Sam’s Big Date
By Shalion

	The sofa creaked, springs and wood boards complaining of the weight laid atop them.  Although there was only one person sitting on that couch, there was a lot of that particular person.  White and black furred skin lay draped over the squashed padding of the sofa, it lacked definition and was soft and malleable.  The owner of said black and white furred flesh yawned and adjusted her ample body mass on the sofa yet again and the sofa continued to shriek in its unrelenting torment.  The cow turned off the mind numbing television that had so far distracted her for the better part of the day and bit into the last baby carrot in her little plastic baggie.  Swallowing, she looked stupidly into the empty container before tossing it inexpertly, due to the heavy bags of flesh below the elbow on either arm, into the trash tin besides the couch.  She belched loudly and stratched the top of an exposed breast the size of a spring water melon.  Sam heaved a sigh and glanced longingly at the closed laptop on the floor before her.
	The last week she had spent at home and off her hooves had given Sam an incredible increase in free time.  At first, she filled the hours answering her E-mails and responding to new entries on her favorite forums.  Later, she made updates on her much out of date blog and made creative projects out of previously taken pictures to post.  But as the days rolled by, the amount of new things to do could not keep up with twelve hours and more of free time per day and the fact that Sam knew her way around a computer and could work efficiently did not help the matter at all.  It was Tuesday again, just over a week since her fateful and extremely trying trip to the doctor’s, and Sam found that she had absolutely nothing to do.  Even with the opiate Vicodin pumping through her system, the boredom was getting to her.  
She reached for another package of carrots on her round dome of a belly and found none from  box she had brought in that morning.  That was the worst part about being stuck at home, she couldn’t stop eating.  The bovine who had once boasted that she was fully in control of her weight had put on 13 pounds so far this year, nine pounds of which she had put on in the last two weeks alone, bringing her to a staggering total of 645 pounds.  She was usually down ten or fifteen pounds at this time of year; the holidays were looming and Sam had never failed to gain weight at the various holiday feasts.  Her gaining and constant eating made her feel weak and for the first time in her life, her self confidence felt as though it were being damaged by her normally revered gluttonous capacities.  She didn’t understand at all what was different this year, why was she getting these severe cravings?
She shook her head at these depressing thoughts.  The one good thing that was happening in her life at the moment appeared as a set of startling blue eyes.  Around these eyes was set a midnight black face of a wolf with a wild and hungry looking cast to his features.  His canines were so large and so sharp that they constantly escaped from his lips.  His body was lithe and lean, a natural born runner, but he possessed preternatural strength for the size of his frame.  She remembered how his hackles had bristled, forming a wild mane in lust for her when his inhibitions had been robbed by alcohol, and she shuddered in longing.
She had spoken with him almost every day since her lunch with him the day of her appointment, but the severity of the torments she had endured that day had drained her spirit and she had done nothing but sit on her expanding butt and eat since then for just over a week.
She just had to do something or she was going to go insane.  She groaned as stiff and underused muscles cramped as she started shifting her bulk, her left leg was falling asleep from supporting the right one anyways.  First she propped herself up on her elbow, as always, the ample flesh filled the cavity from her wrist to her cheek and down onto the back and seat of the sofa as well.  Her enourmous oblong breasts rolled around in her loosest, baggiest T-shirt as she pushed herself sideways.  The right one which had folded over the left and outside the wide and overstretched neck of the shirt bounced and swayed in protest to accused movement, its nature was to sag and find always the point of lowest energy.  Sam quickly shoved it back into her billowing blue shirt as she pulled herself up with the more than considerable weight of her right leg.  The thigh and calf were bloated beyond compare.  Twenty years ago, Sam had sported a stout but detectable hourglass figure.  Now, approaching 650lbs, this meant that the excess Calories she continually pumped into herself was sent on a beeline for either her hips or her breasts.  Her right leg was a mass of creases and sagging wrinkled flesh.  It bulged in places it ought not to, sometimes giving the impression that she had broken her leg while she was standing.  From a shelf that protruded farther than her love handles, a series of steps in the rolls of her fat, unbroken even while lying down, led down the thigh; three enormous rolls, the emperors that domineered all the rest sagged down the insides and back of the thigh like frozen water falls.  A calf that a thanksgiving turkey would envy was round and swollen, kept taut by strong muscles within, but still soft and malleable to the touch; she could feel it shake with gusto every time she took a step.  At the end of it all, her leg narrowed paradoxically into a digitigrade ankle, her foot slender down to the hoof and looking for all the world like it would snap right in half with the enormity of the body above it.
Sam had to scoot over to fit on the far two and a half cushions of her three person couch when she finally righted herself.  Her right breast slid over pampered fur to rest on its correct side of the dome of her belly which separated her breasts at rest.  She took a few deep breaths at the effort and felt vaguely light headed for a moment as blood rushed downward.  She was getting more and more out of shape by the week it seemed, and she was ashamed to admit that it was true.
Sam just sat and let her gargantuan body settle for a moment, her chin supported by thick rolls under her neck as she let it droop forward.  There was a weight resting on her that had nothing to do with the past twenty years of binge eating.  X-ray results had shown that there was significant cartilage damage in her left knee and a bone spur that would need to be surgically removed before she would be free of the pain in her leg.  Her right wasn’t in much better shape and Dr. Huchenson told her plainly that her only option if she wanted to remain mobile was to drop below 300lbs and even then, she would need an artificial knee, maybe even two depending on how long it took her to lose the excess pounds.  The only bit of “good” news was that she was hormonally balanced and had no signs of the onset of diabetes.  However, the news that she was going into menopause early would have actually been welcome because it would have provided an excuse for Sam’s outrageous eating habits of late.  Now, however, it seemed she had no one to blame but herself.
A tear flowed down her snout and rolled into her cleavage before disappearing into the loose expanse of her shapeless blue shirt and another quickly followed.  Sam hugged nearly 200lbs of mammary tissue to herself not for the first time since hearing the news over the telephone a few days ago.
After her fit, the obese cow dried her chest and face in her sagging blue shirt and glanced at the clock; it was still more than an hour before she needed to leave, but she felt tempted to get going now just to get out of the house for a little while.  
While it would have been indecent to go out while dressed in nothing more than her lace panties and a tent of a blue shirt, as was wont to happen when gaining excess flesh, Sam’s wardrobe was quickly being outdated for her new expanding torso.  Jeans and shorts that Dan, her chubby leonine tailor, had made to be tight on her last year would no longer button all the way and most of her dresses had become skin tight around her hips.  Fortunately, when designing clothing for such a large and wobbly body, there is a necessity for extra room as the flesh bounces and sways, so despite putting on 13 pounds, a lot of Sam’s looser articles still looked just fine.
Sam tossed her blue shirt into hamper, it was covered with orange carrot stains anyways, and waddled heavily into her spacious closet.  After rummaging around the hangers for a while, Sam eventually emerged with a pair of khaki colored bottoms, loose silky slacks with extra wide legs so they billowed like a dress when she walked, and a matching low cut shirt with a dark blue jacket; of course the ensemble came with matching purse.
It was while transferring her things from her usual purse to the new one, that Sam paused while picking up her cell phone.  Her sausage-like digits ran over the buttons after flipping it open with a professional ease.  A study of Sven’s striking blue eyes was the background for all her menus.  A sudden impulse to see him smothered rational thought and she started dialing his number.  It wasn’t expected for the “girl” to actively seek out attention, and not that Sven hadn’t done a good job of pursuing her so far (They had lunch again just two days ago), but Sam desperately wanted something new to take her mind off her current predicament.  After all, she thought, We’re living in a new age.  I can make a date with him if I want.
The rough baritone of the wolf answered after several long beeps, “B-… Hello?”
“Sven, it’s me!” said Sam with true enthusiasm.
“Sam!  It’s great to hear from you.  How are you feeling today?”  The concern in his voice made Sam wince and in that moment, she wished she hadn’t shared with him her problems with her knee.
“Fine, fine.  I’m doing great today… But I just want to get out of this house, I feel like the walls are closing in on me.  Let’s go do something tonight.”
“Uh… err… are you quite sure y-”  Managed Sven before Sam interrupted.
“Yes!  I am quite sure.  Listen, I don’t want to go on a hike… I just thought maybe we could have some dinner together, maybe go see a movie.”
“Ho, ho,”  The wolf chortled with his eastern European accent,  “Why is it that all our affairs revolve around getting something to eat?”
Sam placed a hand on her hip and snorted,  “What’s wrong, lover-wolf, I thought you liked watching me eat.  You were practically drooling on yourself when we got pizza on Friday.”
“Ha! That’s because I’ve never seen anyone put away two extra large three toppings and wash it down with four pints.  I thought it unfair because I hadn’t paid anyone!”
That made Sam laugh and Sven joined in with her.  Ah, this is what she was wanting, being able to poke fun at her own frightening gluttony again made her feel more like her old self.
“Heh… so where do you want to meet?”  asked Sven.
“There’s a Chinese Buffet next to the AMC downtown; it’s all you can eat.”
“Your favorite… Oh I wish I had something to pick you up in.  You shouldn’t have to take the bus…”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to be on that side of town anyways.  I’ll see you at 5:00, o.k.?”
“I’ll be there. Bye Sam.”
After a long series of good byes where neither party wanted to be the last to speak, Sam finally tossed her cell phone into her bag along with the rest of her paraphernalia.  She was about to leave out her extra wide door when a second thought crossed her mind.  She went into her kitchen and dumped a dozen packets of Alfalfa-Bites™ into her purse before leaving.	
With the diagnosis of the bone spur in her left knee, walking had gone from a mere inconvenience in her life to a dangerous affair.  While the pain was managed with her Vicodin prescription, occasionally the pain would still flare if she tried pushing herself, and “pushing herself”  could mean anything from 300 yards of steady walking to 20 minutes just standing.  Needless to say, Sam now lived in constant fear of that stabbing pain whenever she was on her feet and not within immediate reach of someplace to sit down.  In an effort to placate her troublesome knee, she almost never walked by an available bench without taking a few minutes rest, even if she was feeling fine.  Also, she rubbed and stretched her knee as much as possible in the way that her otter physician had showed her to relieve tension and improve blood flow.  In this way, her normal five minute walk to the bus stop was interrupted by two four minute stops, tripling the time it took to get even that modest distance.  And yet, despite how cumbersome even easy movement had become, Sam could not help but become aroused at how her weight was imposing itself on her life… How could she possibly give up the body she loved so dearly?

What actually drew Sam out of her house this day was something she had arranged almost a week in advance at her doctor’s insistence, an appointment with a psychologist.  With no physical explanation for Sam’s outrageous cravings for food, she was left with the possibility that some unknown inner turmoil might be stoking the fires of her insatiable lust for food.  The irony of her mindless munching on snacks while en route to someone who might “fix” her did not occur to Sam.
The psychologist’s office was just a block away from the hospital’s bus station, but Sam’s left knee was singing its malodorous tune as she let her bulk fall backwards onto the metal mesh bench in front of the plain office building.  Sam let eight wrappers fall out of her meaty fist into the adjacent waste basket before bending forward as far as her ample belly and large feminine udder would allow.  Her legs were spread out as far as possible with her over abundant fat reserves juxtaposing itself between her thighs.  Stretching as far as possible, almost sideways, she could just cup the rolling fatty lumps of loose flesh that folded over her knee  from her upper thigh; even though she was seated, the creases on top of the joint were still prominent.  Under the surface, deep inside the fatty tomb Sam had willingly, and even lovingly crafted, the structures that actually performed needed functions pulsed with hot flashes of pain under the incredible stress her body imposed upon them.  Sam kneaded the fat, trying to get down to the muscle back and forth, back and forth and stretched her leg while seated.  Though the exercises helped, it was being off her hooves that did the most help.
When the time finally came for her appointment, Sam nervously checked the weight limit on the elevator before riding to the fifth floor.  “3000lbs…”  I wonder if…  But Sam daren’t finish the thought.  Her psychologist greeted her at the door in the dim and comfortable office.  She had the strong snout and coat of a Labrador, but her ears and face looked more like that of a collie.  However warm their greeting was, however, it was hindered somewhat by the three minutes it took for Sam to extricate herself from the dog’s door frame.  The yellow female dog took a seat in a recliner opposite the typical Freudian sofa chair and Sam was somewhat embarrassed by the fact that her bottom still oozed a good half foot off the open end and felt cramped on the opposite.
“Don’t worry about it,” said the psychologist soothingly.  “Take your time to get comfortable.  By the way, you can call me Dianne.”
As Sam wiggled her tush around, she said,  “And I’m Sam.”
