room. Her moans increased. I realized for the first time that shortly, I was going to come inside of her. Faith. The girl who was once invisible to me, who now filled my vision, and fueled my passion.

As my fingers sunk into sweaty, giving dough, and her mewls increased to feverish frenzy, and the heat radiating off of her was uncanny, and as she squeezed me tightly as I thrust in and out, in and out, in and out until it was all too much... I came. I came hard, deep inside of her, moaning into her neck as the world melted away.

The sunlight from the following morning was overwhelming, even with my eyelids shut.

I breathed deeply, and brought my arm over to rest upon Faith's large waist.

She stirred, turning towards me. Her eyeshadow was smeared, and her cheek had creases from the pillow. She looked a little hungover. But she looked good to me. There wasn't any regret in my mind or heart seeing her roll towards me.

"Hey," she said, looking tired but happy.

"Hey to you too."

"You're still here," she said with a yawn. She brought her heavy, naked thigh over my abdomen, which rested gently but firmly on top of me.

"Yes."

"That was really good last night."

"I thought so too," I said. "Sorry you didn't get to finish." I flashed back to her refusing my attempts to reciprocate her own climax. She said she was just happy I finished. Happy and tired. She just wanted to cuddle.

"It was still really good," she said. "Was I... okay?"

"Very," I said.

"Must have been... different for you," she said, then looked away. She must have felt bad. She still compared herself to... her.

"You were amazing. I barely lasted. That's a compliment."

"Okay," she giggled, letting it go.

"So, no work... no plans?" I brushed the dark hair from her flushed yet pale cheek.

"Nope. Just us, doing whatever, all weekend. If you want," she said.

"Cool."

I wasn't wrong. It was very cool. By Monday, we had made love another three times. I returned the favor on the second run, and made Faith come. That was a wonderful sight to behold, along with the loudest moans I'd never imagined escaping from her sweet face.

We were making up for lost time. And despite having a few kinks to work out, we were still pretty compatible on a sexual plane. Her size just took a little getting used to. But it was amazing.

Only a small part of me felt like I had moved on too soon. But Nessa was gone.

The seal was broken. We had crossed that line. And nothing would stop us from enjoying it now.

...

PART FIVE: MASSIVE CHANGES

A couple months had gone by, and things were very different than before.

First of all, Faith and I were in a new kind of relationship. We didn't put a label on it because we both knew what it was. It was real, and it was important. But we didn't have anyone but ourselves to announce it to.

That change in our relationship included a sexual aspect that took a little getting used to. For one, speaking for myself, I was sleeping with the biggest girl I had been with in my life, by far. And although my brain was sometimes overwhelmed by certain... visuals, I enjoyed my explorations of Faith's body, every single time.

We hung out constantly, rarely spending a night apart, staggering our sleepovers between one apartment and the other. We didn't always have sex, but we were pretty hungry for each other's company in the first week or two.

Then, the bakery I worked at burned down.

Luckily, nobody was hurt, since it happened overnight. And it wasn't my fault or anyone else's-- there was a gas leak, and it was pretty cut and dry, so said the fire department.

But my job was abruptly gone, and I struggled to find something new. Faith offered me a job at McDonalds but she didn't blame me for not accepting a position. I had my own personal trauma involving a Burger King in my teenage years. Long story.

In the meantime, while job hunting seemed fruitless, my rent had come due, and paying it wasn't feasible for much longer.

That's when Faith invited me to live with her. My rent was a couple hundred more, but her place was a bit larger and had newer appliances. Go figure.

So despite it being pretty rushed, I sold most of my furniture and moved in with Faith. In the process, I put all of Nessa's photos and some mementos into a box and donated her clothes.

Soon after, I found a job at a coffee shop nearby. Boy, did I love working close to home. I could walk there. My bakery experience helped land the role, and I was paid a little better if you included tips.

In less than two months, things had changed a lot.

I came home after work, around dinnertime. Faith was watching TV on the couch.

"Hey!" I said, throwing my jacket on a chair. It was warming up outside lately. Summer was approaching, and soon jackets would be overkill.

"Hey," she said, waving. She was wonderful to come home to. Her smile brightened my day. She was less self-conscious around me as well. She wore pajama shorts and shirts around the house lately. I saw more of her skin at home.

I sat next to her. She had a weed pipe on the table.

"Smoked up without me?" I laughed.

Her eyes looked a little bloodshot.

"Yeah, sorry," she giggled.

"All good." I took a hit, and relaxed into the couch.

We talked about work, and about stupid shit in the news. After a bit, we started to make out. Mid-kiss, I asked her something that had been bugging me for a bit.

"Faith, I wanted to ask you... are you sure it wasn't too soon? Me moving in?"

"You asked me that a bunch before, and my mind hasn't changed. I like getting to wake up to you every day." She smiled, pulling me in for another kiss.

"Same," I said into her neck as I absentmindedly thought about the last time we had made love. Probably yesterday. Another thing had been on my mind, but I would mention it later.

After fooling around for a while, we ended up in bed. Her bed was a queen, and felt a little small. Cozy, but small. Maybe it was months sleeping in my own bed by myself. Maybe it was her extra pounds.

When we started to undress, I brought up the other thought floating around in my head for weeks.

"Hey," I said, taking off my boxers, "I wanted to ask you..."

Faith was biting her lip softly while staring at my erection. She definitely liked the dick. I was quite used to her wandering eyes by this point.

 

"Yeah?" She was backing up into the bed. getting into position. The only position we ever did.

"We always... do it... with me on top."

