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Christmas Dinner
The sun had not quite peaked through the windows of Tim and Greg’s apartment when Greg woke up, ravenous as he tip-toed into the kitchen looking for the last box of Entenmanns Crumb Cake. Tim had made him dinner as a Christmas Eve surprise, and he had been so full afterwards that he passed out after playing around with Tim for a few hours. He was so used to having a midnight snack before bed that his stomach protested all night, waking him up in the wee hours of the morning to feed its cravings.
It should be a good day for pigging out, he thought lustfully as he cut the cake into fours and stuffed the first block into his face. A good day at Tim’s anyway. Eating with Greg’s family would be another issue. Greg had always been a little heavy – like both his mom and dad – though when he turned 12 his parents turned into super health freaks, sending him to fat camp and throwing everything out of the refrigerator except for carrots, celery, and roasted turkey breast. Tim met Greg while they were both freshmen at State, when Greg was a shy stocky 18 year-old with an eating disorder. Gone were the days of closet binging and starvation, and after a year and a half of Tim’s encouragement, Greg’s five-foot-eight frame had grown from stocky, to chubby, to downright fat. Now that they were going into the second semester of their junior year he had shot up well above his original 200 pounds, to the point where even his 44 jeans were getting a little snug. Not that Tim minded, preferring Greg’s clothes to be tight-fitting so that he could see all the contours of his chubby body. Greg was finishing the last of his morning treat on that cold Christmas morning when Tim woke and, realizing Greg wasn’t in bed, went looking for him in the kitchen. He pressed himself into Greg’s sky-blue boxers and started nuzzling his neck.
"Morning Greg,” Tim said, nuzzling Greg from behind as the dawn-light cast its early-morning glow across the kitchen. Despite all the action taking place in the room, the kitchen was clean except for the crumbs around the Entenmanns box.
"Morning,” Greg replied, turning to face Tim as he finished the last of the Entenmanns cake.
"You’re up early huh?”
"Yea, this thing woke me up,” he said, rubbing his gut and smiling.
"You must’ve been pretty hungry,” Tim said, looking at the empty Entenmanns box.
"Just a morning snack.”
"Snack? That cake is gone.”
"Hey, you helped build this belly,” Greg said, grinning as he brought Tim’s hard body into his fleshy one. Greg knew how to get Tim going, and he wasn’t surprised when he felt a particularly hard piece of Tim growing into his belly. "Now I’ve gotta take care of it.” Greg said, a greedy look spreading across his chubby face. Tim smiled.
"You’re insatiable,” he said.
"In more ways than one.” And Greg dropped to his knees, giving Tim his morning pleasure.

Both Tim and Greg’s parents lived in the capital city, about three hours drive from campus. Despite the proximity, however, neither Tim nor Greg had met the other’s parents before that Christmas day. Tim’s father was a lieutenant over the city police department’s homicide division, and Greg noticed they lived in a nice sized house, in one of the safer neighborhoods within a few miles of the downtown precinct. Tim had called ahead to tell his parents when they would be arriving, and they were waving from the doorway as Tim parallel parked in front of the house. It hadn’t snowed yet, and once they parked, they walked over the small plot of grass towards the entrance.
"Tim!” Mr. Dessalines called, taking hold of Tim with one of those fatherly handshake-and-hugs. Tim’s mother also gave him a hug and a kiss before she let him go inside. Once Tim was inside, his father directed his gaze down towards where Greg was standing.
"And you must be Greg. Nice to finally meet the guy who’s captured our Tim!” he said while giving Greg a hand-breaking handshake.
"Oh Andre, you’re gonna embarrass him,” Tim’s mom said, smiling as she shook his hand.
"It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Dessalines. Mrs. Dessalines.”
"Oh, just call me Brigit dear,” she said, smiling as she led them into the house. 