After Sam had settled into a fairly comfortable posture, letting her shoulders drop and her arms rest at the elbow on the enormous curvature of her breasts underneath them, she said,  “Uh… I’m not really sure how this is supposed to work…”
“We’ll just talk about things.  How’s your day been so far?”
“Well pretty good, I guess, for what’s been going on lately, but still far below my ‘normal…’”  Sam went on to tell the pretty young bitch about her recent health issues, which obviously brought up the issue of her impulse eating and her weight gain this year.
“…And normally, I’ve lost about eight or twelve pounds by this time of year which I’d usually gain back over the holidays, but I’ve gained thirteen pounds already!  I could gain twenty more easily by Christmas…  I don’t know what’s going on; I’ve always felt in control, but not now…”  Sam all but moaned, but it felt good to release, even to this stranger, just like it had to Dr. Huchenson and Sven before her.
“Do you remember when your eating habits started to change?”  the young psychologist asked.
Sam shook her head and felt her loose neck fat draw across the top of her exposed chest.  “I really don’t know.  I didn’t even notice anything was different until I realized that I hadn’t started loosing weight after last year’s holidays.  I’d guess sometime earlier this year, but maybe before then also…”
The dog nodded and scribbled something on her little clipboard.  “And how do you feel about your weight?”
Boy was that a loaded question, thought Sam.  But she was comforted somewhat by the fact that whatever she said would remain in confidence; not that Sam was worried that information about her obvious preferences would leak out to the general public, she was an internet super model and an active participant in the FA community, but the knowledge that Dianne wouldn’t be gabbing to her friends about what an obese cow she had been seeing was comforting.  Sam still shifted somewhat in her “little” seat and rearranged her massive bosom as she arranged her thoughts.  “Well, I can tell you that I am perfectly happy with my weight.  I like my body and it was a conscious choice on my part to get so large.  My weight is completely tied into my libido and I like the attention it brings me, both positive and negative.  I can tell you that lots of people out there love how I look and I do too.”
“It’s alright, Sam.  You don’t need to defend yourself here.  I’m not here to make judgments.  But let me ask you, if you’re fine with being heavy, why are you so upset at gaining weight this year?”
“Well, it’s not that I’m gaining weight, persay, it that I’m gaining weight when I had decided I wanted to stop.  Like I said before, I am having trouble controlling what I eat.  I don’t like the feeling of not being able to control my weight, and there are the obvious health concerns since my knee has gotten damaged.”
“How do you think you would feel if your knee hadn’t suddenly started hurting you?”
Sam had to swallow and turn her head away to avoid blushing,  “Well…  I wouldn’t be nearly as worried and anxious for one thing.  And…”  Sam thought hard, reaching deep into herself.  She knew that none of this would work if she wasn’t perfectly honest.  “And, I probably wouldn’t care very much at all really…  In fact I might enjoy it.  It is arousing for me to feel out of control when it comes to feeding and gaining weight.  I probably wouldn’t care until I started having to replace my wardrobe and even then, I haven’t tried to lose weight since my high school days, and I don’t imagine that I would fare any better now.  I’d probably end up having to replace all my cloths and settle somewhere closer to 700lbs.”
The pen flashed across the psychologist’s clipboard as Sam spoke and she wrote for some time after she had finished as well.  “It is interesting that you feel uncomfortable not being able to control your weight and yet find it arousing.  Can you explain that to me?”
“Well of course, I feel uncomfortable eating like a pig even when I don’t want to.  In fantasy, it’s harmless.  Even when acting it out with another person for an evening, it’s harmless.  But when it’s a part of my everyday life, it’s more scary than erotic.  It’s all fine and good to imagine how things might have gone if my leg hadn’t started hurting, but in reality, I have a screwed up knee and my doctor is telling me I have to give up what makes me me to stay out of a wheelchair.”
“Can you tell me what it was like back when you decided to stabilize your weight?  What made you want to settle at 600lbs precisely?”
Sam chuckled, “Well there was nothing precise about it.  I was actually 550lbs when Dr. Huchenson suggested to me that I should probably start cutting down on my gains.  See, before then, I had gained over 300lbs in the five years since my husband passed away.  I was gaining almost 60lbs a year and she told me that I was developing hypertension and I wouldn’t live long if I kept going like that.  So she gave me a diet plan… and well, it didn’t really work out.  I gained almost as much that year as I had previously.  By then, I really did have high blood pressure and I would sometimes have uncomfortable sensations of pressure in my chest, so I decided to work around my appetite and really do something about it.  I went and saw a nutritionist and we had a long talk where I explained to her that I had a massive appetite and it was unbearable for me to go hungry.  She recommended just switching to lower calorie raw vegetables as snacks instead of chips, soda and fried foods.  I tried that and I pretty much halted the weight gain.  I still got to eat as much as I wanted and I even learned to really enjoy those kinds of snacks.  My blood pressure even went back to normal.  But lately, I have been having more cravings for fatty foods, I don’t know why.”
“Hmm…”  murmured the blond haired dog as she chewed on her pen,  “Can you tell me how your sex life has been recently?”
The hefty bovine’s eyes widened involuntarily and she drew a quick rasp of breath, “Erm… What?”
“How’s your sex life been?  Have you been intimate with anyone recently?  It doesn’t matter if you were in love at the time.”
Sam bit her lip, sex wasn’t something that came up in normal conversation.  Poking fun at the fact that enjoyed overeating and being a gluttonous tub of lard with friends was one thing, but never in her own FA community did she regularly talk about such intimate affairs.”
“I understand if it is hard to share,”  Said Dianne after a moment’s pause,  “Society conditions us to be private, and with good reason too.  But sex is nothing to be ashamed about, and believe me, it is important for a correct course of action.”
Sam took a deep breath that made even her substantial assets rise and fall,  “Well, I haven’t been with anyone at all this year.  And there was this one time last year that I really regret because the guy turned out to be really sleezy.”  Sam thought about Sven and their coming date that evening… should she mention that her less than active sex life might have a sudden revival in perhaps as little as six hours?
Again the dog chewed on the end of her pen; she had actually gnawed off the top to the point where the plastic ink container was now exposed.
“You told me that there were lots of people in your community that admire your body.  Why is it that you haven’t found a willing partner in such a long time?”
Again, Sam laughed, “Well it’s not that they’re not willing.  I’ve just been holding out for the right guy.  My parents wouldn’t approve of sleeping around.”
“You’re holding out for Mr. Perfect.”  Said the blond haired dog cheerily.
Sam nodded and winked.
“You’re holding out for someone like your husband.”
That stopped Sam cold.  “Well, no, but…”  she stammered, her mind whirled but didn’t really produce a conclusive answer.  Was she waiting for someone like David? She heaved a sigh, “I don’t know…”
“Can you tell me more about him?  How did you two meet?”
Sam smiled, “I know how it sounds, but we actually did meet in a pastry shop…”

*Thirteen years ago*
A twenty-six year old Sam walked effortlessly into Donut Central.  She would have been almost unrecognizable then, she was simply chunky with bodacious feminine curves and a large rack at 220lbs, and had no idea how much her body would change over the coming years.  As she was leaving the counter, Sam noticed someone who she had seen before, but really looked at him for the first time.  
The canine’s fur was predominately white on his throat and chest, black on his back with streaks of grey and brown on his flanks and cheeks.  He was also very overweight, Sam would have said that he couldn’t have weighed less than 300lbs.  She saw him almost every Friday morning, but he was normally leaving just as she was coming in, often times with large packages in his arms.  She wasn’t sure why now the thought had struck her, but she liked the look of his body and wanted to speak to him.
So Sam started moving to the door, her dozen glazed tucked under her right arm, when she stopped and greeted the handsome obese man.  She invited him to share some donuts with her, and not surprisingly, he leaped at the offer.  Over milk, they introduced each other.
It turned out that it was not merely a coincidence that she almost always found David at the donut shop, he was there every morning and lived just around the corner.
“It’s a terrible habit, I know.” He said as he bit into the third of Sam’s already half devoured box.  “My waistline really shows it.”  He laughed patting the offending belly that pushed forward under his tight grey shirt.
“Someone’s brimming with confidence for being such a butterball.” Prodded Sam.
The big canine laughed, “Hey, being a butterball comes with a lot of perks, you know.  I don’t have to worry about what I eat for one.  I’m never cold in the winters.”  Here he gave Sam a significant look and continued, “And then there are all the ladies…”
Sam grinned as she reached into her box, but her thickly nailed fingers met only crumbs.  Shocked she said, “Are you sure you aren’t part pig, David?”
“Haha, actually, I’m half wolf, half german shepherd… Of course, I don’t know meh mom’s side too well so you never know…  And I am sorry, you just can’t leave food in front of me with out it shortly vanishing.  Let me replace those.”
Sam stood up, taking the half-wolf’s meaty paw,  “I hope the box makes it out to the parking lot”  They both laughed.
They started dating the next day and got married  just five months later.  It seemed like Sam had found the perfect man, he was sweet, compassionate and easy going, usually letting Sam take the lead in the relationship.  
They shared a particularly physical relationship.  Sam couldn’t get enough of his bloated, sagging, furry gut.  David was about three years older than Sam and had been struggling to keep his weight below 400lbs pretty much since puberty, yo-yoing between 350 and 420lbs throughout his twenties.  Now, however, he really started letting himself go, being around Sam and seeing how much she enjoyed watching him eat proved to be just the stimulus his insatiable appetite needed, or perhaps she simply eroded what little inhibitions he had left.  Before their first year of marriage had passed, he had ballooned up over 430lbs and was at the heaviest he had ever been, but Sam wanted even more of him in bed; of course David was more than happy to continue glutting himself, in fact he could hardly control his eating anymore as it was.
Despite his nearly grotesque obesity, David was the sole inheritor of a textile mill that had been in the family since the 1920’s.  So when his father died suddenly from an undiagnosed brain tumor (his mother had fled back into the wilderness early in his childhood), responsibility was suddenly thrust onto David who had never really been asked to participate in the business and with his weight climbing over 450lbs was finding it difficult to just get into and out of a car let alone run a business.  It put a lot of strain on the man, but Sam was always there at night to help relieve the burden.
David bought a computer and was forced to work for hours over the internet and phone from his house.  Almost all day he comfort ate to soothe his stressed mind, burgers, fried… anything really, and steaks were his favorite and Sam gained much of her cooking prowess during this time trying to keep him sated.
So it was no surprise that three years into the marriage, David had grown to a stupendous 580 pounds, lack of exercise rendered his mobility next to nil, but he found that he still had mounds of paperwork to shove each and every day.  Sam had no idea that tragedy was about to strike when she came home one Friday afternoon from her part-time job as a secretary ready for a relaxing weekend to spend with her blubbery chow hound.
The first indication was finding David spread out in all his splendor on the couch, sweating and panting lightly.  However, the very sight of him blinded her, as it always did, to such rational thinking as wondering what he had been doing to tire himself out like that.  All she saw was his gorgeous body.
“Hi Honey,” said Sam walking over and sitting down in what little space remained on the couch.  She was forced to sit in the edge, her thighs and rear having expanded with the years of exposure to David’s heavy and furiously paced diet; She draped her arms around him, one hand on the swell of his gut, the other on the thick, sagging fur lining his bulging back, “You look a little tuckered, was Peter giving you a hard time again today?”
With her touch some of the tension had already gone out of him, but not all, “No, its… not that.” He said.  His bright red tongue lolled slightly out the side of his chops as he undid yet another button from his enormous custom made shirt, exposing the vast tan furred expanse of his flat man-tits and the rise of his imperial gut, rising visibly to its peak from under them.  He took a moment to stretch his left arm out before wrapping it around Sam, pulling her closer into his flab.  She tried desperately not to let out a sigh even as she rested her head lightly on top of his level, yet expansive breast.  “I just haven’t been feeling well today.  My arm’s been bugging me for a while.  Are you hot?”
Sam could tell that David had already lowered the thermostat as the air in the room cool at best, almost cold.  “Awww.  Is my cuddle-hound not feeling well?”  In hindsight, Sam continued to kick herself for not paying attention to his complaints about his arm, but then, lazy as he was, he got muscle cramps almost every day.  “Just stretch that arm out.  The doctor says you need to move around more.”  
David might have said something, but Sam’s attention was more focused on stroking that massive pile of fat that had no right to be filling so completely David’s lap.  Brown that was flecked more and more with black as it approached his crotch stretched out before him in a massive hump.  Completely covering his relatively slim thighs like a blanket, the gorgeous paunch sat inexorably between his knees, forcing his legs out with so much power that David almost couldn’t support it on top of his lap even if he wanted to.  The bulbous heap of sagging flesh was an irresistible force which forced its way between his legs and even pulled him forward a little so that David was almost never found reclining; rather he hunched over it at an angle, one hand on an exposed knee while the other leg took the brunt of the weight.  
