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A Fantasy

People may remember Jim Pall, the star player of the Texas Mesquites. For a while it was impossible not to see him, victorious on the baseball diamond, on TV and radio advertising loan agencies and best of all -- advertising some of the skimpiest, sexiest briefs to grace mainstream media.

Years ago, when Jim appeared in the pages of NEWSTIME in the RiderWear's tiny "Executive Thongs," many people were shocked, but I fell in love with him as only a sexually budding thirteen year old could.

He was so beautifully clean cut with his styled glossy black hair, the firm mouth with its knee-melting smile and the large dark eyes that seemed to call even from the pages of the magazine (on TV and radio, the deep, huskyiness with that Texican twang that came out of that face made it even more desirable). And how many youngster (and adults) wanted to personally explore that well developed (if a bit skinny) body with those large nipples and huggable waist -- not to mention the full package that looked as if it wanted to burst out of the brief and stretch up out of the page?

Oh yes, I had been hooked on him. At times I imagined him driving by and taking me off away from my boring everyday teenage life.

As time passed, he retired from baseball and modeling. He still advertised financial services (with that nag of a wife of his) and did some sportscasting, but soon even those signs of his existence faded.

Ah well, dreams of an adolescent and the reality of a full grown adult are two separate things.

Or are they?


It was quiet and almost empty in Merry's Bar when I arrived.

This wasn't bad for me as I like being able to sit quietly and chat with friends or make a gentle pass at somebody without having to talk over a loud crowd or a blaring juke box. I got a beer and sat at a corner table just relaxing for a bit.

"WHISKEY! -- MAKE IT A DOUBLE!"

I froze. I knew that husky Texican drawl. Standing at the bar was my dream man and hero Jim Pall!

And he was clearly not in the prime condition of his sports/modeling days. The glossy raven hair had gotten somewhat grayed, a few wrinkles etched around the eyes, forehead and mouth of his once plastic smooth skin and there was a roundness over his belt that would have never pleased RiderWear. Not to mention that he was just a few drinks short of being outright drunk.

Some great hero. Yet one look at him and I felt like a horny teenager, ready to cream my pants.

"Its on me," I said as I handed a few bills to the bartender, and took over the whiskey bottle.

"Thanks!"

"Watch out," the bartender whispered to me, "he's just about ready to give his life story."

"Fine with me"

"Masochist!"

"Whaddya guys talking about?" Jim asked.

"My friend here says that you have a heck of a story to tell. Why don't we go to a table and talk?"

I walked off, carrying the bottle. Hell! However I got it, I wanted to have some time with my dream hero.

"Thanks, buddy. I could use a pal now," Jim said as he slumped into his chair.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I topped off his glass. I knew that I was tempting fate by asking him that question, but he didn't bat an eye...

"My $@% wife screwed me today. First time in years!!!" Jim chuckled at the joke for a moment, then his face clouded over and he continued...

The upshot of the story was that Jim and his wife had always been more business partners than an actual couple. She had been his manager and agent and he was the willing commodity, being touted and sold across the nation. They had an "open relationship" and ignored each other's private affairs. Unfortunately, Jim's age and his diminishing fame had made Mrs. Pall impatient to go for more profitable arrangements...

"I could handle the divorce thing until I found out how the #$%^ had sewn up my cash..."

A few weeks ago, Jim found himself going from a wealthy married man (at least in name) to an obscure, almost stone broke bachelor. Since then he had been making the rounds of the bars and treating himself to massive doses of booze and self pity...

I looked over this sodden man, discreetly admiring how the buttons of his shirt were straining and allowing a bit of T-shirt covered pot belly to poke through. His clothes were new which meant that he must have just started to bulge -- probably the result of all the drinking.

We spent hours at that table as I let him ramble on and on... Jim was more than happy to have some interested person listen to him talk about his trouble and past life that I had no problem spacing the drinks to keep him from fully going under. And I admit, slurred as it got, I loved that voice!

Merry's finally began to close up. It was time to go -- home alone, I thought, but then...