Like Tim, his dad was a nice looking man, with an athletic build and with a devilish grin Other than these traits, however, they were almost totally different. Mr. Dessalines was at least 6’3”, about four inches taller than Tim, with dark hair and eyes that contrasted with Tim’s more tawny hair and hazel eyes. And while Tim was muscular with hardly any body fat on his frame, he seemed almost lithe next to his father, who had the wide shoulders, large frame, and natural muscularity of a man who looked like he would have been a good defensive lineman. He was in his late forties, and Greg could tell he still worked out to keep his body in shape, though he had that slight belly that a lot of guys get with age. His pectorals were big enough so that you could hardly tell it was there unless he sat down.
Mrs. Dessalines was a little shorter than Greg at about five-foot-five, blonde haired, very round and rosy-cheeked, with one of the sweetest demeanors he’d ever seen. "You boys just sit in here for the next half hour or so and catch up,” she said, smiling distractedly as she directed Mr. Dessalines to his chair, Tim and Greg to the couch, and rushed back into the kitchen to finish the cooking. "We’ll be sitting down to eat at 1:00!”
Mr. Dessalines settled into his chair, literally glowing as he looked over at Tim. "So, how’s that Marketing major treatin’ you son?” he asked.
"It’s going okay,” Tim said, not bothering to remind his dad that he was a Business Economics major. "A lot of case studies, graphs . . .”
"Good, good. Just keep studying and things will turn out alright,” he said, reflecting on this statement for a moment, and then nodding firmly as if to reinforce the sentiment. "How about you Greg? Tim tells me you’re studying Biology?”
"That’s right, Mr. Dessalines,” he said. "This past term wasn’t too bad, but now I’ve got to start getting ready for organic chemistry next semester. I’m heading back to campus after New Year’s Day to get an early start.”
"Organic chemistry? Man, I couldn’t imagine. You two must really be working hard up there. Still on the honor roll?” They both nodded. "That’s my boy!” he said, reaching over and tousling Tim’s hair. "Don’t know where you and your brother Chris get those smarts from.”
"From my side of the family!” Mrs. Dessalines yelled from the kitchen.
"Must be . . .”
"You’ve got to be pretty clever to be over the homicide department though,” Greg added.
"I guess that’s true. You’ve got to know what you’re doing . . . Still, the objective’s pretty clear isn’t it. I’m just trying to keep the thugs and murderers off the streets.”
"Hey dad, what’s Chris up to?” Tim asked, changing the subject from law enforcement with the ease that comes with years of practice.
"In the attic, playing one of those ‘Role Playing’ games,” he said, frowning as if it were some gross disease. "You don’t have to worry about Chris missing a meal though! He’ll be down once the food’s ready.” Chris was in his last year at Tech. Greg had never met him, but he knew from passing conversations with Tim that he was pretty different from his other two brothers, preferring video games and constant snacking to playing sports and working out. Tim said he looked a few pounds bigger almost every time he went home, though the Dessalines seemed much more concerned with what they viewed as his anti-social behavior. "You’d think he’d be sick of computers after working with them all day, but he comes right home and starts playing those games like his life depended on it.”
Tim also had an older brother, Andres Jr., who was the splitting image of his father: dark haired and brown eyed, with a tall, muscular football player’s build that carried maybe thirty pounds or so less than his dad’s did. He’d moved South to help manage a crew on an oil rig in the Gulf, and he was spending Christmas with his girlfriend there.
Finding that the boys didn’t have too much else to talk about, Mr. Dessalines drove the conversation back to law enforcement, mentioning some cases he had wrapped up, and at 1:00 sharp Mrs. Dessalines called, "Dinner’s ready!” As they got up to head into the kitchen, Chris came downstairs into the living room.
"Hey guys!”
"Nice to see you could take a break from videogame world,” his dad teased.
"I wouldn’t miss this Christmas dinner for the World,” Chris teased right back. And from the looks of him, you believed him. At 6’1”, he was tall like his dad, yet his long-ish brown hair, and pleasantly chubby face made him look pretty different. He definitely wasn’t muscular like his other brothers, with his thick legs and arms, and a belly that swooped way out in front of him. Not too many 22 year-olds could manage a belly that big, yet he seemed pretty nimble none-the-less. Good genes, these Dessalines have, Greg thought.
