Abby wore her anniversary gift as she picnicked at a local city park with her husband. James had found a seamstress who had agreed to recreate the dress that Abby had worn the night James proposed to her. He had been even more pleased when she agreed to do so for free, provided the dress was returned when Abby outgrew it. The dressmaker explained that it would serve as a great advertising device. It had been an easy agreement for James because he was sure that Abby would outgrow it within a week. It was a small, body hugging dress, emerald in color and strapless. ‘No hope of being repurposed the way she turns long dresses into short dresses.’

James looked up at his giant wife. She had been 5’ 4” and 120 two years ago. Last year, she had towered over him at 12’ 4” and barely managed to fit in a restaurant with him. Now, she stood 27’ 8” tall and approximately weighed eight and a half tons. Every day she was eating in excess of four hundred pounds of food. James remained 6’ and was a muscular 170 pounds. ‘She’d feel a bit uncomfortable for a few hours, but she could eat me,’ James had realized while managing her weekly menu.

At the park they met their team of chefs, who had begun preparing a pig roast. More accurately, they had prepared two pigs: a pig for James, the cooks, and a few butlers and their dates; a pig for Abby. Hundreds of boiled potatoes and ears of corn would supplement her main course. Small casks of wine had been brought, though James had been careful to make sure that she would not have enough to get drunk; she had to walk home and neither of them needed the headache of her crushing some homeless man or causing property damage on accident. 

Abby looked at the salad in her hands. They had disassembled several dozen heads of lettuce along with peeled cucumbers, sliced onions, peeled carrots. The vegetables were piled in a child’s swimming pool. They had given her a fork which she was pretty sure was just a pitchfork with a shortened handle. She did her best to scoop up a pile from the leafy green mound on her plate and bring it to her mouth without dropping any on herself or the ground. ‘Or on James, that’s all he needs at dinner is his klutz wife raining the world’s largest salad on him.’ Abby had always thought of herself as clumsy, while James had never doubted that she was the most graceful woman on Earth. 

James watched his wife eat as much salad as a community picnic would consume. A butler had arrived with a glass of wine for James, while two other butlers carried a mini-cask for Abby. They set it on the ground while a third server used a crow bar to pry the lid off. Abby’s massive hand closed around the keg the way she might have held a beer can two years ago. “Mmm, good wine,” she said. 

James couldn’t actually see how much she drunk as she kept the opaque cask in her hand, high above himself. He suspected she had gulped down half of it already, so he warned her, “We only have one more of those here, so pace yourself.” She looked down on him, a face the size of a billboard and gave him a pouty look. “We have more at home, promise.”

His comment made Abby realize what James had done. “I’m a big girl, I can handle my alcohol. I don’t appreciate you making that decision without consulting me.” She drank down the rest of the keg. “We have servants here, make someone go get more.”

She set the empty cask down roughly next to James, who stood up to better talk to his wife. “I should have talked about it with you,” said James, who was backing up to make eye contact. ‘Her breasts really make me get some distance to see her face,’ he observed. “But, Abby, is it really a good idea to drink a lot when you need to walk home.”

She looked angrily at James. ‘Why is he being so controlling?’ Abby decided that James was looking shifty, he had begun to sweat as well. ‘How dare he.’ Abby spoke with a low, flat voice, “Do you really want to fight me, or are you going to get me more wine?”

James saw her disapproval all over her face before he heard her annoyed and authoritative tone. “I guess I don’t want to fight you on our anniversary.” He walked off to send someone for more wine.

‘You don’t want to fight me any other day either,’ thought Abby. Servants had already left the preparation area near James and Abby’s picnic spot, carrying her another cask. 

James returned shortly after. He looked at his empty salad plate, which had been half full when he left. He stared up at Abby, who took another swig from her drink, before looking down at her husband. She saw annoyance on his face. Abby, staying seated on the ground placed her near hand on her hip and shot a mean look back at James, “What?” she challenged.

James backed down, “Nothing,” he responded. ‘That’s right nothing,’ thought Abby. ‘He still needs a little more breaking. This pup is a too aggressive.’ James had realized that he needed to change his disposition and that he had failed to deescalate the tension that was overshadowing their anniversary picnic the way his wife’s body was literally overshadowing him in the park.

