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Mike lay in bed the morning after his adventure in Gino's back yard with a faint layer of perspiration on his meaty body, and his fleshy, aching arms behind his head. Even though it was only October, his mother had the furnace cranking out heat like it was the middle of January.
He only had one sheet covering him, and it was pulled up just to his love handles. He looked down at himself and grinned. He was over-eating on purpose, gorging himself for weeks now. He had been intentionally, precariously trying to make himself fat, and it was just beginning to show on him. He was completely nude, and his lower belly was outlined clearly under the thin fabric. The rock hard abs he'd sported only a few months ago were almost completely gone now.
He had lost his jock strap somewhere in Gino Gorseth's yard last night.
Reaching a hand down under the sheet, he fondled his plump belly as he recalled the events of the previous evening. He still couldn't believe what had happened between him and his best buddy, Tony.
Poke me in the gut! he thought. To think that all this time Tony had been just as interested in his undeniably meaty middle as he was in Tony's. Well, as soon as he got back, they'd be making up for some lost time.
And then there was Kevin and his buddy, Gino. Shit, they were a couple of delicious little gainers. Fuck, little was hardly the word for them! His cousin's stomach was practically as sexy as his own, and he still couldn't get over the impressive spread of mouth-watering meat that Gino was sporting.
They'd both been chugging weight-gain shakes and packing away pasta and other fattening foods for weeks now, and the results were really starting to show up at their waistlines. They were sexy, beefy dudes and between his thoughts of them and his thoughts of Tony, Mike found himself stroking a major hard-on.
He pulled the sheet away, exposing his mouth-watering belly as he pulled himself up against the bed's backboard. Spreading his knees apart, he lavished full attention to his once flat gut. He stroked it languidly as he thought of what he and Tony would do when Tony got back. He closed his ravenous eyes and imagined Tony's sumptuous torso with beads of sweat clinging to his tanned skin. The two of them would be just standing there, face to face, totally naked, staring into each other's ravenous eyes. Tony had the darkest, sexiest eyes Mike could imagine, with masculine eyebrows and delicate, long, almost feminine, eyelashes. Their softly bloated jock-bellies would be filled with beer, and peeping out from under their sexy cut-off football jerseys.
Mike held the image in his head as his hand slid up and down the length of his own gut. God, he loved jacking off to this! Even with Tony, Gino and Kevin to fool around with now, he couldn't even imagine not sneaking upstairs to be by himself occasionally, to play with his middle until he shot a load.
Every muscle in his body began to tighten and he involuntarily found his beefy torso rising off the bed as he neared his climax. He moaned as he felt the sperm churning in his balls, as he continued to pinch and pat on his belly. And then, with one final deep, throaty grunt, the release came as load after milky load shot onto the tight plumpness of his chest and belly.
As the last faint bursts dribbled from the flared head of his cock, Mike reached for the towel beside his bed and used it to wipe the sticky mixture from his sumptuous torso.
When he was done, he jumped out of bed, wrapped the soiled towel around his love handles and headed for the shower. When he made it to the bathroom safely, he pulled it up and tossed it down the laundry chute. It never dawned on him that his mother knew exactly what was going on every time she pulled one of those sticky towels out of the hamper in the basement. Between him and his houseguest cousin, she'd seen plenty of them.
After a quick shower, Mike went back to his room and pulled on a fresh jock-strap, running shorts and a T-shirt. Over that, he pulled on a pair of red sweats, and he finished up his day's wardrobe with sweatsocks and running shoes.
"So I'm gettin' a slight beer gut, huh?" he murmured to himself in his mirror, as he pulled his ribbed tee tight around his sumptuous torso and gave his belly a few probing jabs. Only the slightest hint of chubbiness was noticeable through the fabric when he stood up tall and really sucked it in.
His appraising eyes caught the swell of baby fat under his chin, and he could pinch those off-season love handles that had snuck around his sides. It was noticeable enough for Gino and Kev to tease him, but he had a ways to go.
"Well, we'll see about that!"
Finally, he went downstairs and into the kitchen, where his parents would see him post-feast for the first time.
Richard and Marge were sitting at the table reading the newspaper, dad sipping cupee and silently nursing a hangover.
"Hi Mom. Hi Dad. Has Kevin gotten home yet?"
"No," said Marge, "he called and said he was going to spend the day over at Gino's."