They headed into the kitchen, where it became immediately clear that Mrs. Dessalines had really outdid herself, making just about every kind of Christmas food imaginable. For a moment, Greg was sure another 20 people were going to start filing into the house for dinner. The kitchen was filled with the smells of honey-roasted ham, glazed turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese, along with several other holiday staples that were covering every square inch of table and counter-top space. The desserts were laid out on a long dresser in the dinning room, which was situated between the living room and the kitchen. Mrs. Dessalines had already designated a seat for everybody, and once everybody had their plates, they went into the kitchen to fill them up.
The smells wafting through the kitchen were intoxicating, stirring the food lust in Greg and enticing him to try everything he could get his hands on. Still, thinking about his own family and how they would disapprove of him stuffing himself as a guest, he only got a few of the dishes he wanted on his first round. After seeing how much Chris and his father were downing at the table, however, he decided to join in. Mr. Dessalines slowed down after the second plate, and for a while only Chris and Greg were still eating the main course. Chris was taller and much heavier than Greg, and in this case that translated into appetite as well; he ended up putting away the most food for the evening.
"That was good mom,” he said, wiping his mouth after downing a 3rd plate of rotisserie chicken and mac and cheese, then patting his stretched-out belly with bloated satisfaction.
"I’m happy you liked it,” she said, setting a fairly large-sized piece of cake in front of everybody. "And maybe next year you’ll be bringing someone over to share in all this, like Tim,” Mrs. Dessalines said, smiling approvingly towards her youngest son.
"Yep, one of these days I’ll find a girl who can take care of this belly just as well as I can.” Chris said, taking a large bite out of his cake, then swallowing it with whole milk. "‘Till then, I’m ridin’ solo.” 
"Maybe if you got out of the house more, you’d have a better social life,” Mr. Dessalines said pointedly.
"I have a good social life!” Chris protested, getting up to cut grab another slice of cake from the dresser. "It just happens to revolve around ‘World of Warcraft.’” All three Dessalines looked at him like that was the craziest thing they had ever heard of. Chris sat back down with his cake (this slice significantly larger than the first), shrugged, and started eating; Mrs. Dessalines decided to change the focus of conversation to Greg.
"I hope you’ve enjoyed sharing dinner with us,” she said.
"Definitely,” he said, rubbing his own taut belly. "I don’t think I’ve ever had a holiday dinner this good.”
"Glad to hear you’re the kind of guy who can enjoy a good meal,” Mr. Dessalines said, eyeing Greg meaningfully. "You know, we Dessalines men like our . . . partners with a little meat on their bones.” Greg smiled sheepishly, not quite sure what to say, and Tim turned bright red underneath his tawny locks. Oblivious to any of this, however, Mr. Dessalines tousled Tim’s hair again, beaming warmly as he gave him a hefty pat on the shoulder.

A bottle of champagne and a few beers later, and Mr. Dessalines was in full-blown story-telling mode.
"I’ll bet you’re wondering how a big, Average Joe looking guy like me wound up with a name like ‘Dessalines’, huh Greg?”
"Well, you guys are definitely the only family I know with that name.”
"I’ll tell you how it happened,” he said, and after some groaning from Chris and Tim that Mr. Dessalines didn’t seem to hear, he launched into the story.
"The first Dessalines came to New Orleans from Guad-ee-loupe – by way of France – way back in the 1800s. Right after he got there, New Orleans became American, and BAM! He was a legal citizen, just like that!” He said, looking around the table to see if they got it. The other Dessalines all had neutral looks on their faces, Mrs. Dessalines in particular paying an inordinate amount of attention to her slice of apple pie, and Greg took this as a sign that they had heard this story before. Mr. Dessalines, apparently thinking they were confused, chose to elaborate. "No tests or waiting periods or nothin’. He went from total foreigner to legal citizen, overnight! Of course, he didn’t know any English, but it wasn’t like it is with today’s foreigners, since most people were still speakin’ French in Louisiana. And anyway, he made sure his kids spoke English,” he said, reaffirming his approval of this first Dessalines, English-language skills be damned.
