John sat in his doctor's hot, crowded waiting room, pretending to read a magazine as he waited to be called back for his appointment. All he could think about was how much he hated going to the doctor and how glad he would be when it was all over. I can't believe I have to go through a whole exam just to get some antibiotics for this damn cold, he thought angrily. He shifted around in his hard, uncomfortable chair; the armrests were digging well into his large, fat upper thighs and he wondered vaguely if everyone was staring him. He continued to stare blankly at the pages of the well-worn magazine and not read a word.

After a time he put the magazine down and folded his arms across his large, round belly. He looked at the woman sitting across the small room from him; she too was pretending to read a magazine and shifting around in her hard little chair. He smiled to himself and continued to watch her; she was quite pretty and about his age, and he wondered if they had anything in common. She appeared to have very wide, full hips, which were bulging well beyond the confines of the armrests on her chair, and her blouse was pulling tight around her large breasts and plump pot belly; she tugged at its hem, trying to keep it from riding up. Her long brown curls spilled down over her shoulders as she fidgeted and a slight flush began to creep across her neck; John longed to brush those curls back and run his tongue along her jaw line, down her soft-looking throat and to points south...

"John?" barked his doctor's skinny, bespectacled nurse, snapping him out of his day dream. "The doctor's ready for you." He eased himself out of his tight chair and winked at the plump brunette when he noticed she was looking at him. She grinned and blushed, brushing a strand of unruly hair back behind her ear. He passed through the white door and into the short hallway that ended in an examination room. The nurse told him to go on back and undress as the doctor would be with him shortly. John stripped to his briefs and hopped up onto the examination table. I know he'll bitch at me about my weight, he thought, frowning down at his feet as he swung them back and forth. His face started to feel a little warm as he thought about what his doctor would say when he weighed him this time. The last time he had been in, he weighed just a little over 240 pounds; he now weighed just over 290. His doctor was a pleasant man and had always been easygoing, even about John being overweight. "But I've never been this fat in my life," John muttered under his breath. "I wonder what he'll say?"

Just then the door opened and his doctor walked in. "Hello, John," he said jovially, a little louder than necessary. "How have you been? Not well?" John started to explain about his persistent flu as his doctor prodded and poked at him, making the occasional notation on a clipboard. As John continued to talk, punctuated by the occasional sniffle, he noticed that his doctor had set the clipboard aside and was watching him as he spoke, hand in chin, head cocked to one side. He then moved closer to him, resting a hand on one of John's broad shoulders, causing him to stop speaking in mid-sentence.

"You've, ah...been putting on some weight lately, John? I wonder why. Depressed? Troubles at home?" his doctor inquired, smiling with what John cautiously interpreted as concern.

"Um, no, nothing like that," he stammered, rather embarrassed that he didn't have an excuse. "Just sort of relaxing too much, I guess," he mumbled, glancing down at his doctor's hand, which was now gently rubbing back and forth across his shoulder.

"Good, good," the doctor replied, letting his eyes travel up and down John's large, fat body, the smile growing wider on his lips. "I want you to take this pill and then lie down on the table here." He left John's side and began rummaging through a drawer in a nearby metal cupboard. He finally found the pill bottle he had been searching for, removed a pill from it, and handed it to John. "You can just chew it up; it tastes just like candy," his doctor said, smiling even wider than before.

John did as he was told and lay down on his stomach on the table. He vaguely remembered having a dream where two beautiful women asked him to chew up a pill that tasted like candy, but he couldn't remember much that happened after that.

"I think a little massage would do you good," his doctor said, rubbing John's fleshy back in circles. "I'm glad to see you've put a little meat on your bones," he added, gently pinching one of the rolls of fat on his lower back.

"A little?" John laughed aloud. He was feeling a little spacey and ravenously hungry.

"Would you like to join me while I eat lunch?" his doctor asked as if on cue. John nodded vigorously, neither asking nor caring why his doctor was massaging his back or was asking him to eat during a medical exam.

"Great," he said, slapping John lightly on the back and pausing to watch the flesh jiggle and ripple ever so slightly. He reached his hand out longingly towards John's large, soft-looking buttocks but paused over them without touching. "Let's eat," he said, turning quickly away from John and heading for a small door in the corner of the room. John propped himself up on his elbows and hazily watched his doctor rummage around in the small closet. He put some items on a rolling cart and wheeled it over beside the examination table. John sat up and squinted at the cart to see what was on it; he was having a hard time focusing his eyes, for some reason.

"Eat something, John," came the doctor's voice from behind him. He could feel agile, muscular fingers massaging him, the tips of which sometimes prodded quite deeply into the layers of fat on his smooth, white back.

"Unh," John replied, grabbing something that looked like a large stuffed pastry from the cart and biting into it. It was filled with some kind of deliciously creamy sweetened crease with strawberry preserves swirled into it here and there. "Mpphh, wrl good," John commented through his mouthful.

"Yes, that's one of my favorites," said his doctor, now rubbing John's back with increased vigor, concentrating on his plump lower back, digging his fingers into the thick fat.

As John continued to eat in a hungry daze, he was aware that his doctor had slid his arms around his fat midsection and was rubbing his big potbelly, moving his hands gently up and down the soft, yielding flesh, tracing little circles on it with the tips of his fingers. He asked John to hand him back a pastry, so he carefully selected one from the tray and passed it over his shoulder. He had always suspected that his doctor found him attractive, and in some corner of his mind he felt the same way, but could scarcely admit it to himself. But for some reason he now felt even more sexually charged towards him than ever; if he didn't know better he would have thought there was something in the food. He wanted what was happening, he wanted his trim, athletic doctor to focus on the weight which had been the cause of so much embarrassment to him, he loved the vague pangs of shame he felt as his doctor pressed his hands into his rolls and bulges of fat.