Sam no longer recalled what David talked about that night.  However, she did vividly recall how, still dressed in her office uniform, she felt the lust overtake her young body, stretching from deep in the gut and crawling up her spine.  She began pawing at his flesh, so marvelous, so tender, this male who was completely within her power and had even let himself become so at her own behest and coercion.  She remembered his face, that terrible night, gap mouth, panting lightly despite having done anything more strenuous than getting up to use the john during the whole day,  the way the heat radiated from his body like a furnace, burning away the chill atmosphere all around him.  His weight weighed heavily on him, his every motion slow, exaggerated and clumsy; he was terrible at knocking over things while turning with his massive front sticking so far out in front of him that he couldn’t see it properly.  He was helpless, he was hers.  
Sam, with no great subtlety, reached deep under that gut which drew her like a moth to flame, and David’s complaining about work ceased with a tiny squeak.  However, despite the apparent eroticism of the act, she could no more pleasure him at this angle, reaching under his belly from the side, than she could have reached through the good three feet of fat on top of his crotch.  Instead she hefted and squeezed him from underneath, even with her stocky frame, she had not the strength to lift his gut except deliberately from the front.
David, in his odd quirk, growled softly under his breath, aroused by the manipulation of his ample physique.  He was hesitant, however, like normal and some protest came to his lips, “Pudding, couldn’t we…”
Sam, by now used to “encouraging” David into action, pressed a finger to his lips,  “Get on the floor, and take off your pants”  she said, already taking her business coat off.  The sight of Sam’s prodigious assets, even through her tight, respectable bra, silenced him and he slid off the couch and landed with a loud smack and an impact large enough to shake the floor.
Lying on his back, breasts shoved up under his snout and belly shaking, David was out of breath almost before they began.  Sam would have never mentioned his decreasing performance to him.  It was only to be expected, with him being so large; he hadn’t been able to be on top almost since the start of their marriage and like most other aspects in their relationship, he took a subservient role in sex as well.  Still, David was ready, even if he didn’t have much vigor and Sam took to him with enough energy for the both of them, pushing his gut up and shoving him forward.  She slapped his belly continuously all the while, creating such a racket that it was only belatedly that she realized he was shouting not in ecstasy, but in pain.
David was unconscious before the ambulance arrived, his moans and gasps of agony giving way with a sickening suddenness that still sometimes haunted Sam’s darkest dreams.  CPR was completely useless, even in the form modified for obese people.  Despite being successfully resuscitated in the ambulance, there were complications during the emergency bypass and David died on the operating table.
Sam was told only after the fact, never having the chance to even say goodbye to him…
*Present*
Dianne was good enough to allow a minute of silence after Sam finished relegating her tale.  With a touching act of understanding, the golden haired bitch got up and hugged Sam widely, as much as she could fit in her arms and held her for a moment.  Sam leaned forward and was a little surprised to find fresh tears sliding down her muzzle; she thought she had gotten over it a long time ago.
When she did sit back down, the psychologist said, “That must have been very painful for you, for him to die so suddenly.”
Sam only nodded her head absently, wiping the tears from her snout, “Yes, it was.”  The hefty bovine quickly restored her stronger demeanor with, “But that was a long time ago.”
The bitch only looked down at her clipboard and muttered, “Hmm…”  When she raised her head again, she asked, “And was it soon after that you started gaining weight.”
“Well, I decided to gain weight soon after,” clarified Sam.  “I’m still not completely sure why.  My preferences changed a lot after I stopped sulking and moved out of his house.  And it was so easy; I had taken to comfort eating, no surprise, after he passed and I was already up over 300lbs.  I can tell you though, I had no idea when I started that I would end up as large as I am now.” Said Sam with not just a hint of glee, “I grew to like, to love the feeling of all… this.” Finishing, she emphasized her gorgeous, bloated frame with her hands.
Dianne listened, jotted down a few more notes and asked, “And has your preference in men changed at all?”
Sam had to stifle a giggle, Sven was about as lean as they came, hips distinguished, collar and shoulder bones prominent; he wouldn’t have made a fifth of her late husband.  And yet… there was something different now, Sam had to admit to herself.  For virtually the first time, she was actually attracted to him in his own right and not how he simply doted on her; totally unlike her previous relationships with other “trim chasers.”  The image of Sven dressed in wrought iron, medieval armor came to mind as he, personified as one of his gallant ancestors he frequently talked about came to mind; and it made her heart race with lust.  Sam could not deny that there was something different with Sven, but how could she talk about so sudden a difference that she did not entirely understand herself.  The staggering mass of her chest lifted once in a powerful sigh before Sam said, “Well, actually… things are a little different now.  I’ve recently met this guy…”
The better part of an hour passed as Sam first related the story of how they met, unfortunately, this was not aided by pot-marked intoxicated memories, and the admission that her appetite had only grown since meeting him.  “…And every time I’m with him, I just want to stuff my brains out.  I do like the way he looks at me when I do, but it feels more compulsive than anything…” said Sam sagging once more and riddled with guilt.  The sofa supporting her groaned and Sam was reminded to keep more of her weight on her hooves.
At this, Dianne attempted to put the sad remains of the pen top back onto the tip, however, thinking better of it, tossed it into the wastebasket instead.  “Well, Sam.  I don’t think you’re crazy” Said Dianne, adding a smile at Sam’s shocked expression, “And better yet, I think I have a simple solution to your cravings.”
“Really?” Sam could not stop herself from asking as she leaned forward, limp bags of flesh sliding against one another within the folds of her slacks; Sam even felt as one slip. a few inches downward with a minute slap as it came free of the opposite fold which had been supporting it.
“You need to sleep with Sven.” Said Dianne simply
Slack jawed, Sam could only murmur, “…Huh?...” She was sure that she had misheard.  While Sam always intended to make the final leap at some point, perhaps in the very near future even, she could not conceive how this could be a solution to her dietary woes.  “I don’t… I don’t understand”  She said, giving up.
“You’ve already told me that eating and gaining weight is the main drive of your libido.  Your problem is that you haven’t been active… sexually, for a long time.  Men might not be able to go five minutes without thinking about it, but a lot of times women forget that we are sexual creatures too.  Eating is your way of making up for being deprived for such a long time.”
“But it’s only gotten worse since I met Sven, shouldn’t it have gotten better?”  Sam protested.
Dianne nodded but said, “That was a little bit of a puzzler.  But don’t you think it’s possible that you might have been trying, unconsciously, to make yourself more attractive to him?”
It was then that something Sven said, not too long after they had just met came rambling its way up to Sam’s consciousness: “I’m surprised you’re not larger…”  It had made Sam chuckle at the moment, but she began to wonder if she hadn’t taken it deeper to heart than she could have ever realized.  She took a long moment to dwell upon this hypothesis before moving on practically, “So do you think my cravings will go away after me… and him…”
Infuriatingly, Dianne only shrugged, “I can’t guarantee you.  These are all emotional matters.  You can’t just go out do something and expect some deeply hidden inner turmoil to just go away.  But I do think it’s a step in the right direction, and from what you told me, pursuing this relationship may be just the thing you need.  I’d still recommend thinking about what makes you happy in life, physically I mean and why.  Also, while changes in personality after severe trauma are often random and unpredictable, think about why perhaps your sexual preferences have changed since then could help too.”
Sam took the advice to heart and got shakily up to her numb legs to give the helpful canine a departing hug.  Managing to work her way out of the horrible brace that was Dianne’s door in only one and a half minutes this time, Sam was waddling away when she heard the young bitch call out from behind, “Go get him, Honey!”

The floor of the bus jerked visibly upwards as Sam’s hoof left the platform and she got a dirty look from a rabbit who clutched her young child closer to her breast at the motion.  Sam’s hide, both physically and emotionally, was far too thick for such petty jabs to affect her however and hardly even noticed, indeed sight before her occupied much more of her attention, and anxiety.  
The shopping center was huge, with the mall and the theatre serving as main attractions, dozens of businesses thrived not only as satellites around the plaza district, but across the road as well and pretty much anywhere in sight of the massive shrine to commercialism and entertainment.  Despite being early on a Tuesday afternoon, there were still numerous people moving about the shopping center, even though the bus depot was virtually deserted.  Cars were parked thick around every major entrance to the interior of the plaza as Sam looked out across the parking lot.  She stood a few moments examining a place she had once frequently visited with excitement now more soberly.  The black asphalt stretched before her like a vast desert and her formidable bulk weighed all the more heavily on her.  But there was simply nothing to do but endure, so Sam, always practical, swallowed a Vikadin tablet and set out towards the oriental style restaurant floating far and away almost on the other side of the plaza parking lot.
Walking, as a means of actually getting somewhere as opposed to simply getting up from one seat to another, had been annoying for Sam ever since shortly after breaching the 350lb mark, but now it was a distinctly unpleasant exercise.  It wasn’t that she was in pain as she heaved her flab back and forth with each step, it was that she was in fear of pain emerging, especially when she was far from anywhere to sit.  
Sam walked across the black asphalt, with a steady rolling stride; each measured step was calculated so it seemed she walked on sand rather than a hard level surface.  Her legs still swaggered familiarly, however, the thighs each rolling around the other’s vastness; the cellulite hanging limp and bulging from under her thighs and all around her calves bounced, tugging the skin tangibly in the way that had grown familiar to Sam and she grew more confident as she walked, a little like her old self.  Knees bowed out, spine curved forward with the immense weight of her udder and belly and with the support of her behemoth chest, arms that she threw out and back to balance herself and her tiny center of gravity, all contributed to the horridly inefficient manner of locomotion that Sam had grown accustomed to… and loved entirely.  She sat down at a bench placed conveniently between rows of parked cars and looked back the 300 some feet she had come from the bus depot and huffed a breath, and another and another.  Sitting there, despite stretching her leg and looking out to the 9/10th of the journey that still remained ahead of her, Sam couldn’t help but feel comfortable where she was at.  Some moment of insight had dawned on her and she realized that this was who she was and she liked it.  She even tried to think of herself at even the modest goal of 300lbs, but the image wouldn’t form in her mind, it was incompatible with her now; she had moved beyond it and could never return.
Now the Vikaden was really starting to kick in and Sam felt not in the least hindered anymore as she shifted her weight forward, lap filled to brimming under her shirt with the excesses she had welcomed into her life and reveled in.  Udder and belly alike fell and bounced, left then right, rolling atop the surface of her well fed and well used thighs.  Sam wouldn’t give up who she was and felt strong enough to weather whatever might come her way.  The wind changed, coming from the north-east, she smelled burnt batter, cheap oil and seafood from the building ahead; her mouth watered as she set hoof to the asphalt.
Sven was lounging on a bench outside the restaurant as Sam huffed her way up to the door, his silver Prius gleaming in the scant shade of a palm tree.  His black furred face, lean cheeks and long snout of a predator lifted the shadow of fatigue from Sam as she lifted her bulk over the curb with a soft grunt.  Before she even had the chance to greet him, Sven was on her feet and appeared beside her with only a couple of his long legged strides.  
“My dear Sam.” He said taking her arm, annoying and polite at the same time.  “How are you?”  
Sam could not help but notice the way he glanced heavily at the distance between the restaurant and the bus depot.  She couldn’t stand the thought of him feeling sorry for her, not with those round wolf’s eyes.  “I’m fine, really.” Said Sam taking back her arm and walking forward towards to door to emphasize her point.  She laughed to lighten the mood, “I’d be in pretty sorry shape if I couldn’t make it between here and the bus with four stops in between.  Anyways, I’m sweating out here, let’s go inside; I’m starved.”
Sven grinned and the tips of his canines glinted in the summer sun, “I figured you might say something like that.”  Stepping forward of the slow-moving, waddling bovine with virtually no effort at all, he opened the door for her.  His soft chuckle followed her into the lobby.
The Chinese buffet was not a shabby place if not quite high brow.  A white and black tiger battled a dragon wreathed in smoke and clutching a pearl on an enormous tapestry just inside the doors.  The whole place was decorated with bright red wooden posts in the dimly lit seating area with equally red leather seats.  Twelve long buffet tables spread out an amazing variety of food just beyond the reception counted, steam curling around from the sides of the metal trays from the hot water below them.  Even more, besides the row upon row of tables piled high with food, the walls contained a grill where an entire roast pig slowly rotated upon its spit, next to this was a chef slicing fish for the sushi bar.  Beyond, in the corner of the buffet area was a full service salad and fruit bar, the last wall of the wide space which rivaled the seating area was a vast dessert bar lined with decorative puddings, jell-o’s, moose, fudge, cake, cookies as well as a self serve ice cream machine.  Sam swallowed, but a devilish grin lifted one corner of her mouth.  “If I’m this far gone, I’m going to stuff myself because I want to.  Not because of some psycho-babble about not being satisfied.  I’m not helpless, I’m taking control of my life… and I think I’ll start with a BIG salad…”
Sam, however, immediately caught the attention of the slant-eyed mouse who was waiting at the booth as she walked through the, thankfully, wide space of the double doors.  She whispered urgently to a taller black rat who snapped at her quickly in hushed Chinese.  Beside her Sven, who was struggling to find a comfortable pace to match Sam’s slug-like waddling, suddenly took a rather serious cast to his lupine features that she had never seen before; it scared her… but somehow also drew her closer to him.