Her smile faltered, just a little.

"Oh. Yeah?" She pulled the sheet up over her body. Fuck, this is why guys should just never say anything.

We had sex a lot, but always missionary. And no cowgirl, no oral. Although she was often handsy, which was nice. But never to my own completion. I just needed to know if it was a self-conscious thing.

"When Neil and me used to..." She looked at the ceiling. "I usually... didn't want to be... on top."

"No?"

"Being heavy and all."

"Oh. Okay." My boner was still standing at attention as I cursed myself for ruining the mood.

"But... maybe we were in a rut?"

"You and Neil?" I hoped she didn't mind talking about it. I found it interesting-- digging into what made her tick, and what she thought about. Especially sex stuff.

"Yeah," she sighed heavy. I lay next to her in bed and put my arm over her, my erection poking into her side. "We were doing good, but I think the... sex... got a little samey. Clearly that was my fault, since... you also noticed. That I like the same thing over and over."

"I wasn't complaining, I just wondered if there was a reason, or something keeping us from..."

I stopped. I smiled and kissed her.

"Faith, I just need you to know that I only wanna do what you wanna do. But if you ever wanna do anything else, I'm up for it."

"You're so thoughtful," she said as she kissed me back. "I'm also still dealing with some other shit. I still... have a hard time accepting that you can find me attractive after being with Nessa."

"Aw, Faith, please don't--"

"I believe you, it's fine. I just have to convince myself sometimes." She turned to me, and we snuggled close. My stiffy was pushing into her belly.

"Well, maybe I can tell you how much I enjoy it when you're on top, if we could try."

She giggled. "You're stubborn, huh?"

"I just think you'd enjoy it too. But probably not as much as me."

"And if I'm too heavy? You'll actually tell me? I don't want to be secretly breaking your pelvis or something."

"I'll tell you everything you wanna know."

That did it.

She smiled wide as she started to crawl on top of me as the sheets fell away. I stared in awe as she spread her thighs apart, her large belly rested upon my stomach. Gravity was doing its thing, but Faith was in her late twenties; Obese or not, she still looked nubile and healthy, not droopy.

Her heavy breasts looked full, and I'll admit that seeing her rolls of flesh bunching up from this angle was a sight to see.

"How is it?" she asked softly as my tip teased at her entrance. "Oh shit, condom."

"Right," I said, reaching for one. I applied it from under her with a little maneuvering. "Well so far, you haven't relaxed your full weight. So I'll let you know."

I cringed inside at my choice of words. Full weight? Jesus, so classy.

I guided my protected member into her and laid back down. She shifted into my erection as it slowly filled her. A soft moan escaped her lips.

"How about now?" she asked, as she relaxed further. Her weight was impressive. Cushioned, yet compressing.

"Very nice," I said, putting my hands on her love handles.

"And the view from below?" she asked softly with a cheeky smile.

"Perfect," I said.

She started to lift and lower as we began.

As I'd said before, it was a pretty drastic change going from Nessa to Faith. Sometimes Nessa would ride me, and from memory she didn't ever feel heavy on top of me. She might have weighed around a hundred and twenty pounds.

Faith's weight was... crushing. But in a good way. I marveled at how big a woman could get, simply by eating more and whatever genetics played their part. Plus, Faith never went on two runs a day like Nessa did.

But Christ, her body was plump, and full, and plentiful. I knew it was unhealthy to be this overweight, but my caveman brain told me it was the opposite: this woman was a fertile goddess of health and sustenance. Or something.

Also, the smell of her sweat thrilled me. She had many crevices and folds where sunlight didn't see. Her body odor wasn't always strong but when she perspired it was truly an aromatic event.

And the sounds of her flesh slapping against itself when we got really vigorous in bed was glorious.

So, with Faith on top, we made love as we locked eyes and my hands explored her. She didn't seem to mind my wandering hands. She watched me intently as I dug my fingers in and around her curves. I toyed with her pierced nipples with a smile on my flushed face.

"Dying yet?" she said in a breathy voice as she put her hands behind her head, exposing shaved armpits and plump, wobbling, marshmallow biceps.

"Heaven," I said, as I thrust along to her own gyrations. Building that rhythm.

I brought my thumb to her clit, after a few seconds of searching for it under her plump, nearly shaved mound.

I thumbed at her while she bit her lip, riding me roughly. Moaning. Unseen but not unknown to me, my lower half was raw and red under her punishing weight. But I persevered.

Always vocal in bed, which was still surprising given her timid personality, her moans increased gradually as her climax neared. Those noises would always bring me dangerously close to coming as well, and I tried holding off as long as I could.

Finally, it was too much, and I groaned loudly as I filled the condom within her mass, thinking of how truly deep I was inside of her in all directions but down. Submerged.

I kept playing with her clit but she didn't last long either, as she whimpered violently into the otherwise quiet apartment. Her face contorted in that almost pained way, as she sucked on her lower lip, twitching, and sighing on top of me until she opened her eyes, half-lidded, looking quite satiated.

She sighed.

"That was fucking good. I wasn't really in my head too much," she said as she traced her fingers around my chest hair.

"Good. Mind-blowing for me. So good."

"I'm glad. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone."

"Any time."

She crawled off of me, and discovered my red, raw lower half.

"Poor you!" she giggled guiltily.

"Worth it."

Nobody sleeps as soundly as two people who just had sex, and that night was no exception. I drifted off to sleep while spooning my warm, soft woman.

I was happy again. I'd been happy for weeks. I felt like I'd be this happy forever.

...

