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When I met Joe in my senior year in college, I was as skinny as a stick at 6' and 135 pounds. Joe was also very slim; at 5' 6" tall and only 115 pounds, there was hardly any fat on his body at all, and he earned part of his tuition via modelling gigs during breaks and summer vacation. |
Despite his slender figure however, Joe loved to cook, and our Friday evenings were often taken up with creating an incredible feast and getting me so full I was ready to explode. "Come on, " he would say "just a few more bites!" as he shovelled a huge fourth helping of Thai Chicken and rice on my plate. "Doesn't it smell good?" And as full as I had thought I was, there always seemed to be more room.
After stuffing me to bursting, we would retire to the bedroom where Joe would put his arms around my belly and lovingly caress it, "I love a man with a full belly!" Yet, because I was running track and biking back and forth to school, I didn't put on any weight, at least until after graduation.
After we graduated Joe and I moved in together and had a combined Christmas/house warming party. After putting out an incredible spread and talking for a while, Joe and a few of his friends retired to his room, while I went next door for a bathroom break. Through the wall, I could hear his friends laughing:
"Dave is really cute!" "He is a dreamboat! But don't you think he's too skinny?" "Yeah, his hips are so bony, it's a wonder he doesn't cut herself!" "Joe will take care of that!" the guys started to laugh "Who was that guy you were with... Robert?" "Didn't he put on around 100 pounds? Last time I saw him he was so fat he could barely walk... looked like he was over 300!" "Joe likes them fat, that's for sure!" "I don't know about Dave though... Looks like he'll stay skinny no matter what Joe feeds him!" "No way!" this was Joe's voice. "You'll see. I'll fatten him up!" "You wanna bet? I'll bet you $100 that you can't put 50 pounds on him by Christmas!" "$300 says you can't get more than 25 pounds on him!" "I'll bet $200 you can't put 30 pounds on him by new year's!" "You're on!" Joe exclaimed. "I know how to fatten a man! I'll bet I can put at least 60 pounds on him my next Christmas... and you'll owe me $600!" Joe said.
I must admit I was shocked to overhear the conversation.... Joe wanted me fat? Well, I would do my best to oblige! Even though I hadn't gained much weight before graduation, my job as a desk clerk in a furniture store made me cut way back on my exercise and with Joe making bigger and more incredible meals than ever, the weight wasn't long in piling on.
Around July 4 we have a barbecue and Joe invited his friends over again. By this time I was up 165 or so, a pretty noticeable gain for a guy who had been at 135 when they last saw me. Most of the added weight went to my belly, which protruded noticeably even when I tried to suck it in.
As the guests arrived, Joe was positively beaming, and when his friend Simon saw me, I thought I saw a smirk cross her face. Simon was really cute, and later on as I came out of the bathroom, he brushed by me in the hall, and had to squeeze through. As he brushed by, he squeezed my love handles and gave a little poke to my belly. "Hmmm... you're filling out!" he said.
As happened the last time, a little later the guys retired to Joe's room, and once again I went into the bathroom to listen to their conversation.
"Dave has been filling out! It looks like he's even getting a bit of belly!" "He's definitely fattening up!" "He is doing real well" Joe said. "but he's still nowhere near as big as I want him!" "You DO like them big!" one of his friends exclaimed. "I'll bet by Christmas he'll be fat as a pig!"
In order to get a head start on cleaning up, I went back to the kitchen and started scrubbing some of the pots and pans. Joe’s friend Ron came in to help out, and after we'd worked together a while, my t-shirt got loose, exposing a roll of belly fat beneath it. "Hey!" Ron said, teasing me. "What's this? You're getting chubby!" I blushed. "Don't be embarrassed," he said. "I think chubby men are sexy. If you ever want to get that belly REALLY full, give me a call." With that, he slipped a card with his phone number down the front of my pants. Although I didn't call, I do admit that the attention was flattering.
During the summer I continued to gain, although somewhat more slowly due to our outdoor activities. As a result, by the beginning of the fall I had gotten up to 190 pounds. However, with the shortening of the days, my exercise fell off dramatically, and with Joe's adding huge breakfast on to his already enormous dinners and weekend brunches, the pounds really began to pile on. In September, I put on 12 pounds, and in October, 15. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around I had gone over 200 pounds, and I was looking forward to seeing Joe's friends again.
During Thanksgiving week Joe really outdid himself, cooking two 25 pound turkeys, half a refrigerator full of stuffing, candied yams, cranberry sauce, and an assortment of pies, cakes, and cookies that made my mouth water. To make sure that each dish was absolutely perfect, Joe did a trial run, and of course made me finish off the test servings. As a result, by Thanksgiving day I'd probably had 4 or 5 full thanksgiving stuffing's, and had completely outgrown my wardrobe. In order to make sure that I'd have "room to grow" Joe insisted that I buy all my pants with a 50 inch waistline, even though I had only a 40" waist at the time. Even with a loose shirt, by now my belly had gotten so big that it protruded very noticeably, looking like a basketball under my shirt.
