Chapter 2: Nina Says She's Fat

After I got out of the shower, I started thinking back over the sequence of events, and how slowly all of this got started...

It was a Saturday morning, not unlike many others, and we had just finished having breakfast, still in what we wore for sleeping. I had on a t-shirt and old sweatshorts, and Nina was wearing an old t-shirt of mine, and a pair of boxers. The boys were supposed to be in their rooms, supposedly getting dressed, but we knew they'd be in the same room, sprawled out on a bed reading comic books, or roughhousing with each other.

We were slowly finishing our morning coffee, and passing sections of the newspaper back and forth, when Nina suddenly put her mug down and announced, "I'm getting fat, and I need to do something about it."

I looked across the table at her, and raised one eyebrow, but knew better than to open my mouth and agree with her. I had learned long ago to duck the "do these pants make my ass look fat?" question, or to migrate into another room when she started trying on clothes and looking scornfully in the mirror.

After a moment, she said, "It's true. Yesterday, I tried on a dress that I bought a month ago, and I couldn't do up the zipper. According to the scales I think I've put on at least five pounds in the past couple of months."

While not agreeing with her out loud, I did have to admit to myself that she seemed to have a little more to love than a year ago. She had bounced back from both pregnancies quite quickly, setting a goal each time of wanting her pre-baby body back. I remembered how she went for long walks with one, then two children, and how many hours she had pounded a bicycle to burn off the excess weight.

The results had been amazing both times. Nina isn't well-endowed up top, being only a full A-cup on her most bloated days, but she does have great legs, and a remarkable ass—high, round and tight. When she wears high heels, the effect on her calves, thighs and buns has most men watching her walk long after she has gone by.

But, I had to admit, the legs didn't look quite as toned as I liked them, and her rear was definitely larger, and somewhat softer. When we had sex these days, my fingers felt like they were sinking in a little more than they used to. While I wasn't complaining, since I knew better, I still wouldn't mind getting my better-shaped wife back. I'd heard the expression "the bigger the cushion, the better the pushin'", but I'd still prefer someone who leaned toward being "built for speed", since my Nina is a dynamo between the sheets.

My thoughts were interrupted as Nina continued her self-deprecating tirade. She whipped up her t-shirt, and showed me her somewhat loose abdominals (along with her breasts, unintentionally). "Look at this gut. I've got loose flab, and a poochy stomach," she complained while grabbing a fistful of skin. "This is disgusting, don't you agree?"

Whoa—danger ... danger. I could almost hear the alarm bells going off in my head, and I clamped my teeth down to bite off the "Yes, dear" that nearly escaped without thinking.

"It's not that bad, and besides the view's pretty good from where I'm sitting."

Looking down, she realized that she was showing more than just the flabby stomach, and quickly dropped the hem of her t-shirt. "Men!" she huffed indignantly. "It's true—all men are pigs, including husbands! All you need to do is flash them and their brains stop working!"