PART SIX: MORBID THOUGHTS

Things were good for a while. Almost perfect. We were filling the void left by our lost loved ones. And what was more, we actually liked each other. We weren't at the "I love you" phase yet, but it felt close.

We were homebodies. We watched movies, binged TV shows, and ate comfort food. Sometimes we did our own thing-- Faith would practice on her keyboard, and I'd solo a video game.

And we had sex pretty often.

As she warmed up to me, and became less self-conscious of her body, we experimented further in the next few weeks.

Despite her size, sex was not only fun, but incredibly exciting for me. There was so much to see, and hear, and feel. I would never ask her about her weight but my guess was Faith could have been over 300 pounds. Maybe more.

I knew I was fetishizing her body, but I was a guy. That's what we did. I cared for her, and probably even loved her already. But it still felt too soon to say the words. I think she liked how interested I was in her curves, and how I lusted for her as she was. Without knowing for sure, I had the feeling Neil and Faith didn't have as active a sex life as we had now.

We tried out new positions, and different types of foreplay. It was a little tricky to 69, but we made it work-- laying side by side. Even then, her thighs could easily suffocate me if the angle was off.

Let's put a pin in that.

She liked when I'd go down on her, another thing I assumed Neil had neglected to do. Her pussy was chubby, and always a little stubbly. She tasted more savory than Nessa did, who showered more often, compared to Faith. Her lips were meaty, and I liked sucking on them. I wondered what Neil used to do for her. In a way, I was weirdly competitive with my late friend Neil. I wanted to give Faith what might have been uncommon for her to receive.

Faith liked giving me head, but I'm weird: I don't enjoy getting it as much as I like dishing it out. I'm a giver, what can I say.

Learning Faith's sexual proclivities was a slow process. I knew she came quickly when I played with her clit. She got winded pretty easily, and riding me took it out of her. As much as I preferred it, she didn't. That was fine. She still granted me the privilege often enough.

She didn't especially like her nipples touched or her throat grabbed: things Nessa loved. But I was intuitive, so I picked up on Faith's own personal preferences that were unique to her.

She liked to make noise. Moans were commonplace, even during a make out session. She liked it when I moaned as well, so I might have exaggerated some pre-climax groans for her pleasure.

She also liked when I played with her belly. It surprised me at first, given how shy she could come across about her weight at times, but she loved when I played around with her fat during sex. And I could barely last while I did so, so I did it sparingly unless I was close to coming.

Speaking of coming, we always used condoms, which was okay because it helped me last a little longer. I always felt overstimulated when we had sex, because of her impressive optics and aromas that did me in quicker than I would like.

I had never been very trusting of condoms before. Nessa had been of the mind they didn't work all too well, and that mindset had become my own over time. Seems stupid in hindsight given we used the pull-out method instead.

But nothing beat coming inside of Faith, rubber or not, though the latter was never an option. Not one we chose, anyway. Kids were not in the game plan.

When Faith came, she was noisy and almost emotional about it, which I usually loved. Sometimes it seemed a little too loud, or too over the top, but Nessa was always so quiet, so it was a striking contrast, like everything about Faith. I discovered new quirks every day.

As the weeks went by, and as we settled into the norm that was becoming over lives, some thoughts started to drift into my mind.

For one, I worried about the ramifications of Faith's weight long term, which seemed to be slowly increasing. God knows we never exercised, and although I had put on a little weight, I was still nowhere near heavy. Faith was incredibly overweight. I knew that my fetish had a cost to her that didn't cost me the same way.

I also worried if I had moved on too quickly, or if I had brainwashed myself into thinking Faith was the only girl in the world left, and that maybe I had been too hasty to move in with her, despite having no other solutions at the time.

And I wondered if it was wrong to start seeing someone months after the death of Neil and Nessa, and for it to be Faith of all people. Maybe it was tasteless, or heartless, or something.

And, though I kept them at a distance, I knew my parents would come by at some point, and they'd find out I was with Faith. They'd see how heavy she was, and think I was nuts.

But that wasn't fair. Those thoughts sounded like the old me, who took Faith for granted and whose close-mindedness had overlooked the curvaceous angel that was Faith.

But still, our lives felt a little... grim. Living in the shadow of two recent deaths, hiding in our private abode, our private life, while Faith got bigger and less healthy as I reaped the benefits.

And part of me wasn't worried about her health. It would be years before she was in any peril. Let me enjoy her size, and her excess, let me bury my worries under her warm, almost suffocating flesh.

Christ.

Then those neurotic, panicked thoughts would pass, and I would enjoy things again. It came and went in waves.

And talking things out with Faith was always helpful in the past. I knew she'd be receptive to me being open about my feelings. Maybe I wouldn't tell her every morbid thought, but I'd start with a few things that I figured we'd both agree on.

...

PART SEVEN: THE HONEYMOON'S OVER

I talked to Faith about a few things rattling around in my mind.

I voiced my concerns about me putting my sexual gratifications first over her health, but she laughed it off. She told me her weight was her own choice, and as long as I was happy, she was too.

I also asked her if she worried about us being shut-ins, and if she ever wanted to do more than watch TV and hang out on the couch all day. She didn't want to change a thing.

We didn't talk about our deceased partners much, but she did agree we had rushed into things a little quickly, but she was only concerned that I would tire of her sooner because of that, which I laughed at in turn. I was wildly addicted to Faith, and I wasn't even close to feeling any sort of cool down period, relationship-wise.

So, things seemed good, and we seemed to be on the same page.

And time carried on.