The taller black rat stepped forward, rather rudely in Sam’s opinion, into the mouse’s spot behind the podium.  The mouse backed away quickly with a small bow the taller rat did not acknowledge and stepped quickly away into the kitchens.  The black rat opened his arms welcomingly and bowed.  He spoke in a thick Asian accent, “Herro, wercome to Shen-hanni Buffet.”
Sam wasn’t sure what to make of the scene she had just witnessed, but she had a sinking feeling it had something to do with her.  For once she didn’t attempt to supersede Sven as he spoke first. “Yes,” Sven said in polite tones that sounded unusually calculated to Sam who had started to notice when Sven was being his “normal” polite self and when he was being artificial.  “We’d like a table please.  Two all you can eat dinners.”
The black rat eyes darted rapidly over Sam, side to side more than up and down.  He looked uncomfortable, but kept on smiling.  He bowed again before speaking, clearly in apologetic tones.  “I solly, but we can’t seat you.”  He said simply and as quickly as possible.  Irritatingly he gave another quick bow after speaking.  Sam’s brow wrinkled in anger and insult that stung more than she would have expected.  While she took care to remember what kind of seating the restaurants she frequented sported and to politely stop going once she was fairly sure she was in danger of breaking the furniture, she had never been before refused entrance (She was used to uneasy stares and flinches at creaks in the seating).  Furthermore, Sam knew how to handle herself on all but the flimsiest of wooden chairs; two, or occasionally three, chairs could support more weight than most people suspected.
Sam looked over to the seating area, while mostly booths that would have required the removal of the table to fit Sam, there were tables and the chairs were clearly made of metal, she snorted in indignation and was about to bring all Hell down on the rat who was more than a head shorter than her in addition to the enormous disparity in mass, when she noticed Sven bristling.  The tall black wolf, a head taller himself than Sam, loomed over the smallish rat, his hackles raised into a wild mane, but his voice was expertly moderated, his tone nothing but polite, “I beg your pardon, but do you mean you are refusing us service?”
Sam laughed internally as she saw the rat wilt under Sven’s intense gaze, but to his credit, he stood his ground.  The rat said, “We have no seating shutiable for your partner.”
Sam saw the way the wolf’s sharpened canines slipped loose of his jowls conveniently and decided to intervene before things got out of hand.  “I think…” she interjected, “…that I should be the one to decide what is suitable and what isn’t.  I’ll be more than happy to compensate you if anything is damaged.”  While trying for appeasement, Sam still made full use of her bulk, leaning forward heavily to emphasize her point.
But the rat still wasn’t satisfied.  He spoke now with no effort at innuendo, “Thoshe are antique’ chairsh!  My grandfazher brought them from China.  Irreplaceably.”
Sam looked over at the straight metal legs of the slender chairs and despite the elaborate designs on the backs of them thought this highly unlikely.  Sam was getting impatient now and didn’t want to argue with this infuriating rat who obviously wasn’t going to budge in any respect, no matter how inconsiderate his position was.  “Look, just put us in a booth.”
“Sam…” Sven looked over at her with an uneasy expression.
“I’ll deal with it.” Said Sam icily and her glare silenced Sven, at once his hackles began to smooth.  She continued, “There, that round one over there.”  She gestured to a corner booth, the sagging skin on her heavily fleshed upper arm swayed and slipped out of her sleeve a little.
The rat seemed to hesitate, but Sven once again leaned over him.  “You are not going to disappoint the lady’s wishes are you.”  It was a statement, not a question.
Finally the rat surrendered and led them to the booth.  The waiter looked doubtful as Sam walked towards the long bench curved in a “C” around a circular table.  Of course Sam couldn’t possibly sidle in through the sides.  Without even a gesture from Sam, the tall black wolf moved the entire table out of the alcove and gestured his obese date within.
Sam smiled and took his proffered hand, “Such a gentleman.”  She murmured and took the entire inside half of the seating area for herself and her expansive rear.  The wooden supports for the bench creaked a little, but Sam just leaned forward a little and spread the weight more evenly between the seat and her sturdy hooves; with so much surface area for her ass the spread out on, she was actually able to relax a little more than she would have on two regular chairs.  However, Sam realized she was not going to be able to completely escape discomfort as Sven slid the table back into its proper position.  It collided with her udder, sitting high atop her thick thighs, while it was still jutting far out into the seating area, far enough even that it would have been impossible for her or anyone else within the booth to put their plates down.
“Here.”  She said and took the table herself in hand.  Pressing down on the smooth, malleable surface of the liquid sac under her slacks, Sam slid the table over it.  That provided a few scant inches until it hit her smallish, but still quite large belly.  Not quite so uncouth as to spread her paunch out over the top of the table, this too she slipped underneath and pulled forward until the lip of the table bit deeply into the soft and pampered adipose of her abdomen; now the table was not jutting unreasonably into the seating area, though it did make the space quite close for any waiters passing between the tables.  Sven took a seat on her right, she couldn’t help but notice how his thin profile took perhaps only ¾ of a cushion meant to seat one while Sam herself felt she was consuming the better part of four under her titanic rear; the staggering difference in their proportions really turned Sam on.  
However, as soon as he sat down, he wouldn’t stop cosseting her.  He crooned over her, asking if she was comfortable, maybe he could scoot over, perhaps adjust the table a little this way.  Sam could only roll her eyes.  Her fattened stomach bulged over the top of the table more than an inch and she was sure she was going to have a nasty purple bruise in the morning; her breasts spilled down from her chest in their vastness to rest on her belly scant inches from the surface of the table; Sven was just being absurd to think that moving the table a few inches to the left or right was going to make Sam in the least more comfortable.  She tried taking a deep breath, but it was cut off by the pressure to her midsection, “Sven…  I’m fine, just go grab me some salad,  I’ll stay and order the drinks; Ice tea right?”
“…Yeah.”  Murmur Sven, the concern he had for her made his steely blue eye just a touch watery and Sam was truly touched.
“You know what I like, just make it big.  I worked up an appetite walking all the way over here.”  Sam grinned, patting the top of her now tightened belly so that it vibrated with her touch rather than its normal jiggle.
Sven got up from the end of the table in a single smooth motion that made Sam appreciate the wolf’s dexterity and said, “I get the feeling I’m going to be playing waiter tonight.”
Sam snapped her fingers twice. “Garçon! Encore nourriture, s’il vous plait.”
Sven laughed and said, “Rapidement, mademoiselle. Un salade pour la femme beau.”  He turned and left to buffet and Sam hoped that she hadn’t opened a can of worms; she knew only a few words in any other language besides English.  She realized that Sven must have several under his belt, coming from an Eastern European nation.
Sven had indeed been around her for a while for the plate was piled high with fresh, crunchy greens and drenched in Thousand Island dressing.  Sven, distaining vegetables with the carnivorous palate of his kind, had brought just a small plate of the roast pork for himself.  “Smart dog.”  Thought Sam as she delicately picked up her fork, the shorter one she reminded herself at the last moment, “He’s not going to have much time to sit around and eat that…”
The salad that she speared liberally into her waiting gullet served only to awaken her appetite which at the moment was not only unrestrained but provoked by Sam’s new gung-ho attitude of life.  Poor Sven, his mouth was watering more over his date than his plate of now cold-cut pork.  When Sam scooped up the last dressing soaked dregs of her salad and plopped them between rows of flat, hard teeth, she had grown more comfortable in her seat; like a pair of tight jeans, she hardly felt the sting of the table shoved into her gut.  Sven obliged Sam by removing her plate to the far end of the table, she already had to reach around her massive melons to reach her plate as it was and couldn’t have possibly managed the feat.  The black wolf sipped liberally of his wine before asking, “What can I get you next, sweetheart?”
Sam waved a hand at him, “Anything at all, wolf-boy.”  She licked her lips, “I’m going to have everything.”
The wolf’s eyes lit up in surprise but his brows quickly smoothed and he grinned, seeming immensely pleased at her response.  “I think the sushi looked rather nice tonight.” Said Sven rising from the table effortlessly.
“Just go get something, I’m wasting away over here,” said Sam scooting the table forward just the barest inch.
The sushi was very fresh and though she had just said she was going to try everything, she still turned her snout up at the raw octopus.  
“It’s very good, I can assure you.”  Insisted Sven while pushing forward the greasy looking tentacle on its small mat of rice.  Sam was a glutton to be sure, but even she had to draw the line somewhere.  She pushed the nearly emptied plate away with a flick of the wrist, which was all she could manage with her arm stretched to its extreme to even reach the table.  “Very well.” Said Sven and snatched the sole surviving piece of sushi and popped it into his mouth.  He savored it overenthusiastically and swallowed, looking smug as if that one piece equated the two dozen that she had already eaten from the plate. “Can’t let good food go to waste.”
Sam smirked and crossed her arms, which for her meant grabbing just above the wrists for the girth of her chest, “Are you trying to challenge me to an eating match, wolf-boy?  I can assure you that you would lose.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” Said the darkly handsome wolf, but his eyes didn’t match the sincerity of his voice.  He reached out, more comfortable now with crossing into Sam’s personal space and laid a clawed hand upon her tight belly; she could feel the pricks of claws through the thin silk of her shirt and the primal danger of the sensation sent a thrill up her spine, “I certainly would be outmatched in capacity.”  He took his hand away and added, “Though I’ve always been fond of trying new things, perhaps it would be good to broaden your horizons.”
Sven’s eloquence and subtly couldn’t be matched, but Sam wasn’t so stupid as to be lost in the wordplay.  What she had heard was: ‘I bet I can eat weirder foods than you.’
Sam giggled, “Well, I don’t know how much broader my horizons can get, if you’ve noticed, but I’m willing to have a go at it.  Go get me some of that octopus and whatever else might be good for me.  Don’t skimp for yourself though.  I would like us to share in the experience.”  She finished with an arrogant smile and sat primply as the wolf rose once more.  She deliberately waited until he turned to add, “And get me some more ice tea, it’s like the Sahara over here.”  The black coated wolf simply nodded, but in his eyes glimmered a fire she had never seen so wild and brilliant in a male before.
Sven proved he had indeed chosen an excellent place to stage such a competition, if indeed such an oddity could have been held anywhere else that would have offered Sam even the slightest challenge, when he came back to the table, not with one plate, but a tray of the nastiest assortment of mismatched body parts, off colored jellies, smelly pastes and strange fruits she had ever seen.  There was a plate of whole shrimp, head, legs and beady eyes intact and boiled red like miniature lobsters.  There was a thick grey soup Sven said was made with an assortment of different fungi and goat’s milk.  A whole fish swimming in a spicy red sauce with its flank sliced for ease of chopsticks actually looked appetizing.  There was even turtle and Sam wondered at the legality of such a dish.
The handsome wolf who now seemed bent on being Sam’s tormentor for the evening slid a plate of what appeared to be sliced hard boiled eggs that had rotted to a deep green arranged decoratively around a small lump of yellow paste with a leaf of mint stuck in it.  “This is thousand-year egg.  It’s quite good and makes an excellent appetizer.” Said Sven while handing her a pair of chop sticks.
Sam was starting to wish she hadn’t been so cocky, looking down at the unpleasantly colored and smelly eggs, but she grabbed the chopsticks in her chubby hand and rubbed them together to shave off splinters.  Sven looked at her expectantly as he began to rub his own and Sam was forced to reach out and grab a slice.  The strong odor filled her wide and sensitive nostrils even without the benefit of breath as she raised it to her mouth.  Despite the unpleasantness, however, Sam was determined; she had never met a food she had turned away without a chance, and she wasn’t about to start now… especially when she thought about how much Sven might enjoy watching her. She hesitantly bit the thing in half.
It was bitter, but the egg itself was wholesome despite appearances, with a creamy texture not present in hard boiled eggs that was completely foreign to Sam.  She reveled in the new experience and took the second half into her lips before she had even swallowed.  The yellow paste tasted strongly of ginger with more than a hint of vinegar, the strong aromas mixing well with the rather bland taste of the egg.  Sam nodded and “mmmm’d” while she chewed thoughtfully and was already reaching out for a second slice before Sven had gotten his sticks to the plate.