"Your a good listener," Jim grinned bleary eyed and leaned closer to me, "could you come to my place so we could talk some more?"

I didn't need much urging.

"She couldn't get her hands on it. Even if she could, the #$% would never want a dinky place like this," Jim said as he stood fumbling for his keys.

I expected a tiny apartment from his description of the place, but I was very pleasantly surprised by what I saw. This huge duplex was no "dinky" place! Then I got a better look at it and shuddered. The place was a PIG STY. Furniture, food wrappers and clothes scattered all over the place. Clearly Jim had trashed the place in a rage over the situation he had landed in and simply continued to stay here without clearing up. Jim saw my expression and looked a little uncomfortable.

"I gotta get a clean-up crew in..." he muttered.

I walked over to him and smiled.

"Its OK."

Jim shyly smiled, taking me back to my teenage days of flipping through NEWSTIME magazine. Soon, he cleared a place on the sofa and we sat down. I supposed that I was going to just let him talk, offer my sympathy and wait and see what happened -- at the very least I would go home -- but...

"All I can say is, at least I am free, to do what I want," Jim said.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? I... I want..."

Jim put his hand on my knee and looked at me.

We both knew that we had been leading up to this moment, but I still felt myself going hot and Jim was turning a nice shade of red too. I put my hand on top of his where it rested on me and pressed it.

Jim leaned close to me...

Even as a youngster, I had known that I would never get to kiss such a macho sportsman like Jim Pall. But was I ever glad that I was so very wrong!

His lips were just as I had always fantasized they would be. And I loved the gentle feeling of the breath from his nostrils across my upper lip. Jim's arms, still very powerful from years of sports, pulled me tightly against him.

"Would you -- I mean that I would like you to..." Jim faltered in nervously.

"I've always wanted to with you..."

"Thanks. Its been a while."

I was puzzled over that last remark, but let it slide as he began to undress me. Soon I was stark naked and I let him guide my hands over his belt so that I could undo his trousers. The tension behind his buckle was strong and I smiled in anticipation of feeling that belly. Pulling down his zipper I smiled as I freed the colorful bulge of Jim's RiderWear crotch. It was clear that he never had to pad in that area in his modeling days. If anything they may have had to do a bit of airbrushing to keep the ads acceptable for the magazines. As the pant sank down, I admired the sturdy legs underneath. Then button, by button I took off his shirt and looked at the brief-wearing figure of so many of my teenage desires.

He was older, but still so damned attractive!

Jim must have felt uncomfortable with my staring.

"You're looking at my gut aren't you?"

To be honest, I was. Noticeable as it had been when Jim had been wearing his suit, the clothes had hidden the real size of a large pot belly. It forced his briefs down so that they had to ride low on his hips and rounded above them into a firm, round paunch. On either side, Jim's two love handles continued the tummy bulge as they filled his waist and blended into an ass that had grown since his days of wearing those tight baseball uniforms.

"I'm not dieting for anyone anymore!"

"Anymore?"

"Yeah! Everyone around me had to tell me what to eat and drink -- how to work out. Well look what it got me! And if you think my guts big -- well, SCREW YOU!!! I'll become a whale if I want!!!"

Jim was angry. Now I understood why he had said it had been a while! All the other guys must have been shocked to see their favorite fantasy man with a good-sized paunch. Jim wasn't in the mood for getting any criticism about his once famous figure and some of the men Jim had been with clearly had said a little too much for his liking.

Well, I was not going to criticize that sweet tummy -- far from it!

Eagerly, I buried my face into that fleshy, warm gut.

"You're beautiful!" I murmured as I began to kiss his navel. I then slipped my hands into his briefs and felt those round large ass cheeks. I pulled the underwear off and felt the soft thud of his large cock as it sprang up against my chin and neck.

"But I'm getting fat!"

Horny as Jim was, he clearly wasn't going to let go of the idea that his gut was a turn-off. It was time to reassure him.

"Ever since I saw you in your tight briefs and uniforms I've wanted you Jim..."

Jim stood still..

"But I WANTED you fat!"