Some other differences became apparent as the months went by. Faith quickly shed most of her shame of bodily functions and had no issues sharing the bathroom after a while. At some point, we started to feel comfortable enough to be gross in front of each other, and it became normal to take turns farting in bed while we laughed our asses off and mock-gagged at each other's gas passed.

Nessa had rarely done anything like that around me, so in a weird way it was an intimacy I never had with her.

Not to say that every time I had to use the bathroom after Faith was always an aromatic joy to behold, but it just felt... real. We were just lovers with little to no shame. It was fine, because it was honest.

We also took care of each other in that almost primal, hunter-gatherer way. Although we didn't pick fleas from one another, we clipped each other's toes, or she'd shave my neck, or I'd shave her legs in the shower. I really liked doing the latter, especially for the view. Words don't do justice. Trust me.

I enjoyed popping the odd pimple out of reach on her body. I even liked the smell of her feet as I cleaned out her toe jam during foot massages. I enjoyed other smells from other places too.

Her body, and all its little intricacies, were becoming very well known to me. And I came to appreciate and adore almost everything about her.

Again, as a guy, I could fetishize just about everything she had to offer. And as a guy who used to jack off a fair amount when I was with Nessa, I rarely felt that same urge with Faith. She kept me satisfied, often.

We started saying I love you, and I can't recall when it was said first, except that we never stopped saying it since. We would say it daily, like Nessa and I would have during our most love-struck phase.

And despite not knowing if I always meant it to the fullest, I always meant it.

Faith was really good at letting me try new things. She wasn't a pushover, but she rarely refused me the experiences her body had to offer. She let me get pretty perverted.

One night in bed, during foreplay, I had asked if I could lick her ass. I probably went down on her weekly, and was looking to expand my horizons. South.

"Like, my asshole?" she asked with a furrowed brow and a unsure smile.

I nodded, already feeling stupid for asking.

"What would you get from that?" she laughed in her quiet tone, and then as a follow-up question, "Wouldn't that taste kinda... bad?"

I took off my shirt and brought my fingers to her earlobe: one of her favorite things, for some reason.

"I love how you taste," I said, gently toying with her ear. "Your lips, both top and bottom. I think you'd taste good anywhere."

She giggled, squirming a little, her thigh swinging over my hardening cock.

"You like me better when it's been days without a shower, too."

She wasn't wrong.

"I do."

She kissed me.

"And it HAS been days. But this is my big sweaty booty we're talking about. And I've never..."

Neil had never done that. I knew it. Not that it was a basic move. Nessa had only let me do it once, when we were drunk. Never again.

"No pressure, I just had a craving, and asked."

She bit her lip, and gave in. She rolled off me and let me strip her bottoms off. She wasn't shy around me anymore.

I peeled her underwear off as she rolled back and forth on her belly. I privately marveled at the width of her panties once removed. The surface area of them. And also, of her exposed ass.

Pale, mottled, and vast. Her rear was titanic. Its chasm was deep. We hadn't even done anal yet, but she slowly spread her legs apart as I massaged her colossal thighs as she moaned in approval.

I gently spread her cheeks apart. Her skin was darker within, and I didn't know if it was discolored from friction, or stained from a lack of cleanliness, though I assumed the first, since her inner thighs were also a little darker than her paler flesh too. Chub rub, she called it.

Faith hummed in either anticipation or a mildly self-aware nervousness at her asshole being slowly exposed, her clammy flesh slowly parting, accompanied by the sound of tacky skin pulling apart.

And inside, she wasn't perfectly clean. I was almost put off for a half-second when her brown, puckered hole was exposed, small black hairs peppered around it.

A lone voice inside my head told me this was a morbidly obese girl's dirty asshole, and I had no respect for myself whatsoever for considering tasting such a place.

But that only fueled my lust. Stoked the fires of perversion within me.

I pushed my face between her planetary cheeks, sniffing subtlety as I dug my face in deep, tongue outstretched.

I lapped once. Then twice. It tasted like Nessa's. Maybe their only overlapping trait. Faith moaned. Moaned again.

So.

Half an hour later, Faith was coming hard as she fingered herself with my tongue an inch deep in her ass. I had jacked off to completion roughly fifteen seconds earlier, soiling the sheets.

And although the honeymoon phase was over, and we had shed the masks of normal people pretending to be quaint, we had exposed our true perversions to one another, and we were far from growing tired of each other. In fact, that little experiment led to our next big obsession.

Turns out, Faith really enjoyed a good tongue lashing back there. A lot. Much more than she enjoyed the same attention spent on her clit, somehow.

She liked that the noises I made-- the moans that I vocalized-- were muffled, and stifled, and ragged.

During the following night, we discovered that she enjoyed sitting on top of me during this act even more. And I couldn't have been more thrilled.

She had rolled over on top of me, presenting me with her wide rear, allowing me to shimmy in up close and personal as she straddled my neck.

"Sit on me," I said as she hovered above my face.

"You'll die!" she laughed, almost losing balance for a second. I could smell her earthy aromas and I needed them to engulf me.

"I'll die if I don't get a taste again," I said. Not the rhythm I had expected from us, but we were definitely comfortable talking dirty these days.

"You just wanna be smothered by my big, fat ass again, don't you," she said with a sassy swagger.

Last night I had sort of smothered myself in my compulsion to service her tart little hole. This would be a whole new level. I would have no control underneath her. Helpless.

"Faith, you have a way with words."

Suddenly, without notice, she dropped her ass upon me. Her weight relaxed quickly upon my face. I was forced deep within her sweaty, mammoth ass.