His doctor took a bite from the pastry and then held it in front of John's face from behind. On impulse his took a bite from it; his doctor let out a shuddering moan as he chewed it slowly. He continued to eat from his hand; with the other he was reaching around and toying lightly with John's left breast, sliding his thumb back and forth over his small pink nipple. When John had eaten the last bite of the pastry he cautiously darted his tongue out and touched it to his doctor's hand. He wanted to lick it, he wanted to suck it clean so badly, but he didn't dare. I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight, John kept repeating desperately again and again in his mind.

"Are you BI, John?" his doctor whispered from behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder and said nothing, his mind racing. Then he shut his eyes and nodded un-surely, then with a little more conviction.

"I am today," he said softly.

His doctor put one knee on the table and moved close to John, embracing his fat torso, kissing him lightly on the neck. John moaned and shuddered at how strangely wonderful it felt to have a man's lips against him, to feel the slight brush of a five-o'clock shadow against his neck, to smell men's cologne in this situation instead of a sweet perfume. His doctor's hands continued to explore his soft, fat body as he ran his firm tongue up and down John's neck; it felt almost as if he was prodding the swell of double chin with it. He slid his one hand down to John's erect cock and began massaging it, tugging lightly at John's right nipple with the other.

Then he slipped away from John for a minute, unbuckled his belt and dropped his baggy slacks to the floor. He removed his shirt and tie as well and sat down on the table.

"Will you do me a favor, John?" he asked, resting a hand on the dimpled knee beside him. "Will you eat a little bit while I get, um...excited?"

Without a word John started to consume the food on the cart. His doctor straddled the table so he was facing him and could watch comfortably. He started to masturbate in earnest when John had eaten four more of the pastries and was obviously not going to be slowing down for a while.

"Moan a little," his doctor whispered as he continued to pull enthusiastically at his now erect dick. John stuffed his mouth full of big, soft chocolate chip cookies and moaned through his mouthful; his doctor moaned as if in reply. After almost half an hour had passed both had slowed down but neither were ready to stop.

"Could you, ah, pat your belly, You know, sort of rub it?" his doctor asked, obviously embarrassed by making such a seemingly strange request. And John did just that, with some hesitation at first but then with increasing enthusiasm. All the while his doctor was mumbling to himself in a steady stream; John was a little taken aback by what he heard but didn't ask.

"My God, you've gotten fat," he whispered under his breath. "You must have put on fifty pounds since the last time I saw you. You're probably pushing three hundred already. If you get much fatter you'll barely be able to waddle around," he panted, stroking his long, erect shaft.

Normally such insults would have caused John much distress, but for some reason they felt delicious now, they had a sweet, nasty sting.

"Yes, I am getting really fat," he said, a hot flush and a grin creeping across his face at the same time. "I'm turning into a fat pig. Look how much weight I've gained," he said, grasping his big belly firmly at the sides and shaking it up and down. "I'm getting fatter and lazier and lazier and fatter," he said, smacking his belly and watching the fat ripple and jiggle.

"Oh God, stop!" his doctor hissed breathlessly, his shaking hand still firmly wrapped around his hard cock. "Kneel on the table before I loose it." John hiked his legs up onto the table and kneeled on all fours away from his doctor, his head hanging down between his shoulders. His doctor slid one hand down the back of John's briefs, running the back of his hand across the fat flesh inside. He then pulled them down completely, exposing John's wonderfully fat ass; he grabbed two handfuls of it, squeezing it hard, watching his fingers sink into the soft cellulite. He stood up on his knees and leaned over John, wrapping his arms around him, cupping his bulging chest in his hands, pulling on his nipples, delightedly listening to John's moans of pleasure and anticipation. He then slid his hands onto the sides of John's belly, which seemed even more amply fat in this new position. He pressed his hand against one side, then the other, making it swing back and forth a little, suspended just inches from the top of the table. Unable to resist longer, he grabbed John's hips firmly and pushed the flesh downward, exposing him even further; he then slowly slid his cock inside. The deeper he went, the louder John groaned; he felt a delightful combination of pleasure and pain and guilt. With each of his doctor's thrusts he could feel his fat jiggling and rippling, he knew he couldn't hide it, and he felt wonderfully perverse for not even wanting to. His doctor moaned hoarsely and began to increase speed until it was as if he had formed a rhythm, not so much with John but with his fat. He pushed in and it yielded slightly, then pushed him right back, and it's jiggling and swaying seemed to give it all added momentum. A few more hard pumps and he couldn't hold back any longer; he shot deep inside John's core with a high, stifled scream.

He slid out and got down off the table to put his clothes back on. John too redressed, his mind racing to catch up with what his body had just done. He grabbed his coat and started to open the door, throwing a glance back at his doctor.

"You will call to make another appointment," he said, grinning and winking knowingly at John. He smiled weakly and headed out the door.

He stepped into the short, narrow hallway and put a hand over his eyes. When he reopened them the plump brunette from the waiting room was standing in front of him. "Um, I can't fit past you," she said with a chuckle. John grinned and butted himself up close to the wall; the girl raised her arms and slid past, her belly just brushing his. She stepped into the room John had just left and shut the door behind her."Ah, Emily, it's good to see you again," he overheard his doctor saying. "It looks like you've put on a little weight!"