"Around the turn of the century, my Great-Grandfather moved down to Mobile, and my Grandfather moved here for work and raised my father and me all here in the Midwest. And there you have it! An All-American guy like me with a name like ‘Dessalines.’”
"It’s an American story, Mr. Dessalines.”
"Please, just call me Andres.”

After a few more desserts, everyone was completely full, and they started filing back into the living room. The Dessalines’ house was something of a post-dinner meeting place for the family, and several of Tim’s aunts, uncles and cousins stopped by. Around 5:30, as people began to head out, Greg told Tim he had to go over to his parents for their Christmas dinner, and they left.
The Parkers lived in a modest sized house in a suburban planned community, about 20 miles northwest of downtown. Tim and Greg got to the house a little bit after 6:00. Having heard so many horror stories from Greg about his parents, Tim originally planned on dropping Greg off without getting out of the car. Then he figured that, since Greg had met his parents, he might as well meet Greg’s. He pulled into the driveway, walked along the concrete path bordering the front yard, and rang the doorbell. A slightly plump, middle-aged woman opened the door. She was dark-haired like Greg, but with icy-blue eyes that seemed so different from Greg’s warm brown ones. "Hi, I’m Tim,” Tim said, smiling at Greg’s Mom.
"Mrs. Parker,” she said, her expression curt and somewhat distant.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker.” She stretched her pinched expression painfully into a smile, or was it a grimace? Either way, after a couple moments where nobody said anything else, Tim figured he wasn’t about to get an invite inside and, saying he had to get going, he ran back to his car and drove home.
Greg had to admit to himself that he was a little jealous of Tim, who got to spend the holidays with a warm family that loved him. Not that his family didn’t care, but all his mom seemed to talk about was how disappointed she was in him, and how he looked fatter every time she saw him. His father was no better, saying that Greg was getting into a lot of "bad habits” at school. Greg couldn’t help but think that his dad was being pretty hypocritical. Mr. Parker had lost a little weight over the years, but he was still bigger than Greg, and once or twice a week, Mr. Parker would go to McDonalds after work and binge on Big Macs and fries.
The food was pretty horrible. Greg was hungry again and ready to eat big that evening, but all his mom had made was boiled chicken and broccoli. No carbs, and no seasoning on anything. And after one piece of chicken, his mom told him he had "had enough.” Frustrated, Greg went to his room to watch some TV. Of course, he’d also eaten a couple chocolate bars and some Twinkies that he had stowed away in his book bag, but that was hardly enough to satisfy him, and he went to bed hungry and alone. 

TAP TAP! CLAP! What’s that? Greg wondered. He got out of the bed and walked over to the window, pulling up the blinds to figure out what was going on. Tim was staring up at him from the yard below. He had a big bag of something at his feet. Greg pulled up the window. "What’s up?”
"Let me in! ‘I come bearing gifts!’” He said, his mischievous smile spreading across his face.
"Okay wiseguy, I’ll meet you around back,” Greg said, and he went downstairs to open the backdoor. His parents slept on the ground floor, so they had to tiptoe going from the back door upstairs, but once they were in his room they relaxed. "So, what’d you bring me?’ Greg asked.
"I knew you probably weren’t gonna get much to eat tonight, so I brought over a few things from the house,” he said, setting a large thermal bag – the kind a family might use on a camping trip – on the bed.
Greg looked into the bag, which was filled to the brim with containers of food. "A few things?” he said, smiling widely.
"Well, maybe a bunch of stuff. You think you can eat it all?”
"Only one way to find out.” And he dug in.