Sam couldn’t help but notice how slowly Sven ate in comparison to his normally observed tearing fashion and she had to remind him several times through the course of the challenge to keep eating.  Of course, with there being enough food on the tray for about four people, Sam was the majority shareholder of the “feast;” even a wolf’s appetite couldn’t put a match to Sam’s long practiced gluttony.  Without speaking, they eventually settled on about one portion for Sven for every five of Sam’s; and she kept track of the numbers because she was going to make sure that Mr. Big-talker got his fair share.
Though hideous in appearance and often smell and texture as well, the dishes were undeniably edible.  As they tore through the food, Sam couldn’t help but notice that Sven didn’t seem to have trouble keeping up with his own portions, only seeming to slip up occasionally at a transparent attempt to encourage Sam to eat more (As if she needed encouragement!).  She spied him once more out of the corner of her eye as she held a bowl of fungus soup to her lips.  Sven’s open linen shirt was as loose as his jeans were tight.  Still the sleeves that hung on his arms could not hide the slim bulge of lean muscle on his arm, nor the bones that showed through on his compact shoulders.  The skin on his neck was tight with youth, a single long scar curved from under his collar up behind his left ear, completely unnoticed until now for the dense black fur.  The inward curve of true pectorals was visible through the first three buttons of his shirt left undone.  His frame seemed almost skeletal in Sam’s perception of normal proportions, but he was well fleshed, if trim; there seemed not to be an excess pound on the man.  He wasn’t even heavily muscled, and if Sam had to guess, because neither of them had yet shared their precise weights, she would have put him at under 180lbs, maybe as low as 160, despite his height.  Unlike his upper body, his thighs were thick with substantial muscle.  The muscles slid under the skin and tight denim like well oiled machines, sleek and very hot when he was exercising.  Sam couldn’t resist a gander at that bulge under his zipper, not very prominent, but there despite his firm thighs spread; not the least hint of padding, though Sam wouldn’t have expected it, Sven seemed fully confident of himself.
Sam forced herself to gulp down the rest of the soup and her tongue tasted like it was coated with mushrooms afterwards… it even felt a little fuzzy.  Sven started lapping from his own smaller bowl, occasionally spilling soup from the sides of his chops.  Why they had forgone all western utensils for this match, she didn’t know, but it was definitely fun looking at the lean wolf slobber away at his dish.  Sven wasn’t like any man she had ever dated; she didn’t even know what made her so attracted to him and his thin-as-a-rail body.  Features that she wouldn’t have batted an eye at on any other man came together on him in a way that excited her in a way she hadn’t felt since she had groped David’s sagging belly, steeped deeply with the years of overeating and sloth.  Here, in Sven, was a symbol of everything that she was not, activity, vitality, strength, agility, ferociousness, even lust; handsome as he was, he could have had pretty much any woman, his pores seemed to exude masculinity.  Sam laughed internally, it seemed fate had seen fit to reverse Sam’s role in life.  Fat tub of lard as she was, and seemingly hell bent on immobility, she didn’t know if Sven was the best thing that had ever happened to her, or perhaps the worst.  How could she now abandon that which not only made Sam feel herself, but which drew this impossible man to her?  Even if it meant for her the same fate as he late husband… but then maybe that was just the thing she deserved as well.
All these thoughts and more churned within Sam’s broiling mind, even as she charmingly handed the nearby plate of whole deep fried squid to Sven to take his rightful share.  He grinned and his long dangerous fangs escaped his lips once more as he scooped a portion onto his plate and left the rest for Sam; the contrast between his alcohol softened blue eyes and the deadly curve of his teeth was quite clear for a moment before Sam began the comforting cycle of shoveling food down her throat, hardly tasting it for once.
Sven put up a good fight, but Sam knew she had won when they had gotten down to the vegetable dishes.  Sven had been perfectly fair in choosing the most disgusting dishes he could find, and he began to turn more than a little green under the thin fur of his face as he forced down a creamy paste made from leafy green vegetables and cheese.  Sam took a chip from the accompanying basket and tried some of it; the taste was immediately familiar.  “It’s just artichoke dip.  Don’t be such a wuss.” 
Sven had actually lost his composure for once, “Ugh…” he moaned, “It’s…urp… It’s terrible.”
Sam couldn’t help but rub it in, “Are we done broadening our horizons for today, Mr. Wolf?” she said in an extra cute tone of voice.
Sven frowned and took another chip, but put it back down on his plate before it had even crossed his lips.  The tall wolf who did not look in the least ferocious at the moment stood and excused himself almost immediately after.  Sam had the sinking suspicion that he was going to be sick as she greedily tucked into the savory dip.
It was a suspicion that was confirmed by the length of Sven’s absence.  With nothing else to do, and really almost incapable of getting up by herself from her awkward position, Sam continued eating what was on the table.  She had eaten everything save an extremely odd dish consisting of fuzzy yellow balls swimming in congealed butter that had the unmistakable aroma of aged cheese that she was glad had been left near to the last.
Sven looked much better when he returned to the table but refused the strange fuzzy balls when Sam attempted to force them on him.  “No, no.” he chuckled, “I do think we both here know who has more experience when it comes to fine foods.”
“And don’t you forget it, Wolf-boy.”  Sam put a meaty fist to her chest, “When I say I know food, I mean I know food.  Now I hope you’re feeling up to grabbing me some proper grub.  I’d like a baked potato for one and get me something to wash the fungus taste out of my mouth too, how about some pizza with lots of yellow peppers and capers if you will.”
Sven looked like he was about to laugh, but he shut his mouth in true surprise when Sam’s expression proved she was completely serious.  Bewildered, he looked to emptied tray that he had brought.  Sam saved him the trouble of asking, “Honey, that was just the first course.  You didn’t think I was going to leave without getting everything that I really wanted, did you? Besides, all that weird stuff wouldn’t settle right anyways without something to keep it company.”
Sven truly did look impressed, “You continue to amaze me, Sam” he said, not able to take his eyes of her.
“Oh you haven’t seen when I’m really hungry yet; you’ve got a lot to learn about me yet, Sven.  I’m going to show the manager of this place the real meaning of all-you-can-eat.”
It was honestly the most food that Sam had ever eaten in her entire life.  She didn’t know if it was something with the Vikaden that was enabling her to ignore the pain and the shortness of breath, but she ate enough to fill out both her late lunch and her early dinner.  She finished her last plate by scooping a heavy spoonful of chocolate moose into a waiting sugar frosted mouth whose taste buds were far beyond recognizing even the slightest hint of sweetness.  “Ooff…” Sam wheezed a few short breaths, diaphragm dangerously compacted by her enlarged stomach.  Eyes still closed she asked, “Is… urp… is that everything?”
The black snout of the wolf turned towards her, his expression of excitement and entertainment tempered now by seeing the obvious discomfort of his dinner partner.  “Is what everything?” he asked cluelessly.
Sam woke from her stupor long enough to turn her head at him and give Sven a heavy look.  “The food, was that everything they had?”
The ebony canine laughed, “You were really serious weren’t you?”  He looked around and pulled up the now congealed plate of fuzzy yellow spheres, “There’s still these.”
Sam frown and turned her snout away. “Ugh, those don’t count, I said I’d eat all the food they had here.  Umph…” she said, letting out yet another tiny burp, freeing just a fraction of space in her congested innards.  Sam felt unbelievably bloated, not only her stomach but her upper intestines filled to the brim in her three hour binge; she was going to need to use the restroom very shortly…
With one last grunt, Sam pushed the table clear of her prodigious gut; the relief was unbelievable.  “Well, let’s get going then, hound-dog.”
Sven put a hand on her belly, “Sam, you’ve just eaten about 14 kilograms of food.  Don’t you think you should rest for a little bit?”
Sam, who honestly needed some help getting up was in no state to push her way past even the barrier of Sven’s hand, for all his overprotection grated on her independence.  However, Sven was in a losing position, the table was jutting into the seating area and Sam had no inclination whatsoever of jamming it back into her aching middle; already the busboys were giving them looks and the black rat at the podium was obviously anxious for them to be gone.  “Come on, I still want to catch a movie.”  Sam insisted.  She put her meaty hand on top of Sven’s long and slender fingers, pushing them slightly into her soft belly, “Don’t tell me that you don’t want some nice entertainment… where it’s nice and dark?  Hmm…?”  Raising her hand, she brought Sven’s just under the mound of her right breast which lay stretched across the top of her belly, stretching her tight bra to the brim simply to keep it from sliding down the slope of her gut.  
The black wolf blushed furiously through his fur and withdrew his hand as if burned.  “Ah, yes… erm… the movie, of course.”  He spoke all in a bluster, “We shouldn’t miss that.  Let me help you up.”
The wrist simply wouldn’t do.  The tall canine took Sam’s arm liberally by the elbow, she relished in the sensation of his strong fingers digging deeply into the fat dangling from under her upper arms and clotting her elbow with myriad creases; it was like a garden trowl pulling up on a leather lined sac of play dough.  Sam leaned forward  and got to her hooves with the wolf’s help and as she did felt her heavy stomach sway sickeningly inside her, a tangible mass that seemed to dangle inside her as if from a thin string, she even thought she felt heavier (the waist of her slacks was certainly tighter).  She had to struggle not to vomit right then and there as was wont of her kind in less civilized areas.  But then Sam was certainly not the queasy sort and jealous of her food to boot.  She held it down as she leaned lightly upon Sven, and even with his physique seemed to struggle under the modest amount of her weight that Sam imparted to him.  Walking was still a hassle, however as her legs seemed sleepy and dumb; the mass of her stomach seemed to weigh on her more than the rest of her body combined; she would have liked to take a nap, but the plain arousal she sensed in Sven kept her going.  Tonight was such an excellent opportunity, and if the psychologist was right after all… well that was just a bonus.
Exiting the lobby, Sam spied the inconsiderate rat performing himself a thorough inspection of the bench where she had just sat, but she was beyond insult; there was just no changing some people.  Besides Shen-Hanni had way too many different types of food anyways in Sam’s opinion; they should have focused more on a selection of food, rather than a wide spattering of entrée’s, none of which were memorable.  Though Sam thought she might be tempted back for more of that Thousand-year egg…

Outside the theatre inside the main plaza, Sam was breathing a little more easily; at least in regards to her strained and bulging stomach, she was still sweating and panting like a dog after the short walk through the parking lot.  Sven politely waited and said nothing on the three, or was it four, stops they made on the way into the shopping district.
The afternoon had worn on while Sam had been busy gorging.  The sky was tinted red and was moving on to violet in the east, though the summer sun still had a while to go before complete darkness.  Nevertheless, the torches were all lit around the plaza, a grand scheme including palm trees that mostly shaded the place during the intense heat of the summer and an interesting fountain which sported attractive flames behind a low waterfall that stretched all around from a central pool hidden under a large statue of a magnificent tusked boar trimmed in bronze.  Shops lined all around, this close to the theatre there were mostly snack and lunch operations, a gourmet coffee shop, and ice cream parlor, a steak sandwich bistro and an Irish pub.  Sam’s eye lingered only out of habit on the ice cream shop, the dulling pain in her midsection and her shortness of breath warned against further trespass of her gastronomic limits in pursuit of gluttony.  On the opposite side of the theatre, the plaza twisted out of sight leading, Sam knew, to a fantastic array of cloths shops whose apparel might interest her only if she were looking for something to fit around one of her “cankles.”  
In front of the theatre, a crowd of people milled staring at the overhead board, less than half were in line, suggesting either there were a few large groups who had recently arrived or there wasn’t anything good on at the moment.  The black wolf was still beside her, holding her arm to steady his behemoth partner and while Sam was grateful for the help, she wasn’t about to make such a public statement about her current state of being.  She shrugged him off and he wordlessly accepted the dismissal, instead choosing to walk forward and begin examining the movie times while Sam caught up; she thought it a positive sign of the progress of their relationship that they could operate so well without speaking.
Sam didn’t even look at the movie sign; she didn’t care what was on or what she was going to see.  All that mattered was getting to spend some time next to Sven in the semi-private darkness of the theatre.  Sven was sure to choose a horror at any rate and Sam was more than eager to play the frightened girl and cuddle up next to him.  She was thinking about what that firm buttocks might feel like, half hidden as it was behind that bushy tail of his when Sam recognized a face in the crowd as she was already walking towards her.
“Sam!” Daisy exclaimed and before Sam could react, her expansive middle was being hugged by the chubby arms of her best girlfriend.  The not-quite-as-obese-as-Sam-but-still-fat-in-her-own-right jersey cow released her grip, both of their bellies shaking for the encounter.