This time Ron came to me in the kitchen, blocked my way and stuck his finger in my belly button "Mmm.. you're getting really chubby, aren't you? Sure you don't want to let me help you fill out?" He then patted my love handles and said: "I've asked Joe and he says it's ok." "Really?" "Yup! He said I'd be amazed at how much you can eat!"
Well, as good as Joe’s cooking was, Ron was a pretty incredible feeder. From the minute I set foot in his apartment on Friday night to the moment I left on Sunday night, he kept me eating non-stop. At various points I thought I would explode, but he always eased up, gave me a belly massage or some encouragement, and waited until my moment of fullness subsided, then resumed feeding me.
When I got home on Sunday night, I felt like a beached whale, and as Joe slipped his arms around me and surveyed my hugely overstuffed belly, a smile cross his face. "Looks you've been VERY well fed!" he said, poking my belly. "Let's get you on the scale." I got on the scale, and the dial came to rest at 252, representing another 12 pounds! "Wow!" Joe said. "What did he feed you?" "Ron kept me eating non-stop, even feeding me in the middle of the night." "Sounds like we'll have to start some snacks to your diet... wouldn't want you to feel deprived" Joe said.
From that point on, Joe noticeably increased his efforts, adding a midnight and 4 AM feeding to those incredible breakfasts, dinners, and brunches. With Christmas coming on, Joe began a furious baking spree, and like all of his culinary concoctions, the results inevitably made their way to my waistline. By Christmas day I was up to 285 pounds, and after my weigh-in, Joe pulled out a Santa Claus Suit and asked me to try it on.
To my shock, the pants were so tight that I could not get them up over my belly. As a result they hung so low that it barely covered my huge backside, let alone my love handles and belly. Joe got me a little red vest that covered up somewhat, yet still left little to the imagination. Then he began to feed me Christmas cookies and other sweets up until the moment the guests arrived. As a result by the time people started to show up I was as stuffed as I had ever been, and my belly was taught and spilling over the waistband.
Since I was somewhat embarrassed at my skimpy costume, I remained in the back of the apartment until Joe called for me. "Dave, come out here and say hello to everyone!" I waddled out from the back, making sure to put on my beard and hat. As I came out into the living room, I could see several of Joe's friends break into a grin. Ron and Simon in particular seemed pleased to see me. "Dave, you remember, Simon, don't you?" Joe said. "Sure." I said. "We met at the July 4 barbecue." Joe went off to mingle with several of the other guests. "Yes," Simon said. "I remember squeezing by you in the hall." I blushed. "Don't be embarrassed" he said. "Joe's been feeding you, hasn't he?" "Yes, he has" I said. "Well, he's doing a great job. That suit looks like it's getting kind of tight!" Simon laughed, poking my love handles. "Though it gives us all a good view!" Ron chirped in, grabbing my love handles from behind. I was so embarrassed, that I excused myself and went back to kitchen.
Joe came by and took me by the hand. "Babe, don't get so flustered... they mean well." Joe said. "It's just that sometimes I wonder if they're making fun of me for getting so fat." "Simon and Ron aren't like that. They both really like fat guys. Some of their boyfriends were absolutely HUGE." "They've been coming on to me something awful." "They're just teasing you. I've known them both for years. Don't worry about it." "OK." "I've got something else we should talk about. Back when we first met, Simon, Ron and I made a bet..." "About how fat you would get me?" "Yes, how did you know?" "I was in the bathroom next to our bedroom, and overheard the conversation!" "So you've known all along?" "Yup!" "Well, today is the weigh-in day. After the other guests have gone, will you come back to the bedroom for the ceremony?" "Sure."
I was in the kitchen cleaning up when I heard Joe's voice. "David, can you come to the bedroom?" When I went back there, I found Ron, Simon and a few other friends gathered around a doctor's scale. Joe sidled up to me and put her hand around my waist. "Back last Christmas when David and I met, many of you wondered how I could possibly be attracted to a skinny guy. Well, as you can all see now, David isn't skinny any more." There was lots of laughter. "Back when we first met, David only 135 pounds. As you call see, he's considerably bigger now." "I'll say!" Ron exclaimed. "To prove to you just how good a cook I am, David has agreed to a weigh-in." I mounted the scale, and Joe adjusted the weights until the scale finally balanced at 335 pounds. "Wow, two hundred pounds, exactly!" Joe exclaimed. "Here's to the next two hundred pounds!" Ron exclaimed. Everyone started to clap.
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