Tim had warmed all the food before he wrapped it up, so it was still hot by the time he arrived at Greg’s house and started opening the containers. The aroma of sausages, ham, breadsticks, and dressing filled the room, rousing a food lust so strong in Greg that he could hardly control himself as he grabbed fitfully at everything in front of him. His appetite was vast and bottomless, and he tore through the sausages and scalloped potatoes like it was his last supper. Tim rubbed his belly to create more room; somewhat in vain, since Greg showed no signs of stopping. 
Soon, the last of the macaroni and cheese, and other staple goods were gone, and Greg moved effortlessly on to the bread pudding, shoving it into his mouth with his hands and savoring its sweet, rich flavor before stuffing himself with more. And then there was banana pudding and chocolate cake, apple pie and ice cream. He felt the rich desserts filling him up, pushing his belly to the limits, yet this didn’t faze him. The sweets were so rich, his appetite so voracious, that he ate with the gluttonous savagery of a man that had been starved for months of all food and pleasure. Finally, he had finished everything but Mrs. Dessalines’ specialty: her caramel apple crumb cake. The rich sweetness of the apples and caramel contrasted wonderfully with the cake, each bite erupting with orgasmic pleasure in his mouth and making him want more and more until it was all gone and Tim was on top of him before he could mouth a word of protest.
"Ahh!” He sighed as his back hit the bed, his belly taut and swaying heavily from all the food. He couldn’t remember ever eating so much at one time, yet he wanted nothing more than to feel Tim’s body against his own. Tim was all over him, feeling Greg up beneath his shirt until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to rip it off, giving his belly the full treatment.
"How does that feel?” Tim asked.
"Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he gasped. Tim’s hands were big and sturdy, his firm caress sending waves of pleasure through Greg’s body. Tim started pinching his nipples, and then he came up and gave him a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into Greg’s mouth and tasting the sweet remnants of the desserts. "Take off your shirt,” Greg commanded. Tim threw the shirt off, revealing his muscular body in all its splendor. He was smooth, like Greg, but the similarities ended there. His chest and his six-pack glistened with sweat, and his muscular arms seemed to ripple with excitement. Tim dove back down into Greg and started sucking and nibbling on his neck and ears. Greg’s arms were wrapped tight around Tim, pressing him deep into his taut belly and feeling so good that his eyes were rolling back into his head.
They tore off the rest of their clothes, and Tim started giving Greg deep and powerful kisses, moving his hands all over his neck and belly, and grinding his piece into Greg’s. Greg hadn’t gotten to taste it since earlier that morning, and was suddenly filled with the urge to take it into his mouth. "Give it to me,” he gasped, his cock hunger forcing him to break from the kiss. "Give me your cock. Fuck my mouth with it.” Tim turned around and straddled Greg so he could start feeding him his cock, Greg’s hungry mouth just in reach of the 8+ inch shaft before he pulled it away. He did it again, Greg’s tongue stretched out into the air, just wanting to touch the tip of the warm shaft, when Tim came down and drove it deep down his throat. Greg’s moans were deep and satisfying, and only increased as Tim dove into a 69 position and started rubbing Greg’s hole. Tim spit on it, watching it pucker up and greedily take the natural lube into its depths, before diving headfirst into Greg’s hole. He massaged Greg’s plump cheeks, opening and closing them over his hole and sending him completely over the edge. Tim’s cock was deep in Greg’s throat, yet Tim could hear his moaning grow louder as he started kneading his ass more aggressively, driving his tongue deeper into his hole. Greg loved to suck Tim off, but when Tim played with his hole he totally lost control. His body quivered with nervous pleasure, and he prayed that he’d get to feel Tim deeper inside of him. 
"Fuck me,” he said, breathy and a little desperate as he recovered from having Tim’s pole in his mouth. "I want to feel you inside of me.” Turning back around, Tim positioned himself so he could get ready to enter Greg, and started kneading Greg’s hole with the head of his cock. Greg was mumbling incoherently, his hips bucking into Tim’s rod as his desire grew stronger. Unable to hold back any longer, Tim lubed his shaft and without warning pierced Greg’s hole with the first few inches of his dick.