“Dais’.  It’s great to see you.  What’re you doing at the movies?” asked Sam, glad at seeing her friend, but also upset at almost certainly having her private time with Sven taken from her.
“We’re here to see The Step-Parent Trap.  I had a free day so I thought I’d make a movie night with my hubby.” Said Daisy enthusiastically, perfectly ignorant of having blundered onto her and Sven’s private time.
It was then that she saw Paul himself coming up behind in the wake of his wife’s exhilarant rush forward.  He hulked more than walked through the crowd, given a wider berth than even his impressive girth warranted; certainly it was more than that given to Daisy or even Sam both of whom out massed him.  Paul had been a linebacker in college and now mostly gone to seed, though the general body shape hadn’t entirely fled him.  His horns were wider than even his broad shoulders, polished and even sharpened despite many a longhorn who had decided to have them trimmed for practicality; certainly he had almost as wide a profile as Sam and had to go through most doors with his head turned sideways.  Aside from his impressive rack, however, Paul was of only slightly larger than average build for a bull in his upper body, and the effect was mostly lost with the addition of his sagging beer belly and love handles.  Though not quite as hefty as Daisy, and not even approaching categorization with Sam, Paul was definitely over 320lbs, probably closer to 350lbs.
Paul reached the girls then, standing over them with his great height, even taller than the lean black wolf who hadn’t even noticed Sam’s company yet.  He pulled his white t-shirt back down over his gut and once more into the security of his too-tight jeans.  “Hey Sam.” Said Paul simply, he wasn’t a bovine of many words, “You.. uh, here to see the new flick too?”
“Shit!” thought Sam, knowing that she would almost be required to attend their silly comedy with them as a couple.  Sam could already imagine Daisy saying, “Wouldn’t it just be so cute if we could all go as couples?” Daisy ate this kind of stuff up almost as well as Rocky Road ice cream made with real brownies.  Still, Sam didn’t lose all hope.  As a last ditch attempt to save her private night, she said, “Actually, I’m here with Sven.  You remember Sven right Daisy?  He’s taking me out for the night.”
The subtle hint went unnoticed by Daisy, however, and Sam almost groaned; Dais’ can be such an airhead some times.  “Oh, you mean that skinny wolf you met the other week?”  The word skinny passed her lips like the word freckled, or lanky passed most others’.  “An honest to goodness wolf isn’t he?  His teeth were so large…”  Added Daisy more than a little timidly.  Sam was more than a little annoyed to have the object of her desires described so abjectly.
She was about to say something she might have regretted later, but she reminded herself that not so long ago she too had felt nothing for the trim and muscular variety of male.  So she bit her tongue.  Luckily for her, Sven arrived, drawn to Sam’s bulk which might as well have been a lit beacon in the light crowd, and saved her from an embarrassingly lengthy silence.
“Sam…” The wolf started, and then caught himself upon noticing her company.  He nodded his head deeply to Daisy and Paul in turn―Daisy smiled and curtsied in the air around her jeans as much as her 400+lbs permitted, Paul was simply looking perplexed for the exchange― “Hello, Daisy, it is a pleasure to meet you again.” He said to the white bellied jersey cow.  To Paul he turned and was actually able to look levelly at the eye with one of their company for once, “I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting each other before.  My name is Sven.”
“Paul.”  The large bull grunted.  One might have taken him for simple, but Sam saw the suspicious glint in the longhorn’s eye and the slight frown that tugged at the corner of one jowl.  Paul was watching Sven very carefully.  Sam could only imagine the disaster the evening would become with Sven’s elegant mannerisms colliding with Paul’s forthright brashness.
The tall wolf simply smiled and Sam was ashamed to admit that she wasn’t good enough at reading his body language to tell if he noticed the bull’s hostility or was just being polite as always.  He turned to Sam at last.  “There wasn’t much starting at the moment, so I got tickets for What Lies Below, but we…”
Sam interrupted the wolf because she knew very well he was going to suggest they could just go in and sit around until a better movie started if she wanted, “That’s just great, honey!” She feigned enthusiasm and pulled Sven unresistingly into her; her giving flesh gave way so that her shirt bulged around the slim canine almost the entire depth of his torso.  Sven was still disoriented after she released him and she took the advantage to say to Daisy, “I’m so sorry that Sven’s already bought tickets.  Maybe we can go see something on Saturday.”
“Really, Sam, it’s not a prob–”  Sven tried to interject.
“Honey.”  Sam looked up at him with a significant, slightly pleading stare, “I know you’ve had your heart set on this movie.”
Sven was certainly able to take subtle hints, but there wasn’t any need for him to say more, for Daisy said, “Oh I wouldn’t dream of imposing.”  She glanced heavily at the two of them, Sven, sleek, efficient and midnight black, Sam four times the width and five times the depth and not a trace of definition on her blobby, heavily taxed body, “You two make a nice couple.”  Daisy spoke just a trace hollowly and Sam doubted that the comment was sincere.
Sam shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she had the whole time she had been standing and her calves were starting to complain.  She wasn’t the least upset though, a medical excuse was the perfect opportunity for a polite exit before Sven made some polite rebuttal that Daisy might take seriously.  She leaned a bit on Sven, forcing the wolf to drastically change his stance.  “Let’s go inside and sit down a bit.”  She suggested in that tone of voice that informed the listener that she was not merely suggesting anything.
Sven swallowed, obviously at ends with ending any social engagement so abruptly, but he relented, under the physical as well as conversational pressure from his partner.  “We’d best be getting inside anyways if we’re going to get proper seats.”  
Sam took his hand and said, “Have a nice time at your movie, Daisy and Paul.”
Despite being almost forcefully led away, Sven turned about awkwardly and added, “It was a pleasure meeting the two of you.”
Daisy said something, but Sam wasn’t paying attention; she had a gorgeous hunk of man-flesh by the wrist and wasn’t about to let go for anything.
Double doors never went unappreciated in Sam’s universe as she walked into the theatre.  Deep inside her, the straining of her gut had faded from discomfort into a general sensation of bloatedness and every so often, Sam would release the excess pressure from the complex gastronomic nightmare that was her strength trained digestive system.  Anyways, she was paying much more attention to her legs which were aching now after walking the distance from her last stop at the entrance of the plaza and the long time spent standing outside.  Her right calf was simply burning, but her left was hurting with the onset of a real cramp, no doubt from the exaggerated way in which she rolled her left leg with the incessant stinging of the bone spur in her left knee which bugged her like someone driving a thick needle into the inner workings the joint every time she put her full weight on it; likewise, the pain traveled up the rear of her thigh, so far inwards of the preconceived notions of the boundaries of her body that she wasn’t sure exactly where it was.  Still it was incredibly minor compared to what she had endured on a few occasions already.
Knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it through an entire movie, Sam excused herself to the ladies’ restroom while Sven took a spot at the end of the incredibly long line at the concession stand with an almost equally long list of things to fetch.  Sven had looked a little dumbfounded as Sam ordered a super sized beverage, a tub of popcorn (no need to mention the extra butter to the attentive wolf), A container of nachos and a great variety of candy bars, but he was beginning to grow accustomed to how Sam ate when she was binging.  The ebony wolf pointed out that he had to almost roll Sam out of the Chinese buffet scarcely 20 minutes prior and Sam responded, “But the movie is very long…”  ‘…and I need something to keep my mouth busy.’ Was the unspoken implication.
Sven seemed unconvinced, however, “I don’t know how you could still have room.  You ate to bursting just now…”  The tips of his ears drooped down a little, “I don’t want you straining yourself on my account.”
Sam didn’t think it prudent to mention that the mere presence of Sven and her evening’s gorging had made her hornier than she could remember being for a very long time; her lustiness made her want to gorge past all sensibility and gave her the fortitude needed to do so.  Instead, she said playfully, “There’s always room for popcorn.  Besides, I don’t eat like this all the time.  I really would be big as a house then.”  Sven’s ears perked back up and she noticed his eyes falling down from her face, though he corrected himself almost immediately.  Sam continued, “But tonight is special, don’t you think.  It just feels right…”
The black wolf had nodded mutely as Sam’s optimism filled her “QQ” or was it “RR” bosom (Sam just settled on thinking of it as “XXX”);  Sam noticed the hungry desire in his arctic blue eyes, very much as if he were looking a stuffed roasted pig at the height of starvation.  She didn’t feel safe in his presence, quite the contrary, but fluttering up to the flame and avoiding burning off your antennae long enough for a second pass was what made life worth living after all, right?
Sam had sent him off with a rather exaggerated command, “Now be a nice wolfie and go fetch my goodies, won’t you?”  Sven smiled, exposing his glittering fangs before turning away.  Sam felt like she was ordering about a hurricane, powerful, dangerous, but also, Sam had to remind herself, treacherous.  
Sam’s ass hurt from using the ladies’ stall without the benefit of boxes on either side to spread out her massive weight as she walking into theatre 20, which was blissfully near the entrance of the theaters as the numbers went down the aisle on the right and came back around on the left.  She was searching for a dark figure in a dim room as Sven hadn’t been at the concession stand when she had finally disposed herself of the tiresome porcelain throne.  However, she didn’t need look far, for on the bottom floor of the stadium seating, the only ones on ground level with the door, she saw the characteristic outline of his ears silhouetted against the softly glowing screen which was already pushing through the previews.
Even though she didn’t have to climb any stairs to reach him, the incline of the floor leading up from the doors of the theatre tangibly strained her tired calves.  Grasping the handrail at the bottom of the stadium seating, Sam took a moment to steady herself, her body still swaying gently at the bubbling cellulite under her thighs within the loose folds of her slacks, and took a few deep breaths.  Thus fortified, Sam swung her right leg around the girth of her left while throwing her right arm and shoulder forward as well to aid in building the necessary momentum to keep her bulky, shuffling body moving forward.
In the handicapped section below the stadium seating, there was plenty of space between the seats for Sam to sidle her way in.  She sat down heavily, though with carful aim, distributing her weight over the most seats possible.  She leaned back, for the first time all night, resting her legs and putting full confidence in the four seats behind her which she mostly filled; though she was rather nervous at the high pitched complaints made by the metal and plastic frames over which her titanic rear was presiding for the moment.  She made sure to sit especially close to the dark figure beside her, her flesh partially invading his seat.  
She felt a shove against the offending lump of fat from her left thigh that was less than gentle.  “Excuse me!”  said the extremely irritated black and white husky sitting next to her, “Could you give a guy some space, lady.”
Sam bolted upright as fast as she could, which was not very, and had the additional embarrassment in the sensation of that bulging sac of fat drawing across the gentleman’s lap.  He pushed it away again and growled under his breath, fuming in silence and not wanted to make a scene so close to the movie starting.
“Pssst!”  came a hiss from her right.  On the other side of the gap meant for parking wheel chairs sat Sven, his long snout and thin cheeks briefly illuminated by a fiery car crash from the movie screen.  Sam waddled quickly over and plopped her fattened underside once again beside the correct partner.  However, fate did not seem to be smiling in Sam’s favor this evening for as she sat down, rather hastily as she was still flush with embarrassment over the incident of mistaken identity, and she heard a spring snap as something definitely bent under her.  Sven didn’t seem to, or at least pretended not to notice however, so Sam decided to leave it until after the movie when the light came back on to look at the damage; she did still have a good many seats still under her to take up the slack and the occupant next to her didn’t mind in the least if a dozen or so pounds rolled into his lap.
Indeed, far from protesting the invasion into his space, Sven sidled closer, adjusting the fat lump thrown off from Sam’s gelatinous thighs on his well muscled leg.  He even patted it and stroked it though the thin silk of her bilious slacks, like a pet adopted as an off shoot from the glutted bovine next to him.  For the first time in a long time, Sam was reminded of just how very fat she was, that she could be sitting, at least as far as her skeletal system was concerned, a seat away and still be, in a sense in his lap.  The feel of his rough paw on her leg made her long for what attentions he might pay to the rest of her and urges long submerged for the better part of two years surfaced with abandon.
“Here’s your goodies.” Sven whispered as the previews came to a close and the screen made its plea for silence.  Sam took the tray from him and rested it on the far lip of her belly that was not already staked out by the presence of her regal rack; always a reminder that the price of having such ample assets (in addition to the back strain) was the loss of useable space on what would have otherwise been the helpful table top of her gut.  The tray was heavy with the addition of her soft drink and Sam couldn’t possibly use either of the cup holders in any of the seats she was occupying.  So as much as she would have liked to drape a fatty arm across the wolf’s shoulders, luxuriating in the examination of that lean musculature he had back there, both hands were otherwise occupied in holding the great burden of her overpriced snacks and eating them; conceivably, she could have held the food in one hand and not eaten, or even set the whole tray aside, but then what would have been the point of that?  
