Jim Grantham was fat, because he had big bones, and his glands were skewwhiff and acting like
lunatics. He didn’t eat very healthy, but he had a healthy appetite. Well, it could be said that pizza had
vegetables on it, sometimes on a twelve inch deep pan you could get your entire five a day ... in little
pieces.
Jim’s one desire was to receive oral sex from his wife, preferably while he was driving, but, his
dick hadn’t seen the light of day for a while due to his stomach; which was a sac filled with porridge.
His wife, even though she practiced with mini barbells, couldn’t muster up the muscular strength to lift
his stomach up to do the deed (maybe she didn’t practice hard enough). Mind you, being fat wasn’t
half bad, as Jim got waited on hand and foot, plus the fact that he didn’t have to go to work ... heaven!
(Nearly).
His wife Julie preferred him being so fat too, because once, when he had been thinner, he had
been very abusive to her, so she had learnt to cook, and made sure all the rich delicious food she
served him had made him fatter and fatter, until he was so fat, he could hardly move. So, him being fat
served them both. The oral sex, well, that she considered to be just another pleasure-less wifely duty.
The fair had just moved into town, and Jim’s mate had been round to ask him not to attend
because they were dirty Gyppos, and that Castle Rock, Maine, didn’t like dirty Gyppos (well, the
boring obnoxious bastard would say that because his wife had run off with one two years previous).
Jim though had wanted to go while he could still walk, to see a fortune teller who would tell
him if he was ever going to get oral sex from his wife. He had tried one on the internet, but she just
said “Try to stop eating pizzas and all the other junk you eat, exercise a bit, and you may just receive
your desire.”
You need to be thinner.
Jim knew that, but being obese meant that he got the associated pleasures too, plus his wife’s
gorgeous cooking, and the positives outweighed the negatives; calories were good! So he wouldn’t
have listened anyway.
Jim had a cold the week of the fair, so Julie went with her friend. Julie went into the fortune
teller’s tent. The fortune teller, Madame Golondi looked at her ... “Hmmmm? You are troubled, the
crystal ball is NOT happy. You want your husband to be fatter, but he wants to be thinner, but also
fatter. The reason you want him to be fatter is so that he cannot move, which suits him down to the
ground. But he wants to be thinner so you can give him oral sex, probably while he’s driving. But, the
benefits of being fatter are very, let’s say, arousing to him. He just can’t make his mind up, thinner,
fatter, thinner, fatter. And you are adamant, fatter, fatter, fatter, fatter. Your two minds are causing
much upheaval in the part of the spirit world in your house, especially the living room ... can you
imagine trying to float through clouds of thinnerfatterthinnerfatter? Request from your local spirit
world ... “could you stop please?”
“OK” said Julie ... “What about thinner and nicer?”
“Ah!” Said Madame Golondi “You want a spell! Not your fortune reading.”
“That sounds good” replied Julie. “How much are spells?”
“Well. We Gyppos don’t do White Witch stuff, we usually do spells as curses, and our payment
comes in your suffering. So, in order to get me to curse you, you have to piss me off.”
“Really? So, you’d curse me if I ... let your caravan tyres down?”
“Yes.”
“Ok then, give me a minute.”
Julie left the tent. A minute later she re-entered the tent.
“Erm. Sorry about this, but do you have a pen or something I can hold the valve down with.”
“You want to borrow a pen off me, so you can let MY tyres down so I can curse you?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Look. Sit down, your nice shoes are all muddy now.”
Julie sat down.
“What is your name?”