“Do you like the dress?” James asked. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his wife brighten up at the question.

“Yes, I love it. It’s a wonderful gift.” Abby really did love it. ‘He might be too paternalistic and disrespectful and dishonest, but he knows my taste and our history, for sure.’ Abby was pleased to see that James responded positively to her own expressions of happiness. James watched with concealed concern as she drank her fourth cask. Her face was growing red.

The servers then brought out the main dinner. James had barely finished his pork when his wife was asked him if he was going to finish his dinner. “Abby, please, if you’re still hungry, the servers will get you more.” She ignored her husband’s suggestion, ripping the plate from his hands with just her index finger and thumb. The corn and the potato were barely crumbs for her, and she tipped the plate into her open mouth, the starchy veggies disappearing in an instant. She dropped the empty plate on her husband’s lap. James couldn’t keep his annoyance concealed, “Okay, fine, I’ll go get the leftovers for you.” 

“Thank you,” Abby purred. ‘There we go, this is better. What a lovely anniversary dinner I’m having.’ When James returned, he had managed to rescue a few dozen potatoes and ears of corn as well as nearly a third of the roast pig. “This is a wonderful anniversary dinner, James.” She picked up the remainder of the pig with one hand, ripping into the cooked flesh and tearing through cartilage, crushing bone as well. She didn’t bother picking through bones anymore, it was simply too inconvenient. James scarfed down the side dishes he had gotten himself, fearing his wife might beat him to the punch a third time.

“Dessert is at home, honey,” James was in no rush, as he had imagined that they would stay at the park for several hours, enjoying the long daylight that came to the upper Midwest following the spring equinox and daylight savings time. Abby, however, had different plans; namely, eating the dozens of cakes that were waiting for her at home. 

She got up and stumbled just slightly, her foot crashing down next to James who turned ghostly white for having been nearly crushed by his wife’s drunken misstep. “Oops,” she slurred. “Commeresweetie.” She picked James up, ‘First time she’s picked me up in one hand,’ James thought, and deposited him in her bosom. She shifted him around to make sure he was wedged in well, her enormous bosom keeping him in place. She giggled slightly at the sight of his lower body disappearing between her gigantic breasts. 

James could feel his feet find contact with the dress, while he rested his hands at his sides on top of her titanic ta-tas. His hips were firmly wedged by her cleavage, but much of his upper torso remained free. He did his best to lean back, keeping himself close to his wife’s body as she began stumbling home. ‘Please, please, please keep up that fantastic posture of yours,’ thought James. ‘If you bend over, I’m going to topple out and break my neck.’ After five harrowing minutes that felt like thirty, they arrived home.

“JAMES! Where’s my cake!” Abby called out, apparently forgetting her husband was in her bosom. She apparently remembered after yelling out, looking down her nose into her cleavage. She giggled fervently and pulled James out. “Get out of their silly, it’s dessert time.” Several large chocolate cakes had been placed on the table by their employees, apparently responding directly to Abby’s call for food. Abby set James down on the table and began devouring one of the cakes. “Mmmmmm,” she intoned, licking her lips. “Here, let me give you some.” James watched as his wife scooped a chunk of another cake with the tip of her index finger which was as long as her arm had been two years ago. She forced the chunk into James’s mouth. Or more accurately, she shoved much of it onto his face, as the chunk was itself much too large to fit in his mouth.

“Well, look at my messy little man,” this intoxicated giantess teased. James saw a twinkle in her eye, followed by her hand reaching for him again. She picked him up, holding him several feet above the table and pulled his pants off, followed by his underwear, socks, and then his shirt. Then she took his body and mashed it onto one cake, and then the next, coating his body with mushy chocolate confection and frosting. She put extra attention on coating his head and his crotch. “You look so tasty, James.” She brought him closer to her mouth. James could see the saliva coating her tongue as she opened her mouth and stuck her wriggling tongue out to meet his face.