He breathed in quickly as I said that and suddenly he pulled me up and looked into my eyes.

"You want me FAT!!!"

"Uh-huh, you're even sexier like this!" I stroked his bulged middle.

We just stayed silent and just looked at each other. Obviously, my declaration was a first for Jim Pall.

"How fat?"

"If you gained a ton, you'd need an army to pull ME off of YOU."

"What if I just did nothing but sit in front of the TV and be a pig?"

That question surprised me. My main thought had been to convince Jim that he could be a stud no matter how fat he got. But now my mind was racing.

Could my hero have shared in some of my old fantasies? Only one way to find out...

I gave my answer.

"I'd be right next to you and ready to do whatever you wanted."

"If I got too fat for my clothes?"

"I'd adore every button that popped off of 'em!"

Jim began breathing a little harder. Either he was getting a charge out of this or thought I was a nutcase.

"And if my gut made me too big to fit through the doors?"

"I'd keep you happy in whatever room you wanted until we got the doors widened."

Gently, I took his stiff cock in my hand. I could feel the pre- come beginning to moisten the large head. Clearly this was a turn on.

I spoke again...

"Do you want me to stay with you and turn you into my fat jock?"

Jim suddenly gave me a hard kiss.

I enjoyed feeling his body against mine. It felt better than anything I had ever experienced before. I slipped my head lower and began to gently bite his nipples and rub the sensitive lower parts of his belly. Jim moaned softly and we slowly settled on the sofa, oblivious to the clutter around us. I kept kissing and nibbling at his pecs as I reached around and slid my hands up and down, stroking his broad back, love handles and that wonderful ass. The rigid, hot presence of his cock forced between my legs began to drive me wild as I pushed my own hard-on against his beefy thighs...

All through the night in that messy living room, an out of shape, horny jock gave me one of the most beautiful gifts a man can give another man. He let me live out one of my first and oldest dreams -- one that I had long ago taken for granted could never come true.


Late next morning as he snored gently, I got up and got my clothes together. I took one fond look back at his handsome prone form. And quietly walked out. I was afraid that he would feel embarrassed or uncomfortable -- after all, Jim Pall making fat talk and tricking with a stranger? No, that isn't the truth. I was afraid that I was falling in love with my fantasy man. What if it was just a one night stand? Better not to build up hopes that can't come true. As I was about to go out the front door, I did one stupid thing. I left my number by the telephone. Jim would never call, I knew that. Still, that night I waited by my phone. There is nothing more disappointing than hoping against hope for something you know can never come.


A couple of days later, I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!!!"

"Jim?!?!"

My heart was pounding wildly.

"I have been looking all over this @#$%^ city for you for the past two days."

"My number was by your phone."

"I use a goddamn cellular. I only found that paper you left a minute ago. Now get the hell over here NOW!"

I wanted to laugh, cry and cream, but I was just able to say, "YES SIR!" and head out.

"HOLD THE DOOR!"

I held the elevator door open and a delivery boy came on with a large cardboard box. I didn't think much about it until we got off at the same floor and the take-out boy rang Jim's buzzer. The door opened.

"Say, you're..."

"Sure am, now how much do I owe ya?"

I watched Jim standing in a bathrobe paying for the food. He saw me and with a firm "get in here!" brought me into the apartment.

It was much cleaner than the last time I had been there. The living room was spotless and I saw the sofa parked comfortably in front of the TV set with several large bowls of snack food beside it.

"Now get naked, sexy," Jim ordered with a grin. Freed from my clothes, I looked at Jim.

"What about you?" I asked.

The grin became a broad smile. Off went the bathrobe and stiff went my cock. Jim was still fully dressed. But in one of his old Texas Mesquite uniforms.