She fell forward, giggling. I gasped in air.

"I slipped," she said, snorting. "Sorry."

 

"That was a rush," I said, chuckling.

"I'll sit slower this time, kay?"

"Ready," I said.

Faith sat back down slowly, and I wiggled my face in between her cheeks, parting them gently with my hands as the pressure increased.

My tongue blindly navigated until I found her asshole. I impatiently tasted it, teasing my way inside. She kept applying pressure, until I was squashed under her weight.

It hurt.

It hurt my nose, which was mashed flat under the meat of her ass crack. Her mass weighed heavy on my skull, and I felt a mild panic. It wasn't a stretch to imagine the possibility of literally suffocating to death underneath Faith's weight.

Faith moaned as I tasted her insides. It was a guilty pleasure for me on so many levels. I would have moaned louder if my mouth wasn't sealed shut. Only my tongue was free to swirl around within her.

I needed air badly, and I hurriedly tapped her cheeks as the panic overwhelmed me.

She sat forward and asked, "You okay?"

I laughed, coughed, and said, "Forgot I needed to breathe."

She giggled, and asked, "Do I taste good?"

"So good," I said, pulling her back down.

I loved being smothered by her. There were so few moments we had shared where we both knew she was intentionally suffocating me. We had our share of awkward 69 attempts, and sometimes when she was on top during sex my breathing was restricted a little, but never like this.

She seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. I felt her reaching between her legs to masturbate as she crushed me with her weight. I tapped her again for air and she playfully wiggled her hips an extra couple of seconds before sitting up.

Christ, she was playing with my airways, playing with my life, like a big cat playing with a tiny mouse. It was fucking hot.

Faith started to moan louder, and I reached down to service myself as she diddled her clit. I was already painfully hard, my tip already leaking a little as I gripped it.

I tongue-fucked her asshole as she grinded me into her dark, canyon of oblivion. I figured we'd both come before I needed air again, so I powered through it.

Just before I thought I might black out, Faith came, mewling loudly as I finished blindly all over my stomach.

She rolled off, sighing loudly as cool air hit my face. She cuddled up beside me and breathed deeply.

"You came so much," she sighed, watching me let go of my pulsing member.

"It felt so good," I groaned.

"To be smothered?" she said with a bit lip. She didn't have to ask. She just wanted me to admit it.

"Yes."

"Kinda dangerous," she said playfully.

"Worse ways to die."

"That'd be an awkward 911 call." She put her naked thigh over my messy stomach. She really didn't give a fuck.

"I love you," I said.

"You too. And I love that we like the same things. And that you like me being fat, and that you like being under me. Dying under me," she giggled.

"Round two?" I asked with a smile.

...

PART EIGHT: A CLOSE FUCKING CALL AND A SUPRISE CONFESSION

I was finishing up at work, mopping the floor of the coffee shop. It was kind of a lonely job, and I rarely worked with more than one person at a time.

The manager, Layla, was fifty, and not very chatty. She worked mornings. Scott was the teenager who worked the night shifts. And I had the middle of the day.

I waved goodbye to Scott as I headed out the door. The sun was still shining. It was autumn, and the leaves were falling. It was getting closer and closer to a whole year without Nessa.

I walked a few blocks, and put my key in the entrance door to our apartment lobby. I checked the mail, and found only flyers. I took the elevator to the third floor.

I let myself in, and found Faith sitting on the couch. She was in sweats, with a tank top. She had recently cut her hair a little and put in some green highlights. She was eating chips and smoking a joint. Despite being a smoke-free building, nobody seemed to follow the rule.

I got into comfy clothes and we talked about our day. We got high, watched a movie, and went to bed. That was a summary of almost every day lately. The same could be said for our bedroom antics, which followed a pattern as well: we would fool around, kiss a little, and then we'd get into position.

Faith was obsessed with facesitting. We called it Faith-sitting. She liked the power, she liked my struggles, and she loved my tongue in her ass.

And I swear that Faith had put on a hundred pounds since the beginning of this year. But do you think I could figure out a way to ask her without coming across as rude? I still respected her enough not to ask. But I had wished I knew what she weighed these days.

We got naked, she got on top, and I found myself in my usual predicament: semi-suffocating under her massive ass.

I loved it. It was my ultimate fetish, and nothing made me come faster. I loved that she pushed the limits of my breathing. It was like a game: I'd tap her for air, but she wasn't always quick about getting up. And with Faith at her heaviest, it was a bit of a thrill to see how long she'd push it.

It wasn't just for my benefit. Although she was a lovely, compassionate girl, she had an edge. A dark side. She seemed to like joking about killing me with her size. She seemed pretty into the noises I'd make. If I had to guess, I think she had some pretty morbid fantasies that I knew would always remain as such, but still... She was in control of my life in those moments. I trusted her completely.

But we had a close call.

Faith was masturbating while gyrating on top of me. I too was servicing myself, slowly, to drag out my eager orgasm. My face was deep inside her crack, my tongue cleaning the first inch of her tight hole.

But when I tapped her for air, she played dumb. She waited until my taps became frantic slaps and I clawed at her flesh.

Faith started to rock back and forth, building momentum to heave off of me. But she faltered, and fell back. My lungs burned and my chest ached as I shook and scrambled under her.

For a second, I thought I might actually die under her. I thought about my choices and obsessions that led me here, trapped inside her dark void as the weight of a world flattened me. I thought about Nessa, and what she would have made of this.