She licked the length of his face, her tongue totally covering his features as she licked the cake from his head. James was in her grasp, his hands pinned to his sides by her hands which completely encompassed his torso. Her tongue withdrew into her mouth, before he saw her lips part wide. Her teeth and then the back of her throat came into view as she put James’s head in her mouth. James was in darkness, he could hear only the slippery sloshing of her tongue and the mixture of cake and saliva being worked into her gullet. He felt his body being pulled backwards, and his head followed with it, while Abby’s lips and tongue gave his head a farewell kiss. 

“You taste so good. Too bad I’d choke if I tried to swallow you.” It had been the first time James had gotten so far into her mouth; she had never put his head in like that. James remembered that she had smothered his groin with the dessert as well. He had already been sporting an erection, but it now got so stiff that it was hurting.

“Keep tasting me,” he told her. Abby smiled before opening her lips, and then lifting James up higher, holding his shoulders with her fingers, bringing the top of his head level with the top of hers. She began working her tongue up and down James’s legs, as she gradually lowered him the more progress she made cleaning the cake off of him. When she reached his balls, he was now clinging to her nose, his head just slightly above her eye level. She held him up with her tongue, her grasp on his shoulders serving as a mere assurance he would not be dropped. James couldn’t believe how good his testicles were feeling, his wife’s tongue was like a wide, sensual bicycle seat. She parted her mouth slightly as she withdrew her tongue, pressing James into her lips with her free hand. She teased and lightly sucked her husband’s penis. James lasted only a couple minutes before coming all over her tongue. He had to tell her he had released, as she hadn’t even noticed. She grabbed him more firmly around the waist again, swallowed the mess of cake and ejaculate on her tongue and began finishing the job of licking her husband clean.

She was beginning to feel more clear-headed. ‘Not drunk anymore, just buzzed,’ she thought. She had James in hand, holding him near her chest. She looked with pleasure at his blissful expression. His skin shimmered as the light caught the saliva he was still mostly coated with. She could tell he had enjoyed dessert as much as she had. As Abby walked back to her bed, she wanted more from her husband than sweet flavor. She reached her room, set James on the bed, quickly undressed, and then grabbed him again.

She plopped herself on the bed, which groaned and bounced in response to the impact of her tonnage. Keeping hold of her husband, she began kissing him, smothering his face in her lips. Abby loved the sensation of rubbing her tongue over his face, feeling out his features. With her other hand she began gently tickling herself, just enough to get the blood rushing to her other lips. Abby set her husband down gently, so that he was standing on her throat, bent over at the waist over top of her chin while she gave him one more kiss before picking him up again with her grip reversed. She moved him down along her body, headfirst towards her genitals. She stopped playing with herself and instead began rubbing her husband’s head on her labia, moving him up and down. James offered no protest, but she could feel his penis getting erect again as it brushed the bottom of her pinky finger. His forehead provided force and hardness, followed by his semi-rigid nose, and then his tickling tongue as she rubbed up and down. As she went slower, she could faintly feel his breathing on her moistening mound. 

Abby moved James ever lower now, bringing his penis into contact with her clit. She turned him around again, so that his head was faced towards her and his belly rested just above her vagina. His legs dangled, resting just inside her outer labia which had spread apart in her state of heightened arousal. She put her arm over the back of her husband, reaching down the length of his body and placing her index and middle finger on one butt cheek, and her ring and pinky on the other. She rubbed him back and forth, now with smaller and more directed movements as she forced his stiff mast up and down along her clit. Waves of pleasure were beginning to emanate, and she let out a moan. She was getting closer to orgasm, and she began squeezing and pushing James’s rear end more forcefully. She relaxed her grip as she began to orgasm; as her muscles contracted and sent feelings of ecstasy coursing through her, she could feel James begin pumping forcefully and his penis spasm as it was pressed against her glans.

Abby relaxed, laying on her back and feeling the heat continue in her vagina, her juices still flowing. James was still resting on her vulva, panting. She pulled him up, dragging him onto her body, where she watched him turn himself over, resting spread eagle on her belly. She effortlessly turned him back over, and set him next to her tit, pushing his head onto her nipple. James seemed to read her mind, and began licking it, softly pressing his teeth into it just enough to cause some sensual pain. Abby rubbed herself for several minutes before coming again. James, seemed to realize she was spent, and sat down, resting his back against her enormous breast. They say together like that for fifteen minutes, each of them spent and content. Their post-coital tranquility was interrupted when a furious grumbling came from Abby’s stomach.