"Ah!” he breathed, wincing slightly as the head of Tim’s dick thrust itself inside of him. Tim’s dick was long and thick, but the pain soon subsided and Greg was filled with pleasure as Tim pumped him with the tip of his shaft, kissing him deep and squeezing his nipples. He felt hot all over, intense pleasure reaching into his core and erupting from him through loud and guttural moaning. It felt like love, the pleasure more intense than anything he could imagine, and he started bucking his fat ass cheeks and grabbing Tim’s muscle thighs to force more cock inside of him. Sensing the shift in Greg, Tim grabbed Greg’s fat hams and buried his shaft deep inside Greg’s hole. He held it for a moment, oblivious to Greg’s sharp intake of breath as he let himself feel Greg’s tight hole wrapped around his cock. Then he started pounding him, fucking Greg deeper and harder than before.
"You like it.” Tim said, demanding approval. "You like having my dick in you, don’t you.”
"Fuck me,” Greg breathed out, barely lucid from the intense pleasure running through him, rocking out in waves from his prostate through his entire body. "I want more . . . I want more!” he pleaded. 
Bracing himself on Greg’s fat belly, Tim started pounding Greg even harder, his thighs and glutes shiny with sweat and a look on his face like he couldn’t be happier. Greg grabbed Tim’s bubble-butt, firm and smooth to the touch, and pulled him in to get as much dick inside of him as possible. "Kiss me,” he said, bringing Tim down onto his belly and greeting Tim’s full lips with his own, rocking back and forth with Tim’s shaft buried deep inside of him. Tim broke this kiss abruptly and started pounding Greg with even more force, both of them getting closer to orgasm. Greg’s hands were all over his body, rubbing his belly, pinching his nipples and rubbing his cock to intensify the experience. His belly was swaying wildly with each thrust, and with Tim’s dick giving his hole a working over like it had never seen before, it wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold out any longer.
"I’m gonna cum!” he screamed, rubbing himself with a fervor that sent jets of cum streaming out of his cock and onto his belly, chest and face. Seeing the cum all over his chub set off the firebomb in Tim’s loins, and before Greg was done working the last of it out of his cock, Tim was pulling out and cumming all over Greg’s chubby chest and face.
Completely spent, Tim collapsed onto Greg, both breathing as one as they recovered from one of the best lays they had ever had together. Neither one could tell how long they laid like that, though seeing the sky begin to pale with pre-dawn light stirred Tim into action.
He jumped up all of the sudden, the spring back in his step, and threw Greg’s clothes onto his big belly. "Get all your clothes together. I told mom you were coming back to our place, and she’ll expect to see you there for breakfast tomorrow.”
"I’m staying at your place?”
"At least until the end of break. She set up the spare room for you, just to keep up appearances, although I may be sneaking in there every once in a while —”
"These pants! I can’t get them to button . . .” Greg said, straining to get the pants to button, though his big belly kept getting in the way of the pants button and the slit meant to keep the pants fastened.
Tim could have fucked him again right then and there, but he kept it together. "Hmm. We’ll go get some new jeans after breakfast. Maybe no one will notice?” He said, throwing Greg one of the tightest fitting sweaters he could still wear.
"What’s she making?”
"The good stuff: eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles . . . she’s even doing her cinnamon rolls this time.”
"Sounds good,” Greg said, still full but already anticipating the next meal.
"Yeah, let’s get outta here before she wakes up.” With that said, Tim helped take Greg’s bags downstairs, where miraculously, the Parker’s were still dozing, and they headed back into the city.

Source: http://www.bellybuilders.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=15211
Category: first pounds | Added by: existimator (2012-08-22) | Author: darkstorm1_5
Views: 3369 | Rating: 3.7/3
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