Faith was able to roll off before I lost consciousness and joined Nessa in the afterlife. I gasped sharply and painfully as my chest seemed to remain compressed and crumpled inward.

Inaudible words came from Faith's mouth as she lightly patted my face to bring me closer to normal, closer to being alert and aware.

"Hey," I said, "sorry, I was pretty close to..."

"Fuck, babe. I'm so sorry, that was all my fault, I didn't mean to--"

"I live. All hail me."

"All hail you. But seriously, this is like, a wake up call. We can't fuck around like this anymore."

"But we didn't come yet," I said, woozy.

She stared at me, then laughed, and lay next to me. Her belly pooled over mine. I toyed with it.

"Yes, play with my belly," she said softly with no hint of self-awareness.

"So no more smothering?" I pouted.

"Just... carefully," she said sternly.

"Did it feel nice though? Me freaking out under you?" I massaged her flesh and explored her skin with a sensual curiosity.

"Shut up," she said, but biting her lip a little.

"Convulsing under you, begging for air?"

Faith moaned softly, as I squeezed her chub. I thumbed at the outside of her deep bellybutton.

"Stop," she whispered with a smile.

"I liked being trapped under you, baby." My voice got a little husky. I slowly reached between her thighs.

"Yeah?" she asked softly. I had her now.

"Yup. Trapped. All yours, just used and abused. Mashed flat." Maybe I was milking it a little, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Fuck," she whimpered as I played with her clit.

"Tell me how it feels for you," I said as I pushed a couple fingers inside.

"Crazy," she said in a low voice, "I feel so big, and you feel so small."

"Yeah."

"You try to breathe but you're too deep, it feels so good to me."

"More." I focused on her clit again with one hand and penetrated her with the other.

"I just... think about how much... you like it, and how I like it... even more." Between every pause she would moan louder and louder. I knew she was getting close.

I chose the strangest time to ask her the question that had been on my mind for months.

"How much do you weigh, baby?"

She looked at me with half-closed eyes and a bit lip. She considered my question. I regretted asking her right up until her answer.

"A lot," she said, giggling, but watched me closely. She could see I needed a real number. "You really need me to say it?"

I knew the scale was being used occasionally. It sure wasn't me stepping on it.

I nodded.

She rolled her eyes, and whispered into my ear as if she was keeping it a secret from someone in the same room.

"Five hundred and three pounds today," she said softly as she moaned to my finger work.

Fuck. Over five hundred. Spectacular. She could see the joy on my face.

I started to jack off as she neared her climax. My thumb on her clit would be enough to finish her off.

"Fucking... amazing," I said, before coming at the sound of her calling out my name as her orgasm rocked her. We both shuddered and moaned, relishing in the delight we shared in our love for each other.

...

PART NINE: MEET THE PARENTS

Faith and I were enjoying our lives as fall came and went. Our jobs were stable, our sex life was healthy even if our physical selves weren't, with Faith much less so than myself.

We celebrated two things in December: The anniversary of the loss of Nessa and Neil, as well as our first Christmas as a couple.

It was kind of a bittersweet winter, to be honest.

Although the late siblings and their family were absent, Faith's parents along with my own came to visit. Fortunately the visits were separated by a couple day intermissions.

During those two days of being alone, with my parents and Christmas approaching, we took a small trip to an ice cream place just outside of town. We had gone there often as a foursome in the past. Maybe we were paying our respects.

The service was bad but the simulated ice cream flavors were plentiful.

We hunkered down at a booth while we ate our frozen treats.

"Your folks were so nice. Can't believe I'd never met them before," I said, eating my peanut butter and chocolate cone.

"They are. But I told you that you'd see where I got my butt from," she laughed, eating a blue bubblegum cone.

She wasn't wrong. Her mom was heavy too, but not nearly as big as Faith had become. And her dad was on the husky side as well.

"She was sweet."

"They loved you," she said, licking her blue lips.

"They seemed happy for us," I added, biting the edge of my waffle cone. The shop clerk looked away as I noticed him staring. Faith got some funny looks, but I didn't give a shit. She was my lovely, large lady and I was smitten.

"Do your parents know much about me?" She wiped her face with a napkin.

"A little. I rarely talk to them but they know we all used to be friends."

"And do they know what I look like?"

"They don't do Facebook, so, no."

"You could brace them, over the phone."

"No need. They'll honestly forget your name or anything we talk about once they leave. They're obsessed with work, and don't leave room to judge."

"If you say so," she sighed, reaching for my hand.

"I do," I said.

The night before my parents came, Faith and I tidied the place. Near the end of our cleaning session, we migrated to the bedroom for another kind of session.

Faith was clocking in at around five hundred and fifty pounds lately. Weighing herself became part of our gaining fetish. We knew it was risky, and dangerous, and stupid. But she liked to eat, and we both liked the increasing size difference between us. We loved it.

So that night, we did the usual: Faith smothered me as I licked wherever I could reach, and we both finished ourselves off to the experience.

We still had sex sometimes, but not nearly as much as she facesat me as we touched ourselves. Despite her increased size, we had developed a better grasp on safety and our limits.

We had it down to a science, but it was still exhilarating.

I knew it was selfish to do nothing to slow her weight gain. But I liked watching her expand. I liked feeling the extra pounds on top of me. I was addicted.

We finished in time to get a text warning they were coming into town.

Mom and Dad came to the door, and we invited them in. I could see the subtle shock on their faces upon meeting Faith but they composed themselves, and were more chatty than I had expected.

We did gifts early, and they cut their visit short, leaving before the evening to get a head start on their trip home, after the weather seemed to be attempting a flurry.