It must have been a uniform made for him as a lank rookie, before he even developed the famed RiderWear build. His arms hung out of sleeves that were meant for a man with narrower shoulders. Several upper buttons on the jersey were open to make room for his well shaped upper body. Even then it was so tight around the chest that his nipple were in clear shape as they stretched out the shirt. Below, the leggings filled out smoothly over the thick calves continuing up to the tightly stretched thighs. The waistband and fly were far beyond closing over the generous belly and rump Jim was acquiring and were so snug that he had left his rainbow-thong covered cock hanging out which made a colorful contrast to the white and brown striped color of his uniform and the flesh tint of his plump sagging paunch. I reached out and touched the smooth expanse of gut that pressed forward and kept Jim from buttoning the lower part of his jersey. Those few buttons that had been fastened showed glimpses of belly in the gaps in between. Even in his heyday, Jim would have been too big for this outfit, but now he was wonderfully on the way to busting out of it at every seam.

The only thing that still fit was the Mesquite cap and below it I saw the happy face of a man who clearly got a kick out of the way I stiffened up at the sight of him overflowing his clothes.

"You ever saw me on the field?" Jim asked as he struck some baseball action poses.

"The only reason I watched a game was to drool over you," I answered, giving a gasp as I heard the faint sound of snapping thread.

Jim went into a pitcher's wind up, turning his body and raising one leg up till his knee approached his chest..

With a loud snap, the rear panel of his overburdened seat broke apart.

And I nearly went berserk.

I pushed him back onto the couch and spread his legs apart and upwards. I was going to enjoy that seam splitting butt, NOW!

"Yes! YES!! FUCK ME!!!" Jim yelled happily, pulling down his ripping fly and skimpy thong to free himself for pleasure.

I did -- happily.

When we were done, Jim turned on the TV and we relaxed on the sofa and had supper from the box that he had ordered. Several kinds of fried and barbecued chicken and ribs, hot-dogs, sandwiches... "T hey thought I was throwing a party when I sent out for this" Jim said between mouthfuls, "but if you're gonna fatten me up, its going to take a lot to stuff me, right?"

"You bet," I said as I put another onion ring in his mouth...

Jim looked great, licking his lips as he kept chewed and chomped away, patting his stuffed belly and opening up more buttons on his tight jersey.

Crouching by his feet, I began to pull his trousers off. It was like peeling a banana, but soon I managed to free my well-fed baseball hero from those confining, torn pants. His cock, even with all the action it had just had was already getting stiff again. This jock may have been growing out of shape, but he had staying power! Soon both our mouths were busy.

Jim's with a helping of spare-ribs, mine with... well, lets just say that we were really enjoying ourselves.

We couldn't finish the box like some men might do in the fantasy stories -- not even half of it. But as I lay next to Jim, rubbing his

belly and watching him happily belch, I knew that, regardless of fantasy or reality, we belonged together...

"YOU FAT SLOB!!!"

I thumped Jim's belly.

"Look at you! You're getting so big that you'll have to WADDLE out on field!"

"But Coach!" Jim moaned, "I can't stop getting fatter!"

The badly fastened thongs of Jim's jockstrap flew apart letting his pumped cock fall out of his pants.

"You're so damn chubby that you can't keep anything on anymore! What'll the team say when they see you try to squeeze into the dugout?"

"What Coach?" another button opened on the snug jersey.

"They'll want to fuck you so badly that they won't play!!!"

"YES COACH!"

It had been a couple of months since Jim and I had gotten together. I had left my job and apartment and was living in a dream world with Jim as the former baseball star/model/announcer/salesman happily got fatter and fatter. We loved playing out fantasies where Jim faced his coach, team, RiderWear cameraman or other person who would find his irresistible (to us anyway) paunch and heft an inconvenience. Of course, all situations ended up resolved in great sex and hearty eating. I have to admit that I got a bit chunky too from being around all that food, but Jim got big kick out of it and enjoyed comparing his swelling paunch to my own small bit of thickening. He really loved how I admired his bloating physique. And it WAS something to admire...