Mike laughed to himself as he thought about what those two horny gainers would be up to all day.
After downing a quick quart of whole milk and raw eggs, he headed for the door. "I'm going out to run a few miles. I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"That's nice, honey," his mother said without looking up as he slipped out the door.
Mike made his way to the old airport road a few miles south of town. Of course, that's what Mike loved about this piece of road. As he ran down the center line, he felt like he was the only person in the world. This blue highway was all his and he could do whatever he wanted here. His Saturday morning runs were special, and almost nothing could keep him from them. It was his chance to really cut loose; to feel the potential of his slightly overweight body as the miles pounded beneath his feet. It all felt so physical, so powerful, so mad-on wonderful.
As he neared completion of his first mile, Mike was suddenly jolted back into reality and came to a complete stop. Sitting at the end of his race track was a parked van. Its back doors were open and someone was sitting there watching him as he closed in on the finishing line.
At first, Mike was furious. Who would have the nerve to invade his running track? Soon enough, though, he caught his breath and calmed down a little.
This was private property. Besides, there was something awfully familiar about that van, and even more awfully cute about its owner.
Jason Carmichael got up to give Mike a lonely ovation for crossing the invisible finish line. What would the golden rich beefy dude be doing out here on a Saturday morning?
"Hey, buddy, how's it going?" Jason called to Mike as he made his final approach.
"I'm doing fine, man. What are you doing out here?"
"I just came out to think. I do that once in a while, you know-think?" he grinned. "But man, you gotta be just about freezing to death."
It suddenly dawned on Mike that he was pretty cold. With no more exertion, the sweat on his body had dried and now he found himself half naked in the cool October air.
"Climb in and I'll shut the doors."
Mike did so, and Jason locked out the cold after them. Typical of his rich boy status, Jason's van was luxuriously furnished with plush carpeting, big comfortable pillows and a refrigerator. Mike leaned back against a stack of cushions and scanned his surroundings. Jason sat down opposite him and pulled an envelope from behind the driver's seat.
"Here, beefy dude, this'll warm you up," he said as he pulled out a joint and lit it. Then he took a deep toke and then passed it over to Mike, who accepted it gratefully and took a long, slow hit. As one would expect from Jason, the dope was first rate.
As he passed it back, Jason reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two cans of Budweiser. He took the joint and held it between his teeth as he opened one of the beers and handed it to Mike.
"Thanks. Nice custom job."
"You think so, man?" Jason said as he took a swallow and handed the joint back to Mike.
"Yeah," Mike took another drag. "I'm just trying to imagine all the wild things you could do with a set of wheels like this."
"You name 'em, buddy, and I've probably done them."
"Really," said Mike, grinning, his still-thumping heart racing the THC throughout his system. The wild stuff Jason was referring to couldn't possibly come close to what he was thinking.
"Yeah, man, I mean really kinky stuff!"
Within a few short moments, Mike realized he was getting really stoned. The beer and the grass had loosened him up, and now he was sitting there, in just his T-shirt and shorts, across from the best looking senior on the gym squad as he talked about sex. He started to get a hard-on.
"What kind of kinky stuff, man?" Mike said half-suspiciously so as to not sound too eager.
Jason looked squarely into Mike's sexy blue ravenous eyes and slowly licked his lips. "Puttin' on a little spread there, huh, buddy?" he ran a pair of fingers seductively around his friend's waist and smiled at its softness.
"Gettin' a belly there, aren't ya, Mikey? Listen, bud ... have you ever just wanted to take one of your own team mates ... and fatten to the point where he couldn't move?"
Mike went totally hard. This guy wants me. He fuckin' wants me! "N-no man," he lied. "Have you?"
"Yeah, a few times," Jason said, hungrily noticing the jock puppy boy could hardly squeeze into his shorts any more, with a mischievous look in his ravenous eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. "Judging from the hard-on in your shorts, I'd say you're sure thinking about it now!"
Mike looked down at how obviously his belly was bulging over his shorts, and the hard-on below it, and then looked back up at Jason. By this point, he'd determined that Jason had a pretty serious plan in mind. He could see the plump, piece of cockmeat snaking down the leg of Jason's sweatpants, and it looked exquisite!
Without another word, Jason leaned over to the van's mini-refrigerator and opened it. Every conceivable kind of junk food snack cake was in there!