The place was all to ourselves for Christmas.

We drank egg nog, and got a little tipsy when Christmas Eve rolled around.

We reminisced a little about our absent friends. We shared some stories, and remembered the good times.

But I was happier with Faith than I ever had been with Nessa. It sounded crazy to me, but I knew in my heart that I loved Faith in a way I never felt for Nessa. There was just some... spark, one that was unique to my relationship to Faith.

Our talks shifted to discussions about our hopes for the new year, and what aspirations we might have.

We both agreed that our jobs needed an upgrade. We needed more money to buy better furniture, like a bigger bed, and to afford a dog, which we had talked about getting. Breed to be decided.

We fell asleep on the couch while watching the original Grinch cartoon. We woke up on Christmas, rolled off the sofa, and looked outside to see a world of white.

We make breakfast and drank coffee before exchanging gifts. I had bought Faith a new chair for her keyboard and a book of songs she could learn. She was really good.

She got me a photo album filled with photos we had taken over the last seven months or so. I was more than a little excited to see the obvious increase in her size as we looked through them together.

We curled up on the couch, and watched more holiday cartoons until we decided to head to bed.

That night, we didn't get frisky. We just talked for a while.

"Crazy it hasn't even been a year together yet," I said in the dark.

"Feels like longer. But I guess we didn't start hooking up right after they died," she said, almost laughing but deciding to hold off.

"Totally," I chuckled, lifting the mood a little. It was the past. We had moved on. But we didn't forget our friends, who were our lovers just last year. We didn't make light of our loss. But we talked about it enough to feel like we had processed it properly.

"I feel so lucky to have you in my life. I'm glad we didn't fuck this up."

"Not yet," I smiled, even if it was a little too dark to see.

"Not ever," she scolded with a laugh.

"Never," I agreed.

We fell asleep, holding each other, as layers of silent snow buried our apartment under its powdery, protective shield.

The new year came and we left the old one behind.

Valentine's was soon behind us as well.

We celebrated our one-year anniversary soon after.

I proposed that day.

It felt a little cheesy to do it on the same day we had previously decided was our start date, our anniversary, but Faith didn't mind. She thought it was romantic. Plus it saved us from celebrating two different anniversaries down the road.

The ring was a little basic, and not very expensive, but she didn't mind. I had written a little poem that outlined all the reasons I loved her. I've never shared it with anyone, because it was only meant for her. I read it to her while we were parked by the beach where we had first been introduced, way back when.

She hugged me and kissed me so tightly, I almost couldn't breathe for a few seconds.

But I didn't mind.

It honestly seemed like everything was going as perfectly as it could, and that we were going to be happy forever. We felt like we were blessed with a perfect relationship, and a perfect life.

It seemed like it would go on like this for years. But nobody is that lucky.

...

PART TEN: WE WERE LUCKY FOR A WHILE

One year had passed since my proposal.

We married in the spring.

Faith and I found better jobs in the summer.

We bought a corgi puppy named Bella in the fall.

By winter, we wondered where the time had gone.

Life goes by fast, and anyone can attest it goes quicker as the years go by. Faith told me that it wasn't a vague feeling, but it was how our lives are slowly divided into smaller fractions the longer we lived. It was a conversation we had while high, so pardon me for not remembering it exactly.

Faith's weight was starting to be a real burden on her. Her new job, where she worked as a copyrighter, was easy on the body, but even then, she was sore all the time.

When we were home, she was barely ever standing. It was the couch, or the bed. We were either binging TV, or fooling around in our new king bed while Bella whined impatiently outside our room.

I brought it up with her while we were making out, which was probably the wrong time to do it. She tried to make it part of our foreplay.

"Yeah?" she said cheekily, "You think I'm too big?"

I rolled my eyes, "Not what I said."

"I know you worry, but you still like my body, right?" She put my hand on her massive belly, massaging my hands into it.

"Duh," I groaned, "But I don't like seeing you in pain."

Her smirk faltered, and she let her guard down a little.

"I know. But I'm not even thirty yet. I'm not having a heart attack anytime soon," she huffed. "I don't want to worry about later problems."

"I know. And I'm not trying to be the world's biggest hypocrite. I love your body. Love it. Love it, love it, looooooove--"

"Shut up," she giggled.

"But I love you too much, not to say anything. But it's your body, and your life. I'm just having a moment of party-pooper clarity."

"I have been feeling shitty, honestly. My back hurts, my boobs hurt. My feet really fucking hurt. Even after your rubs. Maybe I can cut back on the crap food."

She rolled on top of me. I groaned a little.

"But," she said, "Maybe we can celebrate my peak weight, since I'm being brainwashed into not dying young anymore." She stuck her tongue out at me, as she pinned me underneath her heavy curves.

"You weighed today?"

"Yup," she said, with a knowing look.

"Six hundred?"

She nodded. "Just barely. I think it was six-oh-one. I should have taken a picture. Do I feel like six-oh-one?" She jostled around on top of me.

"Kinda," I squeaked.

"Wanna feel me at my heaviest? On your face?"

I nodded silently with a red face.

She heaved off.

Faith straddled me, and used me like a human throne. Sure, we had done this last week. Almost every week. But it felt special that day. Maybe because we had reached our limit. Our shared fetish was too problematic to feed any further. We had journeyed far, but it was time to turn around, and head home. Or something.

Unreliable narrators don't usually have the excuse for not making sense due to a six hundred pound goddess squashing them within an inch of their life. But that's my excuse.