“You are so lucky I’m not bigger that I am, right now,” she told her not-yet bite sized husband.

***

Abby had protested, but James knew he had to take a stand. “I have to sleep separately from you. It’s not safe for me in your bed anymore, there’s too much risk of you just rolling over and squashing me.” It was a week after their anniversary, and Abby had grown another four inches taller. She weighed over nine tons; her breasts alone weighed around nine hundred pounds. Abby had been pushing against her husband’s request for months. She had tried letting him sleep on top of her, but she was not comfortable sleeping on her back. James was too uncomfortable and fearful of sliding off her when she slept sideways. 

Abby debated putting her foot down, figuratively, the debated putting it down literally. ‘He’s right,’ she thought, ‘but I need to make it clear it’s not his decision to make alone.’ As much as she liked having James with her in bed, she liked the idea of keeping him alive for future fun and games even more. ‘Oh, and I love the little guy,’ she thought after listing the rest of the benefits of protecting James. “Fine, but make sure you push your bed near the balcony so I can reach you easily.”

“Thank you, I know this isn’t ideal, and I wish we could still share a bed, but this is for the best.”

Abby nodded her approval as James walked off to arrange his room in a way that pleased his wife. Bored, Abby decided to help her husband move his things. She opened the miniature closet in her room and grabbed most of his wardrobe in one hand. As she stood up, she noticed how sparse her own closet was. Her incredible growth had meant for nearly two years that she could only wear any piece of clothing once or twice before it no longer fit. A number of dresses had been designed with extra material so they could be expanded and worn several times over the course of a month or two, but this approach generally only worked with longer and baggier outfits. ‘Something’s not here,’ she realized.

“James, where did my green dress go?”

“Well, you outgrew it. It was form fitting when you wore it, and your measurements have all grown at least six inches since a week ago.” James could see that Abby appeared hurt. ‘Shit,’ he thought. “I mean, we get rid of your outgrown clothes all the time, I guess I didn’t realize you would want to keep it.”

“It was my anniversary gift. How could you just get rid of that without even asking me?” Abby felt tears forming. ‘What a stupid, selfish man.’ She dropped James’s clothes on top of him and stomped off to the living room, where she ate truckloads of ice cream and binge watched Webflix for the rest of the day.

***

Dr. Stoke arrived at the O’Brian’s home again early in June, measuring Abby at 28’ 9” and 18,890 pounds. “Well, let me check some calculations here... well, our best guess is that you’re in great shape for a woman your height.” The doctor took vital measurements and blood from Abby as she had during all her prior check-ups and returned with the results. “Same story as before, it’s going to be at least another year. Let’s see, according to the growth chart here... wow, you’ll be at least 65’ tall.”

‘She’s going to reach the ceiling in this home too,’ thought James. ‘There’s nowhere else in the city she can live indoors, this was the biggest building with empty space. We’ll need to move to the suburbs, maybe the countryside... she loves the city though.’ James asked the doctor, “Can we schedule you to come back the next two months?” 

“Absolutely, that seems like an entirely reasonable idea to me. Frankly, I’d be here every day if you let me. But, uh, I understand your desire for privacy. Yes, yes, I’ll have the office make the appointments.”

The doctor left and James approached his wife, who had been surly and distant with him following his mistake with her dress. “Look, honey, I know you’re mad at me, but we need to talk about that diagnosis.”

Abby sighed, overcoming her frustration to talk to James. “What did you want to say?”

“We need to talk about moving. That diagnosis means that a year from now, your head will be scraping the ceiling, and that’s in the tallest part of the house. There are already large areas where the roof only comes to forty feet high.”

“Well, fine, we’ve moved a couple times already, what’s another move?”

“Abby, there just isn’t anywhere big enough in the city to house you anymore. We’re rich, but even we don’t have the kind of money it takes to build a personal sky scraper, let alone the cost of just getting the land to do so.”

“I love the city, you know that.”