Jim was now a tubby, beer-bellied man who couldn't get into his uniforms without my eager help. Double-chinned and thick-necked, his shoulders were now beefier as were his big nippled pectorals that were beginning to droop slightly over the top of his great big gut. When I watched him walk away I admired the expanded double globes of his beautiful ass, framed as they were by the love handles above and the chunky thighs below. In his uniform he looked sexier than ever, and he could give me a painful hard-on just by modeling his RiderWears the way he used to in the ads. Though, when I played the irate photographer, I would savagely point out that his gut was going to hide all sight of his thongs. He would smile and drawlingly ask if he should change to athletic knee-length briefs instead and laugh as I pretended to lose my temper. Jim could easily see how I really felt by looking at the rising mound in my pants.

I don't know how long we could have gone on like this in our current state of finances. We tried not to think about it, but even if he had the duplex, my savings and what little he had could have only kept us for so long.

"One out, bases loaded and now Jim Pall comes up to bat."

"WHOA has that man porked out!"

"Where could he have found a uniform to cover that gut?"

"I dunno Jim, what do you think? You know your getting kinda paunchy yourself."

"Think so?" Jim said patting paunch that peeked out of the large shirt.

"You're gonna blimp out of that suit soon" I said, reaching to hug the great sidebags that rolled under his jacket.

We were playing sportscasters and Jim loved to imagine he was doing a play-by-play of the economy-sized Jim Pall on the field as I MADE a play-by-play on the jumbo-sized Jim Pall in the announcer's box. A little schizoid, but a lot of fun.

Suddenly the phone rang.

"Damn!" Jim said as he picked it up.

"Yeah, this is Jim Pall, who is this? Oh, calling on HER behalf?

The greedy &^%*^!!! Yeah, I see -- well I'll see YOU and that tramp in court!"

Jim slammed down the phone.

"What is it Jim?"

"SHE wants the duplex too, it just came to her notice."

I knew it was too good to last! Still perhaps...

"Well, we could find another place, but I'll have to see what job I can get to keep us both. Maybe my old place will take me back," I said.

Jim looked at me tenderly.

"I had hoped you would say something like that. I may sound a little sappy, but it reminds me how much you love me."

He took me in his arms.

"No, you won't have to worry. I've been doing a lot of thinking and I think we can ALL get what we deserve..."

I'm not great at discussing the fine points of the law, but let me just say that when Jim's lawyer called upon the former athletic great to testify, the jury was more than a little stunned at how much Jim Pall filled the witness stand. Under questioning the reluctant ex-model told of how his divorced wife had swindled him out of everything he had worked for and even sent him into such shock that he had gotten fat.

And now, unemployed and with just a few meager savings left, Jim Pall was being forced to give up his only home because of the grasping avarice of the heartless woman. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, except for those of his furious ex-wife and her disconcerted legal team.

By the time the judge and jury were through, Jim was on the way to becoming, once again, a very rich man. Proceedings began against the former Mrs. Pall and the inequitable original settlements of Jim's divorce were invalidated. By that time, accountants were swarming over all of the lady's holdings and charges of tax fraud and financial misappropriations began rearing their ugly heads.

Jim's limousine pulled away from the law building where he had just signed the last of the documents reestablishing his ownership of his property. He looked handsomer than ever in the tailor cut suit that was fitted for every bulge of his sexy rounded build.

"Well, I guess you'll have every stud for miles after you now," I said lightly, though I have to admit I was scared that I might lose him, now that Jim had more than just me to depend on.

Suddenly Jim grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me for a long time.

"Don't ever say anything like that!" He said to me fiercely as soon as he let go. Settling back, Jim began to talk...

"I was thinking, now that we have real money, maybe I should see about getting some bigger Mesquite uniforms made up for me. Something that would take the work of a good lover and a hired full-time chef to outgrow."

"Maybe with some extra-stretchy spandex panels?" I said patting the wide expanse of his shirtfront.

"Yeah, that would be great. And a coach's uniform for you too, sexy..."

We snuggled against each other, planning for our new future as the limo drove on...



Source: http://web.archive.org/web/20051217172741/http://www.gainerweb.com/archives/stories/stories/briefs.shtml
Category: fantasy | Added by: existimator (2012-07-13) | Author: Cube
Views: 3440 | Rating: 1.0/1
Total comments: 0
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