All of her sights, sounds, and sensations seemed heightened that day.

The aroma of her balmy, half-clean ass crack. The darkness I felt under her prison of flesh. The punishing pressure she so rarely relented. The immovable power of her stationary posture.

The asphyxiation, coupled with her organic sounds all around and above me.

Faith's shy playfulness as she tested my absolute limits. Her moans as my frantic gasps were muffled under pounds and pounds of pale mounds.

The love that permeated all of it.

 

The simultaneous climax we shared as we pleasured ourselves.

The afterglow.

In the new year, we actually committed to our plan. We bought better food. We started a very slow, very gradual exercise routine. We did it together, even if I wasn't even twenty pounds heavier than when we started dating.

We walked the dog together. We bought a treadmill.

It was very slow going, and some of our first real fights were had over staying on track, and trying to refuse the temptation to give up. But Faith was resilient. She powered through. She made sacrifices, and she shed pound after pound.

And as she did, we discovered that her weight loss resulted in a surprise outcome: Her normally tight, almost bursting curves had reduced in size slightly, but her skin had softened, and loosened, slightly.

Faith's belly was the best example of this. After six months, her belly had gone from an overlapping, swollen stack of folded flesh, to a slightly flatter, less pronounced, smaller belly. But her skin was loose, and soft, and malleable.

And before any comparisons might be made to the loose skin of an older woman: this was not the case. It was young, nubile flesh, but it was different, not lesser.

The rest of her body had similar side effects. Her flesh was jiggly all over, but she was still pretty heavy.

And let me tell you, it was just another phase of the same fetish I was obsessed with. Faith was still fat, but her body was even more fun to be smothered by.

Now, my face was buried in softer, giving flesh, so much more than before. She liked trapping me in the swath of her soft belly, and laughing as I struggled underneath her.

She wasn't as heavy, but she was not any less of a brat in the bedroom.

We started to have sex more often, something we had probably convinced ourselves was do to it being overrated compared to facesitting, but I think it stoked the fires of our passions for the better.

And for a while, we were lucky.

We were lucky to feel so much passion and love for so long. But life goes on, and it goes on for a long time.

Another year passed. She kept the weight off, and found herself losing more as time went on. The right exercises went a long way to tightening up her softer skin, but she was happier weighing less even if she was a little jiggly in places.

We moved into our first house, and got another dog, since kids weren't on the agenda. Fur babies were enough.

Another year went by. We were thirty. Our sex life slowed a little. We got a little more vanilla in the bedroom, but that was fine. Faith and I still had the occasional queening session every other week or so.

Our relationship had already surpassed the one I shared with Nessa on many levels, including duration, but I still thought of her every so often. Sometimes, just to enhance my enjoyment of Faith, and how she really was the bigger, better woman. Morbid, I know, but I said a prayer for Nessa every winter to balance things out, karma-wise.

Faith and I had fights, and there was jealousy, sometimes. We got annoyed by each other. And that was fine, because those moments felt brief compared to the joy we usually shared.

Another year.

Another.

We became creatures of habit more than ever. And although we actually had social lives, and exercised, and worked meaningful enough jobs, we still got worn down by life.

More time passed.

We were in our mid-thirties. We knew we really weren't having kids anymore. We bought a cat.

I had the beginnings of an emotional affair with a woman at work.

I stopped it before it went too far. I never told Faith, but if nothing else, I was proud of myself for putting that fire out before anyone was burned.

We were forty. Like that. Almost twenty years of marriage.

I think I had a mid-life crisis. I bought a boat, and we didn't live that close to water.

Faith started seeing a therapist for depression.

Things seemed gray, and grim, and flavorless, compared to the raw nerve that was our twenties.

But Faith and I took a vacation to Ireland that year, and things started to turn around. We seemed to pass through a tough part of our lives without knowing why it felt so trying.

For two weeks we explored the green landscapes and talked with really interesting people. We shared drunken stories of how we met, and the strange, oddly morbid beginnings of our life together.

After coming home, I feel more optimistic about life, and my life with Faith.

And maybe that's the secret to a happy life: actually living. Mixing things up. Sticking with a good woman who's good to you. I don't know. What do I know?

Death is hard.

It can blindside you at your happiest moments. It can hide in everyday struggles, a morbid possibility looming around the corner. It's the inevitable end to the movie we ourselves star in. It's scary.

But life is a lot harder.

It requires patience, and resilience. It begs you to feel things when you know you shouldn't, and lulls you into thinking that your happiest moments might last forever.

Somewhere in between, there was Faith.

She was, and continues to be, the very best part of my life. I love her, and respect her, and I'm proud of her.

And I'm still crazy for her, and her body, and what she can do with it.

She's always been this light at the end of the tunnel, a bright angel who would dress in black, who would keep me safe from darkness even as she buried me underneath her, where no sun shines.

She's the love of my life, and a caring, giving wife.

I sat down next to her as she played the theme from The Leftovers on her piano. A haunting melody, for sure, but also beautiful. Our three fur-babies wandered around us, the dogs wanting a walk and the cat content in her wanderings.

"Crazy we watched that show way back in the day, before we dated," I said, setting my coffee down on the table nearby.

"I only saw it because of you," she said as she played flawlessly.

"All hail me," I said.

"All hail you, baby," she said, leaning against me.

Nobody lives forever.

It can be a devastating thought, or a mantra to live by to lead a meaningful life. Either way, I have my own personal solution to morbid thoughts, whenever they rattle around my middle-aged mind, the same one that saved me all those years ago:

Faith.

...

THE END

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