Chapter Text
It was crazy, really, how good for my health eating my wife had been.
Less than a full week and her entire body had been digested. No bones in the shit, no lumps in my belly, just good-quality wife fat and wife muscle spreading across my body. She would’ve been so proud. She’d loved fattening me up. Our old conservative goal for my weight gain was 250 pounds. Not huge, but far from my starting weight when we’d gotten married and a good place to check in. But I’d long-since plateaued around 240.
One slab of dead girlmeat in my belly later, and I clocked in at 277. Most of her spread to my stomach, rounding me out sensually, but my hips, thighs, chest, ass, even face were all fatter. I couldn’t keep my hands off myself for a month. The areas my wife had fatted me in were so sensitive now, any touch or jiggle sent an electric pulse straight to my cunt. Even my slick had changed. There was more of it now, of a thicker consistency and with the faint taste of roasted pork.
I was even 3/4 of an inch taller!
But the best benefit to having eaten and digested a live person was to my mind. I felt ridiculous for ever having hesitated. My wife had been right. I didn’t miss her at all. I felt no regret, shame, or loneliness. She was dead but we were closer than ever, our marriage stronger. A marriage that would never end.
—
My wife, thanks to her pre-devoured efforts, was declared dead in just two months. I was cleared of any and all suspicion. God, it was so funny getting to go around playing the grieving widow role, hugging friends, hugging my in-laws, and knowing I was pressing her up against their bodies without them knowing. That set off another masturbation marathon. And that set off my meeting… her.
An internet friend of my wife reached out to give condolences and, at the same time, ask for a picture of my bare stomach. My wife had loved her gainer websites, after all. I sent the picture — really a selfie of me and my wife, I liked to think — in exchange for one back.
That photo… her hot, tight little body, dark-skinned, petite, sleek, with a cucumber shoved up her cunt and three of her own fingers shoved down her throat… well, it was love at first sight.
We messaged every day. Then we started calling. Then she started flying out to visit me. Then she never flew back. Our wedding day coincided with my wife’s birthday, a mere five months after I’d devoured her.
I had no intention of a repeat experience. But life has a funny way of giving you what you need, not what you think you want.