Sam was far, far, beyond hunger at this point, but binging, once she got going, was a terrible habit to break.  That sensation of heady, stuffed-to-the-brim pain in her midsection was ever fading ever present as she worked her mouth.  She gobbled up the food mechanically as a chain smoker puffs long after the real need for a light has past.  It was a terrible habit she knew, just like biting one’s finger nails, except this habit, mixed with her desire had radically altered her body (for better or worse she hadn’t yet decided).  Sam’s hands, her appetite and her ever working mouth, when she was binging, were the devil’s pawns, not hers at all; at this point, eating did not require active attention from her waking brain.  Her hands rose to her mouth, each time with a meaty fistful of greasy popcorn, and her mouth chewed and swallowed, all as automatic as the saliva which burst from her glands to lubricate the food and beging its digestion and eventual absorption into her markedly obese body. And it was, every time she let herself slip into the motions since her husband had died, so very easy.
Sam reflected, as the movie started with a spooky 1800’s murder scene to set the history for the movie’s main plot, which of course would involve to ghosts of the young slaughtered brothers she had just seen, that despite the heft of the tray she had ordered, the popcorn, the cadies, the nachos, it was all carbs and sugar.  It went down easy, as for the tub of buttered popcorn, she might as well been eating air.  Eating the tray was a trivial challenge compared to what she had experienced in the Chinese buffet.  After tossing all of the candy bar wrappers into the empty tub on the floor in front of her, she drained the last of the big gulp and had to release an enormous belch which she quieted through her cheeks the way her big sister had taught her in childhood.  She set into the last of the tray, her nachos as more of a chore; the “scary” parts of the movie were becoming more frequent and although Sam had by now entirely lost the plot of the movie, she wanted the excuse to sidle closer to the lean canine next to her, to feel that sturdy shapeliness of his where she was blobby and amorphous.
When her hands were finally free Sam’s mind turned from satisfying that primal urge to another; her stomach was tight and painful, heightening her lust.  She waited until some ghoul appeared in a mirror just as the camera turned and the speakers released the predicable blat of frightening sounds.  She moved her left arm out and put it around Sven, holding him close as if for comfort, but really she was feeling the man’s shoulders.  The blades under the surface bulged in a way that she was sure could not be part of normal anatomy as she understood it, but then she had been in the fat community a long, long time.  The muscles were soft under the stiff guard hairs of his coat.  She rubbed her fingers down into the soft dander underneath, examining and constantly amazed at the firm consistency of a healthy, well muscled shoulder, that she had forgotten; so much different from fat!  He had the feel of a well oiled and taken care of machine, not an excess pound anywhere, but the muscles were large, powerful and sleek under the skin; Sven wasn’t thin because he dieted or even tried, he had been molded into this nearly perfect form naturally and he maintained it with no visible effort on his own.  “The result of centuries of careful breeding on the part of my family,” Sven had jested, but as Sam explored she no longer doubted that Sven was of quality stock even most furs in their twenties didn’t have such perfect figure.  The wolf could have easily been a model or a star if he had put his mind to it. “And been vain enough…” Sam added to herself.  As she thought about it though, Sven probably wouldn’t have made a good model or star.  He was too reserved for that with that almost unbreakable shell of politeness and chivalry about him.  However, Sam thought that beside her was a man who could have had anything he wanted in the world.  It was exilerating… and a little frightening that it was her that he had chosen.
In response to her wool gathering and physical exploration of his back and shoulders, Sven eventually released his own arm around Sam’s back.  Thos long fingered claws pawed lightly at the bulging rolls of fat that ran down her back in intertvals from her hotdog pack behind her head all the way down to her swell of her massive rear.  He started politely enough, resting his hand on the broad, sloping expanse of her shoulder and then it dropped  to the roll her breast made as it traveled under her arm, around the back to meet its mate all the way on the other side of her.  He cupped it lightly for a long while, but as the movie progressed, he let it slide down further, lingering on what might be imagined as the small of her back.  Sam by now was examining the myriad small bumps that formed the spine of the hound beside her and ribs that were not visible on him could be felt with a light touch from Sam’s fingers.  He was most definitely lean, but the memory of that first night, the way he had managed to balance her swaying bulk from what might have otherwise been a painful and embarrassing fall with swift response and strong support came back to her and the sense of the power the wolf commanded was awe inspiring and intimidating at the same time.
In time, the wolf’s hand dropped even lower until by the end, which had become a non-stop tirade of loud, fast music and camera panning that would be dangerous to those with epilepsy, he was squeezing what he could reach of her rear with his palm.  “You’re going to need more than one hand for that, Wolf-boy.” Thought Sam coyly as she too cusped the wolf’s tight buns with one hand.  Unlike Sven, however, the wolf’s body was so narrow, Sam had her choice of either one or the opposite instead of just what was in reach.  Sven turned his eyes away from the screen for the first time, unlike Sam he seemed to be perfectly enjoying the tacky horror flick, their eyes caught on the tiny image of the movie screen reflected in the their partners; hers a watery brown, his a striking blue.  Something like electricity passed between them, Sam thought and a moment later they were kissing passionately.  Sam groped Sven’s muscular back and he ran his paws along the long smooth crease under each of Sam’s magnificent breasts.  They never saw the climactic and oh-so-predictable final sacrifice of the protagonist to appease the angry spirits and save his family and friends and they never cared.

Outside the theatre, Sam was feeling relatively light on her feet after the long rest in the movie.  “Tonight is definitely the night” thought Sam, “He’s totally into me.” And indeed, Sven was; he was rather openly scoping Sam’s rocking, rear as she waddled out of the double doors before him.  Sam’s heart had long been made to pump fluids for three bodies’ worth of blood and now it was racing as she prepared to commit.  “Now’s the moment.  Sound casual, don’t screw it up girl!”  
“You know, Sven.  You should swing by my place sometime.  I can show you some real food.”  Said Sam just a bit too enthusiastically.  Sam cursed at herself, “No! I sound like I’m peddling myself!”
Sven just smiled.  “You know, it’s not too late in the evening.  Perhaps you could have me over tonight?”  Sven just had to be a mind reader, he was too good to be true.
“I have to warn you though, my apartment’s small.  It may be a little cramped.” Said Sam coyly.
“You mean more cramped than with just you there?”  Cracked the tall black wolf and Sam stuck her tongue out at him as they walked back to the parking lot.
When they reached the tarmac, after a brief three minute rest along the way where Sven obliged Sam by rubbing her bad leg, reaching up high into the fat with his thin, bony digits had made her shiver with delight, Sam turned to him and said, “Sven I’ve had a wonderful night with you.  I’d be so happy if you would swing by my place, but it’s going to take a while for me to get home on the bus.”
For the first time in the evening, Sven got that serious look on his features during those rare moments when his and Sam’s desires were at a cross roads.  It was mildly frightening on his angular and sharp features, certainly more than the movie had been and Sam supposed she would not ever like to see Sven have a temper.  He said, “Sam… Darling.  I can’t stand here and watch you go home on some filthy bus, especially at this hour.  I’m sure it’ll be a tight fit, but I think we can get you in my Prius; it’s only a short drive after all.”  
Sam’s eyes popped open with an ‘are-you-kidding?’ expression. “A Prius?  He’s got to be joking.” she thought.
But he wasn’t.  “Please, I insist.”
The wolf’s eyes were alight with true concern and Sam decided to at least for the moment humor him and took his proffered hand to walk down the parking lot.  Surely once he had seen the size difference, Sven would see his error, far better than wasting time arguing about it and possibly ruining the delicate atmosphere between them.
Standing next to the silver Prius back in front of the Chinese buffet, Sam thought that she was almost as big as the damn thing; certainly her depth from the front of her belly to the back of her rear surpassed the length of the rear passenger’s door, eating nearly half the length of the forward door as well.  But Sven would not relent.  “Just try it Sam.  .  What the worst that could happen?”  
Rampant images of herself getting stuck in the door, ripping her shirt or slacks, or, God forbid, falling and further damaging one of her legs, passed through Sam’s mind and she was about to elaborate on one such scenario when Seven added, “Think about how much faster we could get you home… together.”
Oh that dirty wolf knew how to play Sam like his viola.  She sighed, “All right I’ll try. But you’re going to have to help me.”  Opening the door, the hefty bovine sidled over to the seemingly impossibly narrow opening, she hadn’t tried to fit through such a space since she was 420lbs; and even then it’d been a close call.  “You could start by getting a tub of butter I think.”
“Oh Sam, do you think any of it would reach the door though?”
Sam laughed, she liked when Sven got comfortable enough to joke about her weight.  It helped alleviate some of the harsh reality of the situation and was Sam’s número uno coping mechanism for dealing with the harsh realities of obese life in general.  Still she couldn’t believe the wolf expected her to fit into that tiny little thing.  In desperation, she tried, “Are you sure, Sven, I mean if I break something…” 
“Don’t worry about it, it’s a rental and I have full coverage.  I was planning on getting a car after I had settled into the house and got my affairs in order.”
That settled it then.  Sam could bend the frame of the little car and it wouldn’t cost Sven an extra dime.  Carefully, Sam twisted her right butt cheek into the car’s interior, feeling immediately as her panties and slacks were shoved high where the sun nor any other source of light shined, and prepared herself for intense discomfort.  Sven strode over quickly, closing the distance in just three lengthy strides and crouched, one knee on the floor and put both arms under Sam’s left thigh as she leaned back into the car.  It was like resting that massive leg on a pair of steel bars; braced, Sven didn’t budge an inch and Sam marveled at the man’s strength.  “At least I’m not in danger of falling,” Sam thought, “Not with the Beast right here.” Sam wiggled into the cab, the car sinking almost half a foot and groaning.  She felt her belly and thighs pressing against the backs of the front seats and she quickly began to envy sardines for their comparatively spacious living arrangements.  Still, Sven helped a lot, pushing at the right times, not hurting her or being counter-productive as even her friend Daisy at times was.  It was, in fact, a little strange, the way he handled her so efficiently, almost like he’d done it before.
By the end of it, Sam’s head was pressed thoroughly into her cleavage and her hips were beginning to ache with the force of her thighs crammed together so closely; the fat pressed so hard for feet between them and already the skin was beginning to sweat.  Sven had trouble closing the door until Sam pressed so hard against the opposite door she was afraid of breaking the window.  Afterwards, pressed tightly on all sides except where her gut oozed out onto the central dash, Sam couldn’t help but be anxious to go.  She was going to have a hospital sized cramp if they didn’t get home soon.  Luckily Sven did not need to be rushed and got all he could out of the little car’s four cylinder engine.  The rear of the car banged loudly against the curb as they left the shopping center and Sam knew that sparks flew.
At first, she didn’t know if she could even get out of the car for all the active discomfort was an incentive, but Sven proved just as ingenious as before.  Sam had almost no leverage, with both feet crammed into the car with the hundred and more pounds of fat of each thigh bringing their mobility to near nil and gravity now working against her rather than helping her into the car.  Sven did most of the work, first pushing up her right leg until she gave a weak cry, bending it that far did really hurt, but then it was free and over the tray of the car’s floor.  The release of her bottled up thighs was a monumental relief as the fat surged back down and her legs spread out into their accustomed shape.  The black wolf then easily coaxed out Sam’s now sweaty body, the liquid causing her cloths to cling and the seat seem as if it were made of Velcro.  Every inch was a struggle, but the cunning wolf knew just how to make the most of every of Sam’s lurches forwards out of the rear seat.  
He had to take her weight again as she got the last half of her rear and left leg, the bad one, out of the car.  Her leg was at a bad angle and it was difficult getting it to obey, the bone spur punishing her for angles that were previously taken for granted.  Even Sven who seemed composed throughout the whole affair groaned at the last moment as she slid out of the car before she could get her footing.  She would have fallen, but the intrepid canine held his ground despite her feeling his arms trembling under her.  By the time she had gotten out again, he was sweating almost as much as she was.  When she saw, she burst out laughing and he joined her before they began the short walk back to Sam’s apartment.
The scent of his sweat was highly arousing for Sam; the thought of him having to work so hard just to hold her weight for a moment even more so.  As she waddled, her titanic breasts bounced and jerked more than usually with each step sending a shock through her fat and swaying her belly under their more than considerable weight and she watched in horror as they began sliding apart to either side of the dome of her gut.  It was then she realized that her bra had come undone through all of the troubles in the car.  Heavy globes of fattened mammeries at the end of thick and wide trains of skin and fat bumped and lurched their way down the soft slopes of her belly fully an arm’s length away at the inexorable tug of gravity underneath her shirt.  She wanted to stop quickly and hug them to her chest, but she found she was already unconsciously using Sven as a makeshift cane, leaning on him considerably each time she took a step with her right leg, so her right would not have to take as much weight; he would notice if she stopped.