Devil's food, sno-balls, fruit pies, a sheer wall of calories! After opening the first one, but just before feeding it to him, Jason leaned in to deliver a soft passionate kiss to Mike's full lips. Stoned and woozy with desire, Mike felt his T-shirt being pulled out of his shorts and pushed up to his pecs. Jason was rubbing the bare skin of his abs while they kissed.
"You know what, Mike?" Jason's eye were shining, and he kept rubbing Mike's torso. A gleaming strand of saliva still connected their lips. "I think you're still too skinny. I think you should get fatter. What do you think?"
"I don't know, dude," whispered Mike. "I think about it a lot. But I'm kind'a nervous about it in real life."
"Well then I think you need a little push," Jason stuffed a gooey snack cake into Mike's mouth. "I want you to eat it, Mike. It's not gonna hurt you."
Mike swallowed it in a daze. Jason fed him more.
"Good. That's good, Mikey," said Jason, rubbing his fingertips around the ridge of Mike's exposed navel. "I want you to eat. Eat everything in this little fridge. Will you do that for me, dude?"
"Umf-hmph," said Mike.
"Do you know what'll happen to you when you do that, Mikey?" Jason's fingers slipped over to Mike's side, just over the waistband of his shorts, where a perfectly rounding bulge of flesh swelled over the tightening elastic. When Jason touched that flesh, Mike jumped a little, but kept eating. "If you eat everything I'm going to feed you, this is going to soften on you. It's gonna get soft, maybe even a little bit flabby. Jockflab." Jason pinched the flesh, and then jammed another pie into Mike's mouth. "C'mon, Mikey. No hesitating now, dude! And don't worry about the mess. I think you look kind'a sexy with all that cream and chocolate and apple pie goo on your face."
"Nogghmmmpph!" protested Mike.
"Shhhh," smiled Jason. "Just eat. You're almost done. Man, you're turnin' into a real pig! What's the coach gonna say when he sees you on Monday, dude?
Here...let me pull those shorts down under that spare tire your getting. Give you a little more breathing room."
This went on for another half hour, Jason opening the crackling wrappers, Mike just gasping for breath and eating what ever was jammed into his mouth.
All the while, Jason whispered to him, warning him not to exercise all his hard work away, encouraging him to close his eyes, chew less, take bigger bites...
Suddenly, Mike felt something hard, like plastic, pushed into his mouth, forced between his teeth. "Hold still, Mikey. I've got something special for you!"
Mike's eyes popped open and he was shocked to see that Jason had put a large funnel into his mouth! Even now, Jason was making for the mouth of the funnel with a large jug of some chocolatey looking liquid.
"It's my own brew, Mike! I took the best ingredients from all those weight-gain shakes and mixed 'em into this drink. Now I want you to take it all. Swallow it, man. Let's see what it does to you!"
"Spit that funnel out, and I'll throw you outta my van, jock boy! I'm warning you! If the cold doesn't kill you, your blue balls will! Now drink!"
Mike let the cool, smooth creaminess flow down his throat. It didn't taste bad! So rich...for a few minutes, the only sounds in the van were the glugging of the two-gallon jug, and Mike's beer-chug trained swallows.
"This stuff is pure calories, and pure nourishment, buddy," grinned Jason. He smacked Mike's bloating gut lightly as he continued to pour, marveling at how it started to jiggle. "We all need nourishment, man, but do you know what happens when a jock gets too nourished? Over-nourished? Super-nourished?" Jason was almost trembling with excitement. "The jock starts to get a belly.
He fattens. Too much nourishment and you get fat, Mikey. And that's what's happening to you right now! Man, there's nothing I like better than fattening up a hot jock like you."
Jason tossed the empty jug across the van, and Mike gasped and let out a huge, endless burp. Moaning, he slid his hands up either side of his gorged belly. "Oh man, Jason!" he groaned.
"What did you do to me?"
Jason moved his hand down to Mike's throbbing dick and squeezed it once. It shot a huge load of cum, forcing Mike into the greatest heights of ecstasy he'd experienced yet. "What did I do to you?" he sloshed Mike's belly as if it were an overfilled water balloon. "Well, I just force fed you into your next jeans size, fatso!"
As they stopped and picked up Mike's clothes on the drive into town, all Mike could think to himself was that Jason Carmichael had thought enough to kiss him when they were done.
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