“I do. That’s why I asked for the doctor to come back each of the next two months. I like our home, and I can tell you love the neighborhood. So, we’ll see if we can get lucky and maybe find out whether your growth will end in 13 or 14 months from now. You would have to decide whether you’d be okay with stooping your head down in your own home again.”

“Thank you for thinking of me,” Abby replied. She was genuinely happy to hear evidence of James’s thoughtfulness again. ‘Maybe it’s time I forgave him,’ she thought.

“I’m not saying we have to move if things come back with more news of growth, but... well you need to think about it and make a decision.”

***

A few weeks later, James and Abby were watching the NBL championships together on their couch, watching the seventh and final game in the final series. Jok Williams and the San Diego Clappers were playing a road game at the San Antonio Spars, a team headlined by the largest woman in the NBL. Angela Gutierrez had just managed to stay under the height limit, standing 9’ 11” tall. She had become a dominant player in the NBL, though nowhere near as overwhelming as Abby had ever been. Somehow, despite being a professional athlete, Angela had grown even fatter than when she had been drafted. James did the rough math in his head and guessed that when Abby had been Angela’s current weight that Abby had been nearly four feet taller.

She wasn’t just fat either, she was in poor fitness as well. She rarely ran back to play defense, leaving her teammates trying to play four on five well enough to allow her to lumber around the offensive hoop. She was a poor role model for basketball players, and a bad example of personal habits. It wasn’t unusual to see her stuffing her face even while sitting on the bench, her massive backside covering up three chairs. Her team compensated her laziness and sloth by substituting her out for defensive plays as often as possible. When she occasionally did play defense, her sluggish movement frequently lead to her delivering dangerously powerful fouls. She had swatted men over the way a bear could deliver a blow.

‘She’s tall enough to be the best player in the league, and she wastes that opportunity by stuffing her face,’ thought Abby. The true star of the Spars was a much more traditionally size point guard who was an amazing shooter. He was also the chief face of the second most popular apparel company. “Check this commercial out, James.” James watched as the point guard engaged in a dribbling routine on a basketball court in the city, before pulling up and releasing a J into the basket. “Try to be great,” the tagline of the commercial said.

“Well, what about the commercial? Seemed kind of plain.”

“It’s not that commercial that’s really interesting, but it adds context to the commercial I just made. Athena got a leaked version of the script. That last ad shoot I did was a response.”

At halftime, Athena’s commercial came on. It featured an actor that looked similar to the Spars’ point guard, doing the same routine. Large booming noises increased in volume, until finally the actor dropped the ball and fled. As the ball rolled out of camera frame, a giant, basketball-shoe clad foot stomped into frame, the Athena checkmark clearly visible. The camera panned up Abby’s foot to Abby’s face. “Don’t just try to be great. Be dominant.” Abby stepped on the camera frame, the Athena checkmark again prominently displayed on her sole.

“That was pretty hot, honey.”

“You think so? Maybe I need to threaten to step on you more often, then.” 

***

“You know, this is the first month you’ve grown two feet or more.” 

“Hmm?”

“From start of June to end of June, you grew over two feet in height.” Abby was now 30’ 9” and passed 15,000 pounds in weight. Her meals had surpassed James’s bodyweight.

“Abby, there’s something more serious I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about kids.”

“James, you know that ovulation stops during TS. I couldn’t have kids if I wanted, and we both know it’s at least a year before I could.” Abby hadn’t wanted to discuss the topic, but she had begun to doubt she would ever have children, even when her eggs began releasing again. ‘Who knows whether I could be safely pregnant? My body might crush the baby while it was still in the womb.’

“I know, but when we got engaged, I told you that more than anything else in the world that I wanted to be a dad someday. And you said you always pictured yourself as being a mother eventually. I think we should consider adopting.”

This development surprised Abby. She had always thought that James’s urge to be a father was some sort of reproductive urge, some effort to pass down his genes. ‘He really has a fatherly urge.’ Abby thought about his request briefly, before deciding she needed more time to consider it.

“James, I want to be honest, I had sort of moved on from the idea of ever having kids, though I didn’t realize that until you forced the topic.” She could see grave disappointment on her husband’s face. “I need more time. I’ll consider it.”