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Since I was in college, I had been slender. At 6" and 140 pounds, I was skinny as a reed. That was, until I met Lee.|
We met through a blind date, suggested by my friend Al. Lee and I talked over the phone, and he described himself as "needing to lose 20 pounds." When he asked if that bothered me, I said no. I have always enjoyed the plump figure.
I fell for Lee the moment I saw him. He was wearing a black shirt, which showed off his blue eyes and blond hair. He was truly stunning. I also noted with satisfaction that he was quite a bit plumper than he had let on over the phone. My guess was that he weighed around 230 pounds. We had coffee, and then arranged to meet for a dinner at his place the next week.
On arriving at his apartment, I was greeted with a feast in preparation. On the dinner table was a seven course meal, including incredible desserts. In wandering around the kitchen, I noticed several plaques, for cooking contests that Lee had won. It turned out that he was a restaurant and wine critic for the local paper, and had gone to culinary school in France before eventually leaving the restaurant business. It was during his time as a cook that he had put on most of his weight, he said.
We sat down to dinner and pleasant conversation, and I must say that I have never had a more incredible meal. After around an hour I was completely and utterly stuffed, and yet had not gotten around to dessert. Lee frowned when I told him I simply could not eat any more.
"I can see I'm going to have to work on improving your appetite," he said. "I like my men to be healthy eaters; how else can I indulge my love of cooking?" I agreed to try to eat more after a short rest, and we retired to the living room where we gazed in each other's eyes, and made some brief chit chat before the talk turned to sex. Lee confessed that he was very attracted to me, but was concerned that my eating habits would not allow him to involve me in his favorite sexual fantasy, which was force feeding. I countered by saying that I would try anything once, and that I would be honest with him if I disliked it.
With that, Lee asked if I wanted to stay the night, and I said yes. We undressed, and went into the bedroom for some of the best sex I have ever had. For my part, I found it very enjoyable to sleep next to Lee's soft and round body.
In the morning, I awoke to find Lee bringing in a huge tray of pancakes, drenched in maple syrup, in order to serve me breakfast in bed. The pancakes were incredible, and while I was eating, Lee asked quizzed me on all my food favorites.
Over the next few weeks, we developed a ritual. I would come over on Friday night, and quickly change into a loose fitting robe. Lee would then serve me an incredible feast until I was ready to burst, and we would retire to the bedroom. For the rest of the weekend, I would eat 5 huge meals a day, punctuated by sex and naps to sleep it off.
After a month, I had developed a hint of a belly, but had only gained 5 pounds. Lee said that this was very typical for very skinny men; only after months of his cooking would my metabolism slow enough to allow me to "fill out." However, every Monday morning we would monitor my weight, which he would note on a chart in the bathroom.
By the end of the second month, I had gained another 10 pounds, and in the third month, another 15 pounds. I now had the beginnings of a pot belly, which seemed to give Lee considerable encouragement. "We've finally got something to work with!" he gleefully exclaimed, poking me in the tummy. "Now all we've got to do is keep this belly nice and full!"
And that he did. Lee increased my food intake 30% in the coming weeks, while urging me to cut down on exercise to allow for some serious weight gain. Those gains were not long in coming. During the fourth month I gained almost 30 pounds, and now was on the verge of becoming portly.
Lee was nearly ecstatic about my hefty weight gain, and loved to massage and kneed my growing belly. He joked that I was a "growing boy," and needed to get my "minimum daily requirements," which of course involved consuming thousands of calories of his delicious meals.
Of course all this weight gain was playing havoc with my wardrobe. My waist, which had initially been 30 inches, was now up to 41 inches. One weekend, after I had changed into my robe, Lee showed me some new clothes he had bought me. The pants were a size 57 waist! I could not believe how big they were. "They're huge!" I said. "Do you really want me to get that fat?"
"They're not so big," Lee said. "And anyway, at the rate you're gaining, these should be tight by Christmas."
He was right. The months went by in a blur of continuous gorging, with Lee stuffing more and more food into me every weekend, and the scale marching upwards at a rapid pace. Just before Thanksgiving, my weight reached 275 pounds, and Lee vowed to have me "over the top" by New Years day.
Ironically, while my weight was ballooning, Lee's was plummeting. With all the attention he was paying to my feeding, he had lost interest in eating, and over 8 months his weight fell from 230 pounds to just over 155 pounds. At 5" 10 inches tall, he now barely hinted at his former chubbiness; his hips had lost most of their extra flesh, and his once soft ass was now firm and shapely. His tummy, which had once bulged provocatively, was now nearly flat.
By New Years Eve, those size 57 pants were quite tight on me, and after almost 24 hours of continuous stuffing, they split apart with a loud rip just before midnight. At that point, Lee oiled down my bulging belly, gave me a wonderful massage, and asked if I would marry him.
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