She panicked and reached for her chest with her left arm, but the right was currently slung over Sven’s shoulders and could not act quickly enough for the boob which rolled softly off the gentle slope on top of her gut and fell to her side under her shirt.  The weight of it was uncomfortable for the skin alone to bear upon her chest, stretching very tight along the heavy stretch marks which recorded the rapid growth of her chest not too many years ago.  Her right breast collided with Sven’s trim waist.  The black wolf cocked his head down and while Sam was all flustered and embarrassed, fumbling with her astray bra and the weight of her left breast, more than an armful, simply grinned.  With a new level of familiarity, he took the watermelon sized appendage and rolled it back into plave atop her belly, and to Sam’s surprise, she let him; not since her late husband had she let another man handle her like that.  It felt surprisingly good to be under his control and to know that he cared.  She smiled at him and took the double armful of her chest in her arms.  “Thank you.” She said quietly.
“Anytime, Darling,” said Sven.  It was in that moment that Sam first realized the depths of her emotions for Sven ran deeper, much deeper than the physical.  She didn’t simply want to have his strong and slender form between her legs this evening, she wanted him to be by her side during the holidays and not simply watching her gorge herself, but celebrating them with her and the following years as well.  She wanted to see his black fur beside her when she woke and not feel simply the thrill of passion, but the use and love that come with everyday life, to have him there always even when his looks, and hers, she thought unconsciously, should fade.  She wanted to be with him like she had never wanted anything before; she felt almost like a young calf again, day dreaming about marriage, but this was a mature and grown up version of that, and it ran much deeper and stronger.  She was suddenly afraid that he might not feel the same way.
Sven walked forward and stood beside the door as Sam trundled forward carrying her heavy load; never had she truly appreciated the weight of her chest until now as she waddled, having not even to hold them up but simply keep them from falling, and never had she imagined what a burden a simple clothing malfunction might be.  Imagine if I was even larger… Sam thought with mixed feelings of horror and dirty pleasure for they came in twine.  The cow was finally forced to release her burden at the door when she realized she needed her keys.  Her ponderous assets fell smoothly away to either side, but the swell of her torso had them hanging symmetrically at the top folds of her love handles rather than below the waist.  At least I am wide enough that they hang out in front rather than completely at my sides like fried eggs on a nail.  Sam thought glumly as she quickly fumbled in her purse for her keys.  The weight of her breasts was uncomfortable to bear while standing for long, the tight skin creating something like a pinching sensation on her chest and she knew from her doctor that it wasn’t good for circulation either.
Sven stepped forward as if to help her with her sagging chest once more, but Sam said, “No it’s alright.”  Once was thoughtful, twice was getting frisky.  After fishing out her keys, Sam opened the extra wide door with a turn of the knob.  Sam didn’t know what she was expecting exactly, but as the door opened into the tiny, half sized living room, the door beyond to her darkened bedroom and the open arch leading into the expanded kitchen, she felt the small apartment she had been comfortably living in for the better part of a decade suddenly inadequate.  
Sam walked in and couldn’t think of a thing to say.  She gestured widely to the four close walls, “Well, this is the living room.  
Sven took a seat on the chair which was much flattened and widened by Daisy’s girth and looked around. “Cozy.” He said.  
It was as if all of her years of dating men and romance with her husband had never happened and Sam was transformed once more into a nervous high school youth experimenting with her first sweetheart.  
Desperately, she tried the first thing that came to mind.  She gestured towards the kitchen, “Do you… want something to eat.?”
The black furred wolf chuckled deeply and patted his flat midsection, which showed absolutely no trace of their night’s culinary excursions, “No, I’m really not hungry.”  He did a double take of the enormously obese bovine in front of him and Sam almost had to laugh.  “But don’t let me stop you.”  He added innocently.
Sam’s insides felt packed and congested, all four stomachs seemingly filled to the brim.  Comfortable numbness had descended once again, easing the pain, but the deep sensation of bloating lingered and Sam knew that she taken in just about all she could.  Still, that look in the wolf’s eyes hungry but not for food; Sam thought, no she knew that Sven liked seeing her make a pig out of herself.  That in itself was nothing special, just about any man at the FA club would pay top dollar to see her slob away at a mountain of food.  What was different, what made this night special in Sam’s heart was that she wanted to do it for him.  The thought that she was willing to push her limits for the first time since she had stopped trying to gain weight for this man convinced her that he was special, perhaps the one.
Thus, instead of spreading her ass out on the couch and un-tucking her shirt to let her belly and udder relax like she wanted, Sam turned into the kitchen and said, “In that case, why don’t you just come and sit in the kitchen.  I’ll show you what real food is like while I make myself a small snack.”
The wolf definitely perked up and with his long legged stride, was in the kitchen almost before Sam was.  The hefty bovine planted her rear on her rolling stool while Sven took a seat at the table; Sam didn’t feel the urge to test her weak leg and besides, the volumes of food within her weighed heavily, making her uncomfortable and feel a little ill just at the thought of having to force more yet down her gullet.  
The worst, and most ironic, part about becoming so fat, Sam felt was that it made making food so much more difficult.  It made pretty much everything more difficult (and some things impossible), but Sam indeed longed for those days in her late husband’s house where she would fly about the kitchen preparing three or four dishes at once, all to make David even more cuddly and soft.  Now, even though the pressure had been taken off her legs, there was still the effort of lifting her arms to work at the too-high counters; the large sacs of fat draping under each upper arm making this a more than considerable task.  Her troublesome breasts fell away to either side of her belly once again, and strangely she did not feel embarrassment now that she was in her own house and Sven the only onlooker.  The pinching of stretched skin and fat was only a minor inconvenience, however.  What really made cooking difficult was the ever expanding size of her gut, which pressed against the lower cabinets while she was a full arm’s length away.  Even smushing the knobs of the wooden doors deep into the skin only bought a few inches and holding her arms straight out while chopping and stirring just increased that heavy weight of fat on each of them.
Sam decided to stick with something simple and dumped some orzo into a pot of boiling chicken broth before chopping the tops off some green peppers.  Most furs ate their stuffed bell peppers with ground beef, but Sam preferred the vegetarian recipe.  “Besides,” she thought as she stuffed the peppers with strained orzo and them lined them up in a pan, “If there’s less protein, it won’t fill me up as much.”  She dumped the leftover contents of the chicken broth into the pan to make a bath for the peppers  and then grated quite a lot of fresh cheese on top of all six peppers before covering the whole with aluminum foil.
Sam wiped some of the sweat from her face and rolled over to the table where Sven sat while the stuffed peppers baked.
“You are truly a great chef, Sam.”  Sven commented to Sam’s back as she rotated on the stool to finally rid herself of the broken bra in her shirt, the clasps had indeed broken from stress; damn she was fat.  “I wouldn’t have thought that something like stuffed peppers could be made so quickly and easily.”
Sam carelessly tossed the snapped bra onto an adjacent seat where it would be out of view, but remembered at the last moment as it left her fingers where she kept her cell phone.  The fattened cow winced as she heard the $200 phone clatter to the floor, it was still brand new.  
She was reaching over her massive midsection to get it, when she saw Sven’s face already under the table.  “Let me.” He insisted as he grabbed the phone.  Sam bent back up and felt a tiny pop in her lower back, having such desirable assets definitely had its costs.  “Doesn’t seem to be broken.” Sven said as he handed it back to Sam.  “And that is a great picture.” He added smiling deviously
Sam looked down and saw the background for her touch phone, a cropped photo of Sven, showing just his blue eyes, the eyes of a hunter, the eyes of a beast.  She blushed under her coat of black and white, “Oh, it’s just… hee hee.”  She couldn’t deny that she was caught, but Sven didn’t seem to mind that his image had been used thus, indeed, he just seemed to renew his interest in the creature before him that outweighed him by three times and more.
Sven took her hand, she was always surprise by how quickly he was able to do that, and looked directly at her.  “I like your eyes too.  They are soft, like the rest of you,” he grinned, “And they are caring and full of your passion.”
Sam wanted to reply in kind, but she was afraid at first, everything she liked about him sounded negative when put into words.  He was wild, he was frightening, strong, fast and oh so sexy; it sounded like again like a high school crush, but Sam felt deep in her heart that there was much more at work here than just the stirrings of her loins.  “I think I love you, Sven.”  Came the words, and Sam was shocked to hear them coming from her mouth.  But words, like one’s heart, are irretrievable and Sam could only wait for what Sven would say in response.
The tall, dark canine held his peace for what seemed an eternity.  It was good that he had realized the importance of what Sam had let slip, but it also made Sam afraid that he had to think so long.  It almost made Sam cry right there when the next words out of his mouth were not “I love you too.” But then she remembered that Sven was far too elegant for that.
“You are truly a treasure, Sam.  Never before have I met a woman who has made me feel the way I do now.  I thought…”  Sam almost gasped as Sven actually seemed at a loss for words.  “I thought that I simply lusted for your body.”  She shook his head now, “But this time that we have spent together, short as it has been, has opened my eyes…  I never thought that I would find love in the place of my exile.”
Sam didn’t want to ruin the moment, all she wanted what to grab that skinny wolf and hold him to her breast and kiss him till she was out of breath, but her stupid, stupid mouth.  “Exile?”
Now the wolf’s eyes flashed and had to reap the rewards his his loose tongue.  “Yes, Sam.  I came to this city not to start a new life but because I have been ousted from my old one.  It is a very long story, but I have been… kicked out by my family and forced to leave my home country.”  The memories had seemed to weigh heavily on his slender frame, but a toothy smile lit up his features.  “But I would change nothing, for how else would I have ever met you?”
Sam bit her tongue until she was sure that it submitted to her will and then leaned forward as much as her bloated torso would allow.  Sven came forward the rest of the way and put his arm around her neck, groping at the thick fat padding its base.  He kissed hard, almost pulling Sam into him and his hackles raised with his passion.  Sam went forth with as much energy as she could, but she learned caution quickly after pricking her tongue initially on his sharp teeth.  Her arms flew around his chest and even with his thick, bunching muscles under her fingertips, it still wasn’t enough.  Before she knew was she was doing, she was ripping his shirt off, heedless for the buttons with her fat clumsy hands.
It took only moments for the shirt to slip off around his shoulders and the sight of his midnight black coat, shiny in the light of the kitchen further aroused her passion.  Sven was reaching under her shirt, caressing her rolls and the smooth, stretch-mark covered mound of her belly with great tenderness; he was going much too slowly for Sam’s taste.  She pulled off her own shirt then, the billowing cloth could have made a fine pup tent for Sven and it swamped onto the ground, embarrassingly large, but Sam was beyond caring.  
A moment passed between them then, in that instant as the shirt fell to the floor, filled with electricity.  Sam hadn’t stood shirtless before a man in over a year and even then, she had felt uncomfortable at the time; she felt more like a woman than she had since… since David had died.  To be wanted to be desired so obviously, Sven’s eyes were like those of a starving man looking on a Las Vega buffet table, it felt so good.  Sam had forgotten what it was like and mourned the wasted years.  As his arms came towards her once more and she felt certain that they would not separate again for a long while, she felt the tingle of primal fear crawl up her spine at the sight of those sharp claws and fangs on such a well tuned predatory machine and the reminder of her own soft, helpless body; it fed her libido like gasoline on a barbecue.  Strangely though, in that moment, she felt an enormous sense of peace as if she had unknowingly carried something all her life and had suddenly let it go.  Then his arms were around her, squeezing with seemingly impossible strength for one so lean; she felt like he could lift her up as easily as a cushion if he wanted.  She didn’t know how, but then they were in the bedroom, Sam in just her panties, not that there was much to see, loose slacks having fallen off on the brief trip from the kitchen after they had been unbelted.
Sven groped and squeezed furiously, probably bruising the tender fat in some places, but Sam didn’t care, she wanted to be in his power, she wanted the role David had served her for so many years and it felt good.  Sam sat heavily  on the bedside, almost pulling Sven onto of her, but he let go at the last moment.  His mouth open, Sam saw his tongue was the bright red of fresh blood, just like back at the night club when they had first met; God had it only been three weeks?  Sven slipped off his pants and boxers in one smooth motion and that which had been left to the imagination was revealed to Sam at last.  The black wolf pounced then and taught Sam a new lesson in the heights of passion.  Later, though time seemed to loose much of its meaning, Sam smelled burning peppers, but she didn’t care to get up and the spicy incense only served to bathe their lovemaking with a scent equal in intensity as